Island of Lost Ideas
We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams.
Über-Morlock, Time Machine, 2002
The Island of Lost Ideas is in mid-creek. Approximately midway between the large land of IS, which was a land on which lived things that existed – it was called the ‘real world – and the larger land of IF, where lived ideas, memories, possibilities and dreams. This was not the real world, but it was real enough for the very small number of masters who lived there. Most masters lived partially in both lands, and would use the huge bridges in between to travel from one to the other. There was a bridge called sleep, and there were smaller ones called crystal-gaze and think. There is always dense mist over the creek. When you’re on one of the bridges, you can see nothing around you, or below you, where the Island is. Very occasionally, the mist clears for a split second, and if you happen to lean on the railing and look below, you’d see the island. The other peculiar thing is that you see the island only if you know its there. It is in some sense one of the few remaining secret islands.
But it is a secret only for masters. Ideas are birds, they don’t use bridges. They fly across the creek from IS to IF, and from IF to IS. The larger Ideas make the whole flight in one go, and the smaller ones rest midway on the Island. These birds are called by their masters, who stay on the land of IS, and are sometimes sent back to the land of IF, where there are nests for them, and food. On the land of IS, there is nothing for them to eat, so once their work is done and their masters are busy, they fly back. If they stay on too long on IS, they die.
Ideas keep getting born and they keep dying. Most ideas come from the land of IS to IF to breed and nest. When the new-born idea feeds on the food in IF, it grows stronger. It learns to fly. One day it is strong enough to fly to IS. These young Ideas come right to the bank of the creek and perch on the branches that hang in the water and stare at their reflections all day. And when the wind is right, and the mist is light, they take a final look back at their home and take flight. What everyone thinks is that some ideas manage to reach the other bank, on the land of IS, and some die making that journey. What masters don’t know is that some ideas, when they are losing breath, are blown by the wind to the Island of Lost Ideas, and here they rest.
It’s freezing cold on the Island. There is no time on the island, and trees are all shrivelled. The fledgling ideas roost on the branches that are sheltered from the wind, fluff up their feathers and close their eyes. Some of them sleep for long times. Some freeze over. Different things happen to different ideas, but two things are important.
Ideas don’t age when they sleep, and they don’t die when they freeze. One warm day they thaw slightly and can hear their masters call to them from across the fog. Sometimes they wake up, rustle their feathers, look at the sky, blink and launch themselves again on their interrupted flight. Some other times, when it’s cold and the wind is not right, they just curl up again and stick their necks in their wings, and go off to sleep again. Some ideas can stay on the island forever.
Last important thing, whatever happens to these ideas on the Island, they remember the wind that saved them and blew them to the island. Wherever they are, in whichever state they are in, they stay in love with the wind.
