ME AND MATHS

In retrospect, in elementary school, numbers and simple operations made mathematics my favourite subject because the basic concepts weren’t hard. The subject appeared charming. But the charm was short-lived and couldn’t enchant me more. The ascension in standard soon broke the spell; addition of strange algebras and complex equations made me a bad magician – making me unable to perform arithmetic tricks and ripping away the enthusiasm once the subject gave me. Even calculator proved it’s a fair weather friend, giving inaccurate answers and being inefficient. In fury, I smashed one, unable to tolerate its disloyalty.

A fair weather friend 

Left alone, I was compelled to take up Bio-science in my intermediate. However, it still didn’t leave me alone for I could sense its faint smell in chemistry and physics. Perhaps, it meant to cross my path again for it made its comeback in my current bachelor course. Only it hasn’t brought the long lost enthusiasm along with. And without this essential equipment, going along with maths is a tough journey. It's mandatory for me. Seeking or compelling interest is an only alternative left.

Luckily, I found an inspiration – a poem from the movie, Harold and Kumar: Escape from Guantanamo Bay. You may like it too. 

“The Square Root of Three”  ( A poem of Love )

I fear that I will always be

A lonely number like root three.

A three is all that’s good and right

Why must my three keep out of sight

Beneath a vicious square-root sign?

I wish instead I were a nine

For nine could thwart this evil trick

With just some quick arithmetic.

I know I’ll never see the sun

As 1.7321

Such is my reality

A sad irrationality

When, hark,  just what is this I see?

Another square root of three

Has quietly come waltzing by

Together now we multiply

To form a number we prefer

Rejoicing as an integer;

We break free from our mortal bonds

And with a wave of magic wands

Our square-root signs become unglued

And love for me has been renewed.

I never knew the wonders of mathematics can be woven into a beautiful poetry. Love the poem. Math is really a subject magical and wonderful, isn’t it. ;-)