Dear Pythagoras,

Did you know that many years later your views, which held sway for generations, would outgrow themselves and turn in upon themselves with your comma? The comma bears your name, though it resulted from your search for perfection and something else which makes me shiver to utter: the discrepancies of God. Is the search for order only to end in an approximation; an error which just keeps spiralling both inwards and outwards? An error which just propagates till our minds are all detuned and your lyre is a useless farce? Now I hesitate. I see the disharmony of our souls in that tiny error. The universe is not meant to be harmonious. We can never reach in and touch ourselves. We can never reach out and touch the cosmos. We will miss by a tiny fraction, and that will keep us spiralling on, further and further away from sight into a never ending search, a chaos of white noise. We will miss God by a fraction and hurtle away into empty space, separated by your comma. But did God himself invent this comma? What for? Was is it a celestial jest? To tantalize us forever and ever? To make us keep looking, inside, outside, never finding? Do the natural disharmonies make up life? Is this never ending search meant to be life? Or was it that God was unable to fit the notes together? Or is it that God is in us and there is this disharmony which separates us? Let me see within. Pythagoras, you were one of the greatest, but you were helpless before God.