Art, Science and Einstein

"The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science." - Albert Einstein

This man always amazes me. I wonder how-the-hell he knew everything he did. I will keep admiration aside for now. What I have to say is neither about him and not exactly about what he means in this sentence of his.
This quote of his struck me enough to make me write it down because of one reason - the two things he mentions - true art and true science. I am just wondering aloud to all of you, correct me if I am wrong - is it not these very two things that is a common bind to all intellectuals? (I wont go into a definition of this category. I used the word not to categorize but to ensure that my readers do not start thinking of people who do not have anything to do with art and science) Isn't that all that really? Art and science - two manifestations of the mysterious. Two things that have always swayed humankind. Two things that are so different yet never against each other. In art you find deep science and in science you find magnificent art. One appeals to intelligence, the other to emotion. Both stimulate you, enthrall you, captivate you and keep you locked.
Now back to Einstein. How-the-hell did the man know all that he did. Where did he get all that.

The Sky. Again.

What colour would you give the sky
If you could change it today
I would like to give it a lovely shade
That even in flowers is rare
I would start painting right away
choosing between brushes and spray
While at it, might paint the whole town too!

The image of the new sky is in my eye
Is that a sapphire in the pouring rain?
Is that a chemical on a petridish?
What glorious colour is this that spreads
What colour is this? Has it no name?
What colour is it that my brushes gave
Wait! This colour is... again... just blue!!

Loud mouth!

She stands tall and high
She yells and screams
All around her have no choice
But to rush in before she cries

Loud shriek - ear pierce
She yells and screams
All around have no choice
But to work cupping their ears

She has fixed times - everyday
She yells and screams
All around her have no choice
But to do as she says

But in the evening when she calls
She yells and screams
All around her rejoice
It is the finally the day's fall
It is time to go home!

Mixed pictures

The cold wind sang in my ears
The sun shone bright and warm
Shade after shade of green rushed past me
Washed me with an urgent sense of calm
A storm brewed in my head
The whole world held its breath
Answer after question raged inside me
Like life defeating certain death

Creative low

She writes away
Just a play
of words
Nothing to convey
Only to give way
to collected steam
At the end of the day

Ignore list

"I never drink water, it is the stuff that rusts pipes" - W.C. Fields
And how many other things are you going to give up like that? Reading books make you have prejudices, food makes you fat, too much work makes you sick and staying away from family makes you love them "less", or be loved by them "less". How many more? Does anyone else want to say something?

Scene on the Sidewalk

A proper lady - dressed in her best. She wore a magenta and purple shawl around her neck that glimmered when light shown upon it. And she wore an adorable set of jewelery in white to go with. The dress - perfect fit on her- was a dull but shimmering grey velvet that turned green at certain angles. In a very ladylike fashion she moved away and sat on the wall, popping her head, absorbing and taking in everything around her. She was judging the situation, calculating her next move - very unladylike you may say. All the same she was lovely. What was the situation like you may ask. It was like this - the sun was just rising, the air was cool and soft. People were not busily about yet, though they soon would be. They would drive their noisy cars, yell noisy and meaningless words and switch on their noisy and polluting air-conditioners. But that was still a few hours away. Till then she had her time and the world was hers.
She found what she had been looking for, a lone old man - one of the few left that looked out for others. He was dressed in white pyjamas and had a brown shawl thrown over his shriveled shoulders. He was stooping under the weight of his whole life. She might have wondered, what it was that had been so heavy that made him bend so. Or she might not have wondered, we will never know.
He was throwing out grains on the sidewalk and making soft cooing noises. No one would know what it was that went on in his mind as he went about - one wobbly step after another. Slow and purposeful steps that led to where? For what?
These questions may have held her for sometime, then she forced herself out of her reverie. She had no more time to waste. She spread her wings out and swooped gracefully down and pecked at the delicious grains that the old man threw out, strutting along as she ate, at peace with the world.

Alcohol all around

I saw something very funny today, funny enough to grin a long way after I had seen it.Shop name - "Janatha Bazaar Liquor Suppliers" with a big neon sign of "Budweiser" above it. It was huge, some sort of supermarket. You went in with a trolley and got the "supplies" you needed I guess. So I glanced at it and inside and at the shiny bottles in racks. Looked really cool. A place you would want to be seen in, with all the right accessories - aviator glasses and all. Right next to that was.. guess what? No? Khadi Gramodyog with our dear old Mahatma's face smiling benevolently. His face in profile was turning towards our Budweiser store as though looking there and giving a smile!
Before you come to conclusions - I am not going to preach. Just found it ironic.

I thought a little more about Gandhi. There has been a lot said about him, in praise of him, against him. I have tried to take sides many times before, but the man simply refuses to fall into a category for me. People say India could have got freedom much before, if it had not been for him. I do not know what the truth is, but I know that whatever it may be, is bound to be convoluted and twisted. I only wonder about the courage of the man. What else could explain how he got so many people to believe in such an idealistic and simple campaign? He just stuck on so persistently to being a pesky creature! He made sure the message of his echoed everywhere. That was all!!

As for our liquor suppliers - they are following his strategy. They are just being persistent and up everywhere. You can be miles away from an ATM, a bus stand or a stationery story in this city I live in. But you can find a liquor store within 20 metres of anywhere. Simple, yet effective campaigning for the cause of the fluids and their druids.

Got an idea?

Is an idea good if and only if it comes to you, when you are trying to find the solution to a problem? What about an idea that comes to you out of the blue, leading you to a problem which could be solved by the implementation of this idea? Furthermore, what about an idea that crops up on you to hold you and shake you and force you into finding some situation in which it can be used.

We have heard so many tales of inventors having "found" their ideas while searching for something different from what they found - like the alchemists. But how many stories have we heard of people trying to find an area of use for some random idea that they may have got? Probably every random idea that people got, led them to find a use for it.

Maybe the question that I am asking is useless. Maybe the most brilliant of ideas are only of value if a problem exists for them to solve.

A quote

The best thing I have read today:
"Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live."
-- Oscar Wilde