Quantum Mechanics – Reviewed
Ashmeet
We bumped into each other.
You smiled at me, and I smiled back.
In that instant, we shared a connection.
We both paused to let the other pass,
And that’s when it happened.
“Go on“, you signalled with your hand,
So gracefully, so beautifully.
And I bowed my head and walked ahead.
The smile on my face lasted for some time after.
…
You may find the rest of the poem here.
Quantum Mechanics
© by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes
Analysis
This poem takes a scientific concept and applies it to something deeply human—small, passing moments of connection. Quantum mechanics, a field full of equations and theories, is often seen as cold and impersonal, focused on particles and forces rather than emotions. But here, the speaker treats it as something much warmer, something that can explain the fleeting but meaningful interactions between people. The poem doesn’t try to explain quantum mechanics in a technical sense. Instead, it plays with the idea that even the smallest encounters—like two strangers exchanging a smile—might be part of something larger and more fundamental.
The structure reflects the nature of the encounter. The lines are short and straightforward, moving quickly just like the moment itself. The turning point, “And that’s when it happened,” builds suspense, as if something dramatic is about to occur. But instead of a big revelation, it’s just a small gesture—one person waving another ahead. That’s part of the poem’s charm. It doesn’t overstate what happens, but it also doesn’t dismiss its quiet significance. The way the poem lingers on this moment makes it feel important, even if it only lasted a few seconds.
The humor in the poem comes through in the reaction of the physicists. The speaker applies quantum mechanics in a loose, poetic way, and the physicists immediately object—“No, no, no! That’s not it at all!” Of course, they’re right. Quantum mechanics doesn’t actually describe brief human connections. But the speaker isn’t concerned with scientific accuracy. The point isn’t about getting the theory right—it’s about recognizing a feeling. The speaker smiles at the physicists’ objection, as if to say, “I know, but that’s not the point.” In that moment, the poem invites the reader to smile too. It doesn’t demand to be taken seriously; it just asks to be understood in the spirit it was meant.
The final lines expand the idea beyond this one interaction. The speaker suggests that they have met this stranger before, in different places, in different people, over and over again. This could be a poetic way of saying that kindness repeats itself, that small, familiar moments of warmth happen all the time. Whether the speaker means this literally—as if human connections work like quantum entanglement—or just as a way of describing how these moments feel, is left open. The important thing is that they see something bigger in the experience. The poem takes a small, everyday moment and makes it feel universal.
At its heart, this poem is lighthearted but thoughtful. It makes something small feel meaningful without over-explaining why. It suggests that science, for all its logic and precision, might not be as separate from human emotion as we think. The speaker doesn’t try to prove anything, and they don’t need to. They simply notice a feeling, apply a scientific idea to it, and smile at the contradiction. Maybe the universe is held together by more than just physics. Maybe, in some way, human warmth is just as fundamental.
