:D. Thank you Supreme Court!
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Sunday, December 07, 2008
The Kid, the Moon and the Telescope
A little story about a kid. This kid had lately been learning about the solar system in his science class. The teacher was dedicated and had the ability to communicate the wonder of heavenly bodies while remaining scientifically accurate. Our kid was getting interested in these other-worldly things and spent a lot of time trying to picture what he learnt - colorful planets revolving around the sun, a white glowing spotty moon, a solar surface full of flames. He personified the planets and imagined himself meeting them, introducing himself, shaking hands. Pluto was the friendliest one, Jupiter and Saturn were adults and Neptune and Uranus were reserved and remained more or less strangers. Mercury was always hurried and he didn't want to disturb it. Venus and Mars though, remained hard to imagine as people and he could visualise them only as planets.
He got a strange pleasure out of roaming on his terrace at night and looking at the sky - the night sky intrigued him endlessly. His parents weren't too happy about this tendency of aloofness but our kid managed to steal time for himself everyday, looking at the sky, not talking even to himself, not thinking, just standing and watching. He had some recurring images he used to play in his mind. He saw the planets attached to the sun with a taut string, and the sun pulling them around with it. The string analogy his teacher had given them had stuck. Then there was a picture of the rotating earth, half in darkness and half in light, which he had seen in his textbook and had extrapolated into a running picture where he saw the earth actually rotating and making day and night. He tried to figure out god's position in the whole arrangement. He remembered the stories about god being in everything but couldn't get rid of the notion that god was somewhere high up there, levitating around. Then there was a problem of proportion, he just couldn't get his head around the size of planets and the distances involved. One moment the planets were like little specks only faintly visible even in his thoughts, and the next they were like huge spheres spinning towards him covering the whole sky.
It's amazing how involved he had become with the sky. It was like he had discovered a new world to live in. It's a great thing about the mind - you can live anywhere in your thoughts. Kids always have some place where they go and hide to spend some quiet time by themselves when the transcendental stupidity or the incessant nose-poking of adults becomes too much to take, meaning no disrespect. Our kid had found quite some hiding place for himself - the outer space. There's just nobody there. At times, he smiled and got fits of ecstasy looking at the sky. At times, he felt sad about not being able to share the joy of this discovery with anyone. He knew his parents would never roam around like him on the terrace, just looking at the sky with the same curiosity. In fact, it would be difficult to keep them just quiet for a while, for god's sake. And his sister was too young. And again, he could never take a piece of the sky inside the house. He would never find one of the stars, for example, dining with him and his parents and his little sister. But this feeling stayed only for a short time, usually while descending the stairs to go back to the house to sleep.
He was becoming a quiet child which worried his parents and teachers. But it was for none of the far-fetched reasons they came up with. There was just nothing to say in his second world. There were these stars hanging there, occasionally the moon and sometimes the clouds - everything moving slowly under a deep, vast sky. Nobody looked like they were getting bored, or had any need for chit-chat. They just existed together in silence, and made a beautiful picture. Where was the need to talk? If his experience of conversations in his first life was any reference, the conversations in his second life should have been something like the stars telling the moon about various beauty creams available to remove its spots, and the stars themselves getting reprimanded by the parental sky for their whimsical twinkling. The sky itself would have been called a big bore for just hanging there, and by god, our kid didn't want to have any of that. In his second life, it was as if everyone knew everything, and a lot of meaning just hung in the air, without any need for words. He had carried this quietness into his first world. He spoke only when it was necessary, but liked to hear others talk.
So, a certain Monday the science teacher told the class that they'll get to watch the moon through a telescope. It was scheduled for Friday night. A strange thing happened. Our kid felt confused and upset on hearing this. He immediately pictured a vast, rugged, lonely lunar surface, thrown suddenly into close-up for him until it was all he could see. The picture was violent for him, and he surprised himself by getting scared of it. He had been observing the moon carefully, whenever it was visible, for sometime now. The prospect of seeing it in a different, a much closer, more imposing view made him nervous. Probably he had become rather familiar and comfortable with the sky and its inhabitants as he saw them. What if he saw something terrible on the moon's surface? Something scary? But he also knew that there was no way he could back out of this and stay home while everyone was there looking closely at the sky's wonders. He just wanted the event to get delayed. He wasn't ready for such closeness yet. He wasn't done with looking at the sky at normal distance. It was still mysterious to him, and his time in his second world was the best time of his day. He didn't want anything to change. But he knew there was no way this could happen. Nobody believes in stopping. With all the frantic emphasis on continuous and lifelong learning, specially on completing the syllabus that teachers put, there was no way a kid could be allowed to pause and wonder about what he had learnt, things which were wonderful in so many ways - in how they could ever exist, how people over the centuries have discovered them, how people around him and before him have had the same thoughts as he, and how could a mind ever understand anything. What is it, really? Our kid was also confused about what he should feel for the moon - was it proper for him to peep and intrude through a telescope when they had been existing together peacefully for so long, and at the same time, would the moon feel bad if he didn't turn up when he had the chance to see it close? There were no answers and while the confusion stayed till the end, our kid decided to go.
