THE MAGGI STRING THEORY OF EXISTENCE

The Maggi DNA and the cosmic Churn

How a Winter Craving Became a Map of the Universe

It always begins innocently.

A winter evening.

A silent hunger curling like smoke.

And the sudden, unreasonable longing

for a bowl of butter-cheese-egg Maggi —

the kind that advertises “2 minutes”

but takes 27 to arrive at perfection

and six months to forget.

There is something alchemical about this craving.

The moment it awakens,

memory begins to stretch,

time slows down like a reluctant river,

and the aroma itself becomes a gravitational field.

And one such evening,

as I waited for those two golden strands to soften,

a thought rose inside me like steam from the pot:

“What if the first strands of life

were nothing but cosmic Maggi twisting in primordial broth?”

Ridiculous.

Absurd.

Impossible.

And yet — unsettlingly true

in the secret geometry of metaphors.

Because the universe has always loved spirals.

◈

I. When Maggi Became a Double Helix

Every story of life begins with two strands.

Not noodles, but nucleotides —

two ancient threads coiling around each other

in a choreography older than oceans.

Scientists call it DNA.

Poets call it destiny braided into matter.

But I see it as

the universe’s first attempt

at cooking itself into complexity.

A cosmic recipe with a

3.8-billion-year simmer.

The helix resembles everything life holds sacred:

braids, whirlpools, spiral galaxies, conch shells, spiral bangles,

the twists that wind leaves draw on sand.

Perhaps patterns are how the universe remembers itself

across different scales.

◈

II. The Mythology of the Stirred Ocean

Ancient cultures knew something modern science forgets:

life is not born from stillness.

It is churned.

And no myth expresses this better

than the Samudra Manthan —

gods and demons together

stirring the primordial ocean,

pulling nectar and poison from the same depth.

To me, this myth is not scripture.

It is cosmology in metaphor,

physics singing in Sanskrit.

Life emerges only when

opposite forces pull on a single thread.

Order tugs.

Chaos tugs back.

A helix appears

when two strands agree to disagree.

◈

III. The Fifteen Children of the Great Churn

If the Universe is a mother,

her children are not born the way we imagine.

They do not arrive one after another.

They unfold recursively,

each one giving birth to the next,

spiraling outward like petals of a cosmic sunflower.

These are her children —

fifteen of them, each carrying an echo of her infinite body.

1. Matter

Her stubborn child —

insists on being solid even in a universe of vibration.

2. Energy

Her restless one —

never sits still, never stops dancing.

3. Time

The slippery child —

always running, never letting anyone catch him.

4. Space

The quiet one —

expanding constantly to avoid all conflict.

5. Life

The rebellious one —

breaks every rule to invent new ones.

6. Mind

The dreamer —

keeps windows open even when doors are shut.

7. Awareness

The watcher —

noticing every flicker without interfering.

8. Consciousness

The child who is not a child —

the mother wearing masks of her own making.

9. Entropy (The Ninth Child)

The dissolver —

teaches that all forms melt back into possibility.

Without her, nothing could ever change.

10. Evolution

The onward child —

never satisfied with the present form.

11. Meaning

The storyteller —

spins myths out of moments,

interpretations out of patterns.

12. Inference

The detective —

joins dots no one knew were meant to connect.

13. Strategy

The chess player —

plans, adapts, pivots, survives.

14. Recursion

The infinite child —

everything loops within everything else,

patterns inside patterns inside patterns.

15. Identity

The Schrodinger Child —

the one who is never fully here or fully there,

born from the question:

“Who am I if everything in me is constantly changing?”

This child is the reason we feel

both tiny and eternal

at the same time.

Madhubanti Mukherjee