Friday 22 October, 2010

Song of the Free

This has to be one of the most brilliant pieces of writing.......ever.






The wounded snake its hood unfurls,
The flame stirred up doth blaze,
The desert air resounds the calls
Of heart-struck lion's rage.

The cloud puts forth it deluge strength
When lightning cleaves its breast,
When the soul is stirred to its in most depth
Great ones unfold their best.

Let eyes grow dim and heart grow faint,
And friendship fail and love betray,
Let Fate its hundred horrors send,
And clotted darkness block the way.

All nature wear one angry frown,
To crush you out - still know, my soul,
You are Divine. March on and on,
Nor right nor left but to the goal.

Nor angel I, nor man, nor brute,
Nor body, mind, nor he nor she,
The books do stop in wonder mute
To tell my nature; I am He.

Before the sun, the moon, the earth,
Before the stars or comets free,
Before e'en time has had its birth,
I was, I am, and I will be.

The beauteous earth, the glorious sun,
The calm sweet moon, the spangled sky,
Causation's law do make them run;
They live in bonds, in bonds they die.

And mind its mantle dreamy net
Cast o'er them all and holds them fast.
In warp and woof of thought are set,
Earth, hells, and heavens, or worst or best.

Know these are but the outer crust -
All space and time, all effect, cause.
I am beyond all sense, all thoughts,
The witness of the universe.

Not two nor many, 'tis but one,
And thus in me all me's I have;
I cannot hate, I cannot shun
Myself from me, I can but love.

From dreams awake, from bonds be free,
Be not afraid. This mystery,
My shadow, cannot frighten me,
Know once for all that I am He.

- Swami Vivekananda

Wednesday 13 October, 2010

The prophetic flash of brilliance

The arithmetic class was in progress. The teacher was solving questions on division. On the blackboard were drawn three bananas. "We have three bananas, " the teacher said, "and we have three boys.Can you tell me how many each will get?" 






A smart boy in the front row replied, "Each will get one."
"Right, " the teacher said. "Now, similarly, if 1,000 i bananas are distributed among 1,000 boys, each will get one, Isn't that so?"


While the teacher was explaining, a boy sitting in one corner raised his hand and stood up. The teacher stopped and waited for the boy to speak.

"Sir, " the boy asked, "if no banana is distributed among no one, will everyone still get one banana?" There was a roar of laughter in the class. What a silly question to ask!

"Quiet," the teacher said loudly and thumped the desk. "There's nothing to laugh at. I will just explain what he means to say. For the division of bananas, we divided three by three, saying that each boy will get one banana. Similarly, we divided 1,000 by 1,000 to get one. What he is asking is that if zero banana is divided among zero, will each one get one? The answer is 'no'. Mathematically, each will get an infinite number of bananas!"

Everyone laughed again. The boys understood the trick arithmetic had played upon them. What they could not understand was why the teacher later complimented the boy who had asked that absurd question.

The boy had asked a question that had taken mathematicians several centuries to answer. Some mathematicians claimed that zero divided by zero was zero. Others claimed it to be unity. It was the Indian mathematician Bhaskara who proved that it is indeterminate.

The boy who asked the intriguing question was Srinivasa Ramanujan. Throughout his life, whether in his native Kumbakonam or Cambridge, he was always ahead of his mathematics teachers and is still ahead of most contemporary mathematicians.


 - Anonymous (Found it while browsing)

Thursday 7 October, 2010

Beginning with an "IF"

Counting on your inspirations is the way to go! What better way than a certain "IF"..

                                                             IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: 





If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son! 

--Rudyard Kipling