Maths

On the other day I was speaking to Poms and asked him how his homework was going on (His homework is something I would not like to miss). He said it was ok and generally reduces the decibel level of his voice when that subject is broached. He told he was doing maths and I asked him whether he liked maths. He paused for sometime and then declared that he did not like it. I was not amused as I think he generally fares well in maths though he goes nuts when we ask him some subtraction stuff.

His answer sent me off on to a thought trail about maths. What a clean and rational subject and what an exhilarating joy in solving some of the toughest problems. No wonder most womenfolk dislike maths (according to a myriad surveys). I remember tackling geometry in school and then I was so fascinated by application of integration. In fact I was the only one who attempted all the questions in that section in my class and everyone left that section in ‘choice’. My college mates looked at me as if I was a weird (euphemism for a nut) creature not to be allowed to roam the streets of Salem. It was a special kind of joy doing all those Maths stuff. The adrenalin pumping and the excitement when the answer is near is something that words cannot describe. You feel like announcing to whoever you find that you have cracked it – of course not when you write the exams. That’s what I felt when I did the queuing theory equations. Took a long time to understand what Ramu pillai was teaching in his rustic way in the class. I still remember lying prone upstairs ( when the upstairs was being constructed) and staring at all things for hours together trying to understand the fundamental principle behind the equation which ran a mind boggling 3 pages and I think my grin and my eyes were the widest when I understood the basic principle.

The racking of your brains and thinking in all sorts of ways to find the solution is an extraordinary feeling of joy and pleasure. The mind racing in different trails simultaneously, weighing the options, pursuing it and then discarding it. All this in a trice and then repeating it all over again. Like love, in solving maths, the pangs of ecstasy and the throes of agony coalesce into bizarre indescribable sensation.

And you haven’t even scratched the surface. I wish I could see the inside of Karl Jacobi, Euler, Srinvasa Ramanujan, Newton and the likes. What extraordinary minds!