Saturday, June 24, 2006

Srinivasa Ramanujan Iyengar

This idea has been on the back of my mind for quite sometime, but like always, the quintessential lackadaisical attitude never let the mind make the first propulsion. I sat pondering one day about famous people whom I have read about in length. By the phrase 'in length', I mean that I have made a conscientious attempt to explore more about their life stories than just a pedantic attempt. In the following few monographs ('blogs' sounded too rustic and crude), I would attempt to make a short sketch of their lives. I would have wanted to avoid biographical details that may be found in books written by very competent authors more dedicated to the cause than a tinker like me. But facts and details somehow induce chronology and coherence to a literary attempt. They also enable the writer to communicate in a language that the reader can follow and not delve too much into his own mystical abstractions which may sound profound but are in reality, very perfunctory. But to state once again, this is not a biography and does not follow the person's entire life history. It may best be visualised as an abridgement of their life stories written not by a professional biographer but a mere college undergraduate who feels truly enthralled to know them and is excited to share the story.
Srinivasa Ramanujan Iyengar was born to a modest brahmin family in 1887 in a small town called Erode. This was a period when India was under the British imperialistic regime. 1865 to 1910 could be considered as a fairly dormant period as far as the anti-British revolution was concerned. Moreover, South India was in the true sense of the word, never really rebellious in nature. Ramanujan was born at a time when western education was encouraged and accepted by the bourgeoise and thus, it was a time when local government colleges were producing a decent output of competent Indian graduates in the sciences, literature and engineering. But the British used to discriminate shamlessly when it came to positions in the government and corporate firms. The educated Indian bourgeoise could at best, hold positions of Diwans or clerks in the British machinery. So to speak, India had not really produced any real 'scientist' till then who was noticed by the rest of the world, but academic societies had sprouted and were active in the country. For instance, there was the Indian Mathematical Society which produced a periodic journal which had contributions from local Indian amateur mathematicians and mathematics professors. The society had members from the educated Indian middle class, for whom mathematics was a penchant and an escape from the mundane clerical work that was imposed upon them by the British employment structure, clearly belittling their education and intellect. But like it is always a choice between the lesser of two evils, the fact that the Indian bourgeoise had access to education ensured the advent of an intellectual renaissance in India in the latter half of the nineteenth century. If it were not for this, Ramanujan's birth and existence would have probably been reduced to an anachronism and he would have been lost in oblivion.

With this background of an India saddled under imperialism, we now picture a small town in southern India, where, in the midst of the tropical heat, a young brahmin boy with an extraordinary acumen for mathematics was growing up. Ramanujan established his mathematical skills right from childhood among his peers and school teachers. Not only did he unflinchingly score a centum in every school exam he was also known to walk out of the examination hall in one third of the time while his oblivious classmates still sat wrestling difficult questions in elementary algebra and euclidean geometry. One of his contemporaries at school, who later outlived him that Ramanujan used to impress his fellow school mates by his ability to recite the value of pi upto a hundred decimal places from his memory. While he was in seventh grade he prepared a time-table for his entire school, a job that was entrusted to him by his mathematics teacher who found it difficult to construct one himself which would avoid time-slot clashes for a handful of teachers tutoring multiple classes. Round about the same time Ramanujan laid his hands on S. L. Loney's classic textbooks on elementary trigonometry and co-ordinate geometry. These were university level texts at that time, Loney being a mathematics professor in England. Ramanujan mastered these texts while he was barely thirteen ( I personally recollect myself struggling with some of the advanced problems in these books while I was 17 and preparing for my JEE). But the important thing was, that these experiences motivated Ramanujan to carve out a path of originality and extrapolate to really advanced original mathematics from simple elementary texts.

Ramanujan's father was an ordinary clerk, a devout and pious man. His mother, a devout Hindu woman, exerted more influence on Ramanujan's life than his father. Ramanujan was the eldest of three brothers. As records speak, no one in his family, both immediate and extended, is known to have possessed an interest for higher academics, let alone a genius of the magnitude even close to that of Ramanujan. But like most Brahmin families in the south, his was one who valued education, and it did not take them long to realise that Ramanujan was gifted. Ramanujan himself was a Hindu with religious values strongly ingrained into him. He commonly mentioned to his friends and contemporaries that the local diety, the goddess of Namagiri used to appear in his dreams and used to convey mathematical theorems to him. An Indian contemporary of Ramanujan in Cambridge later recalled that the genius once mentioned to him that "A mathematical theorem is useless to me unless it expresses a thought of God." It is queer sometimes to a person like me, one who calls himself an 'agnostic' (it sounds more intellectual than 'aethist') that such unparalleled genius can exist and propagate inside a a ghetto of innocence and blinded faith. Perhaps, it would be queer to the reader too that an unknown man in southern India, with no formal training with mathematics and no access to international mathematical work close to a hundred years of his time could, from elementary textbooks, extrapolate theories that had baffled famous mathematicians for over 300 years, and yet claim that an inanimate object of worship conveyed them to him in his dreams. Perhaps what we lack is faith which dissolves all intellectual masquerades that all of us put on.

