Dr. Divya welcomed Vineet with a smile. “We are going to make history today,” she announced. “With our experiments, we will investigate the functioning of consciousness, exploring what happens before and after death in our brain.” the room as you can see on the left side of yours has a blue mapping chamber. we spent 7 years building this chamber. This Blue Mapping chamber worked differently. Unlike conventional machines operating on binary code, Blue Mapping functioned like the human brain—organic, unpredictable, and impossible to fully comprehend.
Before entering the chamber, Dr. Divya required Vineet to share details about his past and psychology. They entered the laboratory together. Dr. Divya walked quickly, excitement evident in her movements, while Vineet remained nervous. They arrived in a room with white walls illuminated by blue neon lights.
With unwavering confidence, Dr. Divya instructed Vineet to discuss:
What he thought about himself was “Not so good. Sometimes I find myself feeling guilty and weak. Other times strong, confident, and brave.”
His sleep and diet patterns for the week were “Normal.”
His perspectives on death “I’m not sure about anything.”
The most significant psychological event that transformed his life, personality, and mindset was “When I first fell in love with a girl in my school. Her name was Radha. I couldn’t forget her properly. She still exists somewhere in my brain. I still see her in my dreams sometimes.”
Dr. Divya asked with curiosity, “Do these dreams make you sad or affect you in any way?”
“Yes, they make me feel sad but not much. Maybe I’ve become habitual to it.”
After a thorough medical analysis of his brain and body, Vineet would be permitted to enter the room and connect with Blue Mapping.
Dr. Divya explained to her team that the experiment’s primary purpose was to understand what occurs when two brains are connected to a single body. “My entire life, I’ve dreamed of conducting this experiment,” she said.
After 5-6 hours, Vineet entered the stark white experimental room. At its center sat a seamless capsule that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Blue Mapping hummed nearby.
“Remember,” Dr. Divya told the technicians preparing Vineet, “we’re attempting to document what happens in the moment of death—to understand what consciousness experiences as it begins to fade. Blue Mapping will connect with your mind, but we can pull you back.”
As the chamber sealed around him, Vineet took a deep breath. The air inside carried a faint ozone scent. Lights dimmed. Blue Mapping’s hum deepened.
Then it began.
Vineet felt himself falling through his memories, but they were neither chronological nor logical. Suddenly, he was in a classroom after the school bell rang. He watched friends gossiping for exactly four minutes. A teacher entered, and students shouted in unison, “Good morning, ma’am!” She corrected them—“Good afternoon, students”—and announced it was lab day.
The memory twisted. The chemistry lab expanded impossibly as he entered with four friends. Glass bottles containing chemicals labeled “dil H₂SO₄” and “NaOH” lined shelves that stretched into infinity. Among the endless tables, one girl caught his attention, mischievously cutting newspapers below the chemical bottles.
When he approached and asked what she was doing, she made eye contact and laughed—a sound that triggered chain reactions throughout his body, vibrating inside his cells long after it stopped.
The scene fractured. Vineet was home, then back at school, listening to romantic songs. The girl’s smile became an addiction, a happiness he’d never known before. When he closed his eyes at night, he saw her smiling. When he woke, he was alone.
Time compressed. A month passed in an instant. The girl had been absent for four days. When she entered the classroom, Vineet looked at her like the sun—knowing it burned but unable to look away.
Words formed in his consciousness: “one-sided love.” He rejected them, but they persisted.
His eyes always searched for her. When found, he followed, wanting to speak, but she moved too quickly—her velocity exceeding his own. Physics and emotion merged in his perception.
On a holiday, he finally asked to borrow her computer book. His nervousness made him shout the request, causing her to cover her ears. The next day, she brought the book. When he mentioned she hadn’t written her name, she took it back and wrote it in capital letters. That page—he still had it photographed, saved somewhere beyond the chamber.
The memories accelerated. Final exams. Another school. Offering her his favorite book. Rejection. The realization of unrequited love. Seeing her on a train in dreams, moving away forever. Tears on his face when he woke.
“The presence of loved ones brings happiness; their absence, suffering,” he thought, the words echoing in the chamber.
Something strange happened. The memory began to fold in on itself. Vineet entered a dream within the memory. Then a dream within that dream. Each layer took him deeper into places that couldn’t exist. Colors appeared that had no names.
He realized he was dreaming, and everything disappeared. The whiteness that replaced reality wasn’t empty—it was full of something indescribable that couldn’t be processed by a human mind or even Blue Mapping.
Vineet tried to scream but had no mouth. He tried to think but had no brain. He existed as pure awareness in a realm where physics broke down, time ran backward and forward simultaneously, and he was everywhere and nowhere. maybe because both brains are trying to coexist together
Then, abruptly, he woke up.
Vineet couldn’t shake the feeling that part of him remained in that white void—that what returned to his body was incomplete. He saw not darkness but that impossible whiteness. Sometimes, he heard laughter from a girl he once loved, echoing from somewhere beyond the boundaries of reality. He also couldn’t remember anything about his past and was not able to see anything.