Now it was Friday night and though our kid was still unsure, he didn't show it. He dressed up in casuals and went to the school with his parents after dinner. It was different to be in school so late at night. They went to the terrace and saw the teacher and the other students with their parents. The atmosphere was noisy and exciting and our kid caught the beat. He joined a group of friends while his parents stood around the teacher looking at the telescope's set-up. He managed to put all his doubts away for a while and stood chatting. The teachers then announced that things were ready and gave a short lecture about lenses and some other technical details. The telescope was directed at the moon, and the kids were lined up in front of it, looking at it one by one. The parents were all grouped up behind the kids. Our kid was standing somewhere near the end of the line. The teachers were re-adjusting the telescope a little every other minute to account for the moon's motion in the sky. The kids who had already seen through were grouped behind the telescope and were chattering excitedly. Our kid was just awaiting his turn. Even though he hadn't been worried tonight, seeing the excited kids assured him that there was nothing scary, and he laughed to himself.
It was his turn now. He looked in and was surprised to see everything turn white all of a sudden. He had been imagining it all along but actually seeing it was a completely different feeling. The areas which were clear were milky white, and the spotted areas were gray, but not as dull as he had imagined. He raised his head to look at the actual moon, and then lowered it back into the telescope. He whispered "Hi, moon" in his mind and then walked away towards his excited friends.
On reaching back home, when everyone was asleep, he went up to the terrace for a while. He looked at the moon, and it was the same as it had been. He didn't see it any different. It seemed as if it was a different thing you saw through the telescope than what you saw for real. He looked around himself on the earth - houses, trees, electric poles and wires. It was all quiet. He looked up again at the sky and just stood there for a while.
...
Our kid would retain a memory of what he felt those days. It would sometimes make him happy by giving him belief, and would sometimes make him miserable by not letting him complain against the world. But he would always know that there's some meaning somewhere. The thing of beauty he once saw would be his joy forever.
He got a strange pleasure out of roaming on his terrace at night and looking at the sky - the night sky intrigued him endlessly. His parents weren't too happy about this tendency of aloofness but our kid managed to steal time for himself everyday, looking at the sky, not talking even to himself, not thinking, just standing and watching. He had some recurring images he used to play in his mind. He saw the planets attached to the sun with a taut string, and the sun pulling them around with it. The string analogy his teacher had given them had stuck. Then there was a picture of the rotating earth, half in darkness and half in light, which he had seen in his textbook and had extrapolated into a running picture where he saw the earth actually rotating and making day and night. He tried to figure out god's position in the whole arrangement. He remembered the stories about god being in everything but couldn't get rid of the notion that god was somewhere high up there, levitating around. Then there was a problem of proportion, he just couldn't get his head around the size of planets and the distances involved. One moment the planets were like little specks only faintly visible even in his thoughts, and the next they were like huge spheres spinning towards him covering the whole sky.
It's amazing how involved he had become with the sky. It was like he had discovered a new world to live in. It's a great thing about the mind - you can live anywhere in your thoughts. Kids always have some place where they go and hide to spend some quiet time by themselves when the transcendental stupidity or the incessant nose-poking of adults becomes too much to take, meaning no disrespect. Our kid had found quite some hiding place for himself - the outer space. There's just nobody there. At times, he smiled and got fits of ecstasy looking at the sky. At times, he felt sad about not being able to share the joy of this discovery with anyone. He knew his parents would never roam around like him on the terrace, just looking at the sky with the same curiosity. In fact, it would be difficult to keep them just quiet for a while, for god's sake. And his sister was too young. And again, he could never take a piece of the sky inside the house. He would never find one of the stars, for example, dining with him and his parents and his little sister. But this feeling stayed only for a short time, usually while descending the stairs to go back to the house to sleep.