Coming back to his life in High School, Loney's books made the young Ramanujan realise his penchant for mathematics and transform it into a passion. They introduced him into a confluence of trigonometry and algebra which he tackled with finesse. He also spent sometime on geometry, but later on realised that algebra was what he'd like to invest his time upon. Loney's books introduced him to infinite series, an area in which he would prove himself to be the supreme master pretty soon. Ramanujan's family frequently rented out rooms to university college students. This was another important phase in his life and it is believed that he taught himself calculus and higher algebra in their company and in no time he started attending their queries and doubts. When he was of age 16-17, an elder friend procured Ramanjuan, an old mathematical textbook, outdated by 50 years even in those times. This old, out of print book was the pandora's box that opened Ramanujan's genius to the entire world.

(to be continued...)

Monday, June 19, 2006

The signs of New York

It might take some more courage, strength and alcohol to be able to assimilate all the memories of the trip to NY on the last weekend. I wouldnt even bother to describe the city because of the proverbial fear of screwing it up with prolixity. But the following are some of the interesting pictures that I took. They hardly represent the physiognomy of the city, but nonetheless are worth a laugh or the stretch of an eye-lid.

The following is the photo of a very interesting beggar outside the entrance to the empire state building.. The lady is just a random tourist who wanted to patronize with him.



The following explains itself. Clicked it on a trash can in Times Square!

This was a poster in the subway station. Very nice nonetheless!

Again from the wall of arbitrary!

central park, belvedre lake..

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Metaphors were always my favourite figures of speech

The Curse:
It was a day like any other day. I came back home from work and was too lazy to make dinner anyway. Inevitably so, it was destined to be another day where I savour myself with a feast of lemonade to fill my tummy.

I lay stretched out, with my machine in front and a glass of the best lemonade in town. It looked something like this:


The Fall:
Not that there was anything nefarious or exciting on the screen, but the next thing I know is that I had spilled lemonade on my machine!!! The sacred circuits of the only constant thing in my life was going to be drenched by sugar water! I gathered my emotions and took a snap of the poor thing:


Redemption:
I probably am too attached to this goddamn thing. It seems to govern my life more than the lemonade that I spilt over it. Lemonade, for instance, doesnt need care and affection, and only knows to give pleasure. A computer is not like that and requires ministrations. I hate it. My dad bought it for me and expected that I would treat it with a lot of care and affection. I know I failed him.

If we can't break our attachments, let us drown them :D.

Monday, June 12, 2006

The End

I was taking a walk towards home the other night. On State street, I saw a drunk boy and a girl lying on each other on a pavement. A beggar wearing headphones was standing over them and taking his usual fag. The rest of the street was as active as it ever gets around here. The words that came to my mind then was kinda obvious:

"Can you picture what will be,
So limitless and free,
desperately in need,
of some stranger's hand,
in a desperate land."
- The End

Immortality

A curse you will live to see,
You'll never cease to be.

On the darker side of the world,
I shall rest, snug and curled.

A witness on a starry night,
The moon will moan its elegy,
As you fly and follow the light,
It will hurt to set you free.

Sunday, June 11, 2006

A honest lie is the clearest shadow of the truth that it covers.

Friday, June 09, 2006

Sleepy

The thing I hate about most religions is that they choose to turn their backs to the true physics of human nature. Nature is a pandora's box, full of surprises and shocks. It is beyond determinism or stochasticity. There is no defined objective that is the goal of life. But life itself may be the ultimate goal of a singular objective.

You thought the best things in life always come for a price? Try not breathing for a minute.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

Dreams

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."
-
Oscar Wilde

Excuses

The last four days, if anything, have been conspicuously unproductive. First, there was the problem of calculating the eigenvalues of large stiff matrices. Then Benedickson's theorem came to resurrect the computational bottleneck. Then there was the problem of resolving the return on investment calculations of intersecting elementary modes, and a little object oriented programming came as a messiah. The present lingering issue is that of constructing a theoretical framework, so that motifs like metabolite inhibition fall under the shelter of weighted optimal control.

