From where, by whom, when, how, for what i dont know.
But this is how it happened. I narrate verbatim.
Timing of class: 5.30 pm in the evening. Walks in, Professor Vogt, Professor Bill Vogt. He teaches us Econometrics.
Backgrounder: Third Lecture of this subject in this semester. My first serious course in mathematical economics. Till date, i have been weak in mathematics, ever since after class 10, equally skeptical about mathematics, as it is applied to engineering studies or social science studies. Have always believed numbers can never can capture the true story.
Start of Class: Simple stuff, let us not get into the details of it. But we start going deeper and deeper into the simple stuff. After a point, we have a ten minute break. Professor returns, till then, whatever he taught in the first one and half hour of lecture, proclaims, doesnt capture the 'real world' enough. Squashes whatever he taught, till then, moves on to a new theory. And here it is when things start becoming interesting.
A new paradigm of life: When God, Truth, Reality, infinity, meshes itself all up, and appears not in the beginning of a moment, not at the end of a moment, but very much on tiptoes, in the middle of the moment. Precisely what happened here too. We talked of God, the class, the professor, of the experimenter, of truth, and reality, and when it all ended, i was sailing in it.
Sailing in the entire feeling of the 3 hour lecture. With a new kind of feeling.
- That reminded me of Dadu, from childhood days, and how he used to suck me into Onko (mathematics) with the excitement of a child.
- Reminded me of people like him, and very few other people (actually perhaps no one), who are walkers in the pursuit of knowledge. Yes, Professor Vogt is one such gentleman, quiet, unassuming, starts on the blackboard, with a chalk in hand, armed with his boyish charm, and with stating of the initial conditions. And then goes on and on, in a lovely rhythm of his own. In between he asks the stupidest of questions, to us, we are so enthralled, that we almost forget to answer, and he stands red-faced and says: "As much stupid as the question of mine might sound, here i wait for the answer still." His face, ashen, cherry, waiting, in its own, methodical patient, worshipping manner, that people fall in love with mathematics.
He reminds me in his quietitude of a close friend, Bhatta of mine, but even bhatta is not as calm, still, must add bhatta might one day be, that Professor Vogt is.
At the end of it all, i remind myself, that here i am. Sitting in his class, conversing mathematics, again, with a childlike charm, and worshipping this new life of mine, for all it is giving me.
Each of these moments, as they come unheralded, unannounced, and sweeps me off my feet. Much Like God. To God then, a request, please do stay, i am in need of you, sweeping me over and over again.
What else can i write here! Nothing much. Be silent and go through the entire experience, and start learning, what i can, so that i can start implementing some of it, if not all of it, slowly in my life. Pass it on to my next generation, if i am blessed with one such, that feeling too.
So till the next time, here to, God, Reality, the experimenters, Professor Vogt who has walked quite some distance and us, who have just started the journey: I dedicate this Bengali song, written by Robindronath Thakur.
Towards you, Oh Lord,
let all my love find their pourings...
From you, let all my deepest hope,
find their hearings...
My soul, where and when it stays,
May it listen to your urgings,
Let all the ties get torn,
all in your calling, Oh Lord..
These exterior begging plates of mine,
Let this all end entirely, this time,
So that my interior gets secretly filled up,
In this blessing of yours, Oh Lord
Oh friend of mine, Oh my most inner self,
In this life, all that is beautiful,
Let it all rhyme out today in music
in your song, only in your song, Oh lord
Towards you, Oh Lord,
let all my love find their pourings...
From you, let all my deepest
hopes, find their hearings..
Amen, Pronam..
~a quiet child.
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