He was becoming a quiet child which worried his parents and teachers. But it was for none of the far-fetched reasons they came up with. There was just nothing to say in his second world. There were these stars hanging there, occasionally the moon and sometimes the clouds - everything moving slowly under a deep, vast sky. Nobody looked like they were getting bored, or had any need for chit-chat. They just existed together in silence, and made a beautiful picture. Where was the need to talk? If his experience of conversations in his first life was any reference, the conversations in his second life should have been something like the stars telling the moon about various beauty creams available to remove its spots, and the stars themselves getting reprimanded by the parental sky for their whimsical twinkling. The sky itself would have been called a big bore for just hanging there, and by god, our kid didn't want to have any of that. In his second life, it was as if everyone knew everything, and a lot of meaning just hung in the air, without any need for words. He had carried this quietness into his first world. He spoke only when it was necessary, but liked to hear others talk.
So, a certain Monday the science teacher told the class that they'll get to watch the moon through a telescope. It was scheduled for Friday night. A strange thing happened. Our kid felt confused and upset on hearing this. He immediately pictured a vast, rugged, lonely lunar surface, thrown suddenly into close-up for him until it was all he could see. The picture was violent for him, and he surprised himself by getting scared of it. He had been observing the moon carefully, whenever it was visible, for sometime now. The prospect of seeing it in a different, a much closer, more imposing view made him nervous. Probably he had become rather familiar and comfortable with the sky and its inhabitants as he saw them. What if he saw something terrible on the moon's surface? Something scary? But he also knew that there was no way he could back out of this and stay home while everyone was there looking closely at the sky's wonders. He just wanted the event to get delayed. He wasn't ready for such closeness yet. He wasn't done with looking at the sky at normal distance. It was still mysterious to him, and his time in his second world was the best time of his day. He didn't want anything to change. But he knew there was no way this could happen. Nobody believes in stopping. With all the frantic emphasis on continuous and lifelong learning, specially on completing the syllabus that teachers put, there was no way a kid could be allowed to pause and wonder about what he had learnt, things which were wonderful in so many ways - in how they could ever exist, how people over the centuries have discovered them, how people around him and before him have had the same thoughts as he, and how could a mind ever understand anything. What is it, really? Our kid was also confused about what he should feel for the moon - was it proper for him to peep and intrude through a telescope when they had been existing together peacefully for so long, and at the same time, would the moon feel bad if he didn't turn up when he had the chance to see it close? There were no answers and while the confusion stayed till the end, our kid decided to go.
Now it was Friday night and though our kid was still unsure, he didn't show it. He dressed up in casuals and went to the school with his parents after dinner. It was different to be in school so late at night. They went to the terrace and saw the teacher and the other students with their parents. The atmosphere was noisy and exciting and our kid caught the beat. He joined a group of friends while his parents stood around the teacher looking at the telescope's set-up. He managed to put all his doubts away for a while and stood chatting. The teachers then announced that things were ready and gave a short lecture about lenses and some other technical details. The telescope was directed at the moon, and the kids were lined up in front of it, looking at it one by one. The parents were all grouped up behind the kids. Our kid was standing somewhere near the end of the line. The teachers were re-adjusting the telescope a little every other minute to account for the moon's motion in the sky. The kids who had already seen through were grouped behind the telescope and were chattering excitedly. Our kid was just awaiting his turn. Even though he hadn't been worried tonight, seeing the excited kids assured him that there was nothing scary, and he laughed to himself.
It was his turn now. He looked in and was surprised to see everything turn white all of a sudden. He had been imagining it all along but actually seeing it was a completely different feeling. The areas which were clear were milky white, and the spotted areas were gray, but not as dull as he had imagined. He raised his head to look at the actual moon, and then lowered it back into the telescope. He whispered "Hi, moon" in his mind and then walked away towards his excited friends.
On reaching back home, when everyone was asleep, he went up to the terrace for a while. He looked at the moon, and it was the same as it had been. He didn't see it any different. It seemed as if it was a different thing you saw through the telescope than what you saw for real. He looked around himself on the earth - houses, trees, electric poles and wires. It was all quiet. He looked up again at the sky and just stood there for a while.
...
Our kid would retain a memory of what he felt those days. It would sometimes make him happy by giving him belief, and would sometimes make him miserable by not letting him complain against the world. But he would always know that there's some meaning somewhere. The thing of beauty he once saw would be his joy forever.
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