For the oblivious reader who thinks I am talking crap, I am. Laziness is not a valid reason to fake unproductivity, though it is a more satisfying and pleasant excuse to the mind than incompetence is.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Conversation

"All lies and jest,
Till a man hears,
what he wants to hear
and disregards the rest."
- S & G ('The boxer')

You may talk to me if you want to. But make sure I'm listening. Most of the times it is not necessary for two people to talk, while engaged in a conversation.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Money

Money!
So they say,
Is the root of all evil,
Today!

Money, its a hitch,
dont give me that,
too goody good
bullshit!

Too much at one time can consume you completely today! Well who wants to live and see tomorrow anyway :)!

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Paragon

I have come to realise that a simple original thought is the most profound thing in a seeker's repertoire.

When you have run out of ideas, you know you have begun to think out of the box.

Auguries of innocence

The following are extracts from William Blake's Auguries of innocence. This is surely one of the best pieces I have come accross yet. I guess writing poetry is similar to the perennial economic agenda - To get more from less. In poetry's case, it is the problem of conveying more with less words.

I guess that follows with not only poets but also many others - even mathematicians! Someone happened to say of Coleridge that he wrote little poetry but that of the highest order. I guess of the great german mathematician Riemann, they say the same. His memoirs could be condensed to 200 pages but they have kept mathematicians busy for more than 200 years.

This is the first verse of William Blake's masterpiece:

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

The next two come from somewhere in between:

The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.

Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.

And finally the last two verses which again are knockers!

We are led to believe a lie
When we see not thro' the eye,
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.

God appears, and God is light,
To those poor souls who dwell in night;
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Answers

The final answer can bring you mere knowledge. It is the search for it that holds the wisdom.

All good things in the world end, when seekers find themselves consciously responsible for this dichotomy.

Friday, June 02, 2006

I live in a 'meritocratic' nation!

This is a time in India that has serious potential for 'anarchy' and 'revolution'. The youth seem to be 'awakened' and are voicing their opinions, making protests, going on hunger strikes and warning authorities to forestall a potential calamity on the fate of 'meritocracy' in our nation. All of this with more tenacity and fervor than ever before.

I may be wrong but I seem to find myself dry of all the anti-reservation tension that is causing a ripple among the youth of the country. Maybe I am more lazy than I am wrong. Maybe I say so because I have yet not been directly affected by it owing to my 'aristocratic' lineage that has always showered its opulence on my well-being. May be there will come a time when I shall be awakened. I guess then I shall join the protests and lose some weight.

I come from a 'pure' lineage. I can proudly exhort that I am a descendent of a caste that has been the nurturer and safekeeper of 'Dharma' and 'Jnana' in a society where people practise the 'sanatana dharma' (a religion which has no beginning and is a direct gospel from the almighty). I probably did have ancestors who strongly believed (probably backed their belief with a strong amount of reasoning and analysis that made them worthy of their bloodline) that there is a section of humanity that is accursed. That section whom even God does not want to entertain and upon whom the curse of isolation shall be imposed. Yes, that is the greatest deed a Brahmin could do. Give a 'shoodra' and his descendants the life that they deserve. They could clean our latrines and at the end of the day, feed on our leftovers. That austerity probably may one day grant those accursed the path of heaven. We just have to make sure that we keep a hold on those scoundrels and never let them surface above the seat of the toilet.

I suppose the time has come to pay for our sins. But I guess there is still a chance that we can put all that behind us and still talk about equality and meritocracy which we have always upholded!

Duality

Am I smart enough to realise that I am the dumbest person on this planet or dumb enough to think I'm the smartest person on the face of this earth?

Pit Stop 1

It has been a month and I have completed what was expected of me for the entire summer.
You always get a nice feeling when you have finished something you started. Most people mistake this with the feeling of accomplishment. The intrinsic feeling is the same, just that the reasons may be entirely different. You can 'accomplish' only something that you pursued entirely on your own. In my case, I have finished my 'job' of generalising a mathematical model applicable to larger and complex systems. The model was someone else's. I did only an intern's work. Probably a little more than that but purely clerical.

It is time I stopped being an outsider and moved in!

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Fear

Of all the things I hate to be, I hate being an Outsider most.

The most scary part is the moment where you need to step indside the door sometime or the other.