Math ~ ing
“If I’d stop math ~ ing, I’d stop existing” This almost spontaneous words, swirled out, when a dear friend asked, “why do you love it so much”
It’s like crushing ice cubes, and spraying ice powder on hair, when you miss the winters (Thats figureoutability quotient (FI) I guess)
I really truly feel, there’s so much beauty to coming back to your true essence, to keep it safe and guarded, till it’s ready to shine.
Mathematics to me is “that” relay sport.
There’s more than perspective, when you immerse yourself in the practice, the point when it actually becomes art.
There’s flow and steadiness.
The numbers become sturdy and the space between them pacing in pulses, flow past it.
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Like the horns of a cow.
The formulas and calculations become neater and clearer.
The Hubble space telescope that you imagined buying as a kid, is just there.
A constellation on the glass window
The process becomes prettier and crispy light.
Smooth like cow dung.
And when you come out and see, it appears like a night sky full of stars.
The cheeks blush rainbow colours when the eyes open and see the majestic mystery.
