Anand Vaidya's Passing
Anand Vaidya, a professor of philosophy at San Jose State University and visiting professor of philosophy at UCLA, died of cancer on October 11th, 2024. He was 48. Anand co-founded the Science Fiction and Philosophy Society along with his wife, Manjula Menon, and Ethan Mills. Obituaries can be found at Daily Nous and Sophia.
Things We Told Each Other
In Memory of Anand Vaidya
You told me you loved me first
And I was amazed.
You told me that mental states might be considered sources of knowledge
And I was skeptical.
You told me people shouldn’t be forced to live if they didn’t want to
And I was appalled.
You told me to never follow the crowd
And I wanted to save you.
You told me you wanted me to be happy
And I was scared for you.
I remember I was frightened
When my head was on your chest
And I was listening to your heartbeat
And you suddenly seemed
Unbearably fragile.
I asked if you remembered
That scene in Blade Runner
Where the replicant pokes out the eyes of his human creator
Because he learns he must die.
I told you that if I ever met my creator
I’d be angry too.
What a terrible thing to give us the capacity to love
But also make us necessarily die.
Your neck was warm and soft
And I could feel your pulse on my fingers.
You told me what you wanted was to love people
And to be loved by them.
You told me what made you happy was to engage people
To do philosophy.
I’m interested in the truth, you said
But more in understanding.
I told you my sense of fulfillment was like a unit step function
Stepped up to one when you were with me
And down to zero when you were not.
I told you that in the year 256 BCE
After bloody conquest of a neighboring territory
King Ashoka began to grieve for the lives lost in war
And declared that he
The beloved of Gods
Would henceforth strive to ease the suffering
Of all living beings.
I told you in the sixteenth century
Emperor Shah Jahan had inscribed in his palace, the words
‘If there is Paradise, it is this, it is this, it is this’
Now you are gone
And I can never tell you anything again.
But if a mental state can be source of knowledge
Then I’d tell you that the multiverse contains
Infinite versions of you and me
Because I have drawn them
Here, to this reality.
Sometimes, as I wait for dawn
I’ll sense a version of us
Looking at me
With sympathy.
On my walk, a version of you might bound ahead
Bubbling with energy
Jerking his head this way and that
As this thing or that, catches his curiosity
Just like you used to do.
When I’m feeling like I just can’t bear your loss,
I’ll sense a crowd of them,
A thousand variants of us,
Silently they support me,
With understanding.
I want to tell you that it’s true,
I feel their presence.
I want so badly to tell you.
* * *
Manjula Menon can be found at www.manjulamenon.com.
