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We live in a world full of questions that spark curiosity with every turn. In that delightful space between genius and whimsy, between “aha!” and “how curious,” there thrives a noble society: “The Conundrum Club of Indubitable Minds.” They don’t seek to simply solve problems…. they celebrate them. With a cup of tea in one hand, a slice of toast in the other, and a spark of wonder in their eyes, they embrace the strange and the mysterious with joy and flair.

At Brahma Muhurat, in the stillness of 3 AM, when the world slumbers in its deepest silence, the yogis reach for enlightenment, and those awake find the weight of their solitude. In this sacred hour, the silence itself becomes a dialogue, its riddles whispered by the very fabric of existence. The hum of the night seems to echo with ancient truths, and even the most fleeting thoughts, once trivial, now rise as questions seeking meaning, as if applying for a place in the vastness of consciousness.

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I joined a club of curious sorts,
In velvet coats and stripy shorts.
They gathered sharp at half past three,
(That’s Brahma Muhurat, obviously.)

They pause and think, with furrowed brows,
Contemplating life’s deeper vows,
Why small things fade when time is dear,
Or loss looms close, and hearts feel fear.

A conundrum brewed one Wednesday night
“Do goldfish blink, or just lose sight?”
We gasped, we paused, we formed a stance,
Then someone did a blinking dance.

Indubitably, we clapped for flair,
While someone vacuumed up despair.
And though the goldfish never spoke,
We blamed it on an ancient joke.

At Brahma Muhurat, a question arose:
“Why do the smallest things carry such weight?”
A yogi, in stillness, sipping from an earthen pot of tea, replied softly:
“It is the dance of gravity, love, and surrender.”

In stillness, we recognized the sign,
Shared a moment, deep and divine.
In sacred script, the truth we wrote:
“Love makes all things fall into place.”

At Brahma Muhurat, thought takes flight!
What is the self, and what is light?
Who wakes within when all is still?
Whose breath becomes the cosmic will?

At the break of light, a gem was raised:
“If I think twice, am I half right?”
We wept. We hugged. We held our tea.
It struck us all so existentially.

Indubitably, truth is vast,
With every mystery, we were steadfast.
No answers yet, but still we sought,
And in that search, wisdom was caught.

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In a universe filled with endless riddles, perhaps the wisest thing is not to seek immediate answers, but to celebrate the journey itself. At the Conundrum Club, clarity may never arrive, and that’s perfectly fine. Because, in the end, it’s not the fall of the slice of toast that matters, but the joy we find in the simple, unplanned moments that make life meaningful.

Brahma Muhurat, that sacred sliver before dawn, remains a time of heightened consciousness; where the mind, unburdened by noise, is closest to truth.

Indubitably.

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