Mathematics always left some loose end in my head. A succinct illustration of a few:
Why is it that the number of constants is always lesser than the number of variables? Variables are x, y, z, a, b, c, d......continued to n and constant, a few I remember pi=22/7, or e.
Why is it that constants come in all the situations to support variables in getting the answer? A mammoth task of finding an area of circle becomes so easy when pi comes as an equalizer.
Mathematics could just make me acquainted with its geometry by passing tangentially through my head. My dad so much wanted it be a secant but it remained a tangent. I simply wanted to know the philosophy, constant and variables, and folks ended up explaining me the language. I am always bad at learning language. I flunked in my Spanish classes.
It's been seven years, I have officially left mathematics. It still puzzles me and remains my favourite subject. I never dared to officially accept the fact though. I keep exploring, thinking and wondering wonders of mathematics, deciphering the philosophy of mathematics hoping that some day that discovery of philosophy may help me in falling in love with the mathematical 'language'. The interconnections have been vague, the achievements gradual, yet consistency triggers the effort.
This morning when I woke up, a realization dawned on me,
‘A few constants and rest variables-that’s make the philosophy of life’.
A cyclic pattern repeats in my life. A feeling of sense of loss,emotions pouring from the heart and not getting a vent. Nothing comforts me during this time. I talk to people, smiling, laughing and get a li’l lost in between to see myself crying or laughing at the loudest. The way I laughed long back. The sense of pleasure I got as a five year old kid when mummy tickled me, when I rode on papa's back after he came back from office, when I wore my new black beautiful frock in a party, when mum arrived from hospital carrying a new child to play with. A li’l older I was and pleasure took a new direction. I was elated to see my crush secretly watching me and siblings pulling my leg, the day when I dated first. The way I cried when a man broke my heart for the first time. Life held meaning in those moments.
