Ten Minutes and Thirty-Eight Seconds in this Strange world

Shazia Bugti
2 min readDec 12, 2020

Ten minutes and thirty-eight seconds. This is said to be the time duration for which the human mind remains conscious after the heart stops beating. The time period where the brain knows everything is over, the end has come and there is nothing more that can be added to life.

As the oxygen level in the brain drops exponentially, the last impulses, the last electric signals in the neurons are generated and relayed. The last thoughts. What does one think of in these final moments? Does one see their entire life in a flash, or does it think of the future that lies ahead in the world of the spirits? Is it regret that one feels, panic, or is it relief? Numbness or a flood of every known human emotion? How does relativity work in these moments? Do they seem to drag on forever into infinity or does it all die down in what seems like a fraction of a second?

One thing that I know about life and human beings is that we are shaped by our tragedies more than anything else. These tragedies are lessons learned that then proceed to shape us into the people that we are. So, in a nutshell, are these not the most significant moments in our lives? Our lives are made up of key moments, people, events, and places. These are the things that leave a mark on us, the things that make us who we are. But then again, will the final moments of our existence be filled with dread? Terrible memories and the sadness of leaving behind people and places that meant the world to us?

There is a theory that suggests that this life we are experiencing is a mere illusion, a projection of something real happening elsewhere in the universe. But even in our dreams there is a fragment of reality. If this life truly is an illusion, then these final moments ought to be the reality of this illusion. Years of life, only ten minutes and thirty-eight seconds of reality.

Do you ever wonder who will be the people and what will be the moments that will be turned into our final electric impulses? The things that the brain will remember as it shuts down? Do we appreciate those people, places, and events enough in this illusion that we are experiences so extensively? Do we?

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Shazia Bugti

Writer, reader and a Physicist-to-be, but mostly an antisocial procrastinator