Fascination with numbers
Years ago, at a preliminary round of a junior best speaker contest,
Suresh De Mel spoke of his ambition. He wanted to be an accountant. The
reason was ‘fascination with numbers’. He went on to enter university
after studying in the Mathematics stream and later re-invented himself
as an economist. He was and I believe still is teaching in the Economics
Department at Peradeniya.
Numbers are fascinating things. I have written this before; i.e. how
my friend Ravi Arulnandy, when invited to watch a sunset from the Sports
School of the Ministry at Independence Square, watched for a few seconds
and muttered ‘I see beauty in other things.’ When asked to elaborate, he
said ‘numbers’. I suppose in any society there are number-fascinated
individuals. They become mathematicians, accountants, engineers,
economists, statisticians and others whose lives are made of numbers and
equations.
Greater wisdom
I like numbers. Always did. I liked numbers so much that I believed
at the age of 15 that I could not like anything more. So I opted to
enter the maths-stream for my A-Ls. It took me a year to realize that I
liked other things more. My mother, in her greater wisdom, told me to do
the exam once and then switch to arts. I passed, barely, but well enough
to qualify for admission to read for a degree in the physical sciences,
but fortunately or unfortunately had already decided to sit for the A-Ls
the next year in arts. So I entered the Arts Faculty, Peradeniya. The
interest in Mathematics did not subside, for I selected Pure Mathematics
as a ‘Main Subject’ for the General Arts Qualifying Exam. It was a
lonely time since I was the only student and unlike parallel students in
Science Faculty (who had to sit the same paper) did not have access to
the bright sparks who would complete the tutorials and then tutor their
fellow students.
I still like numbers. Last night I wondered what the source of this
interest was. Several hours later, I don’t have a clear answer. The
exercise, however, yielded some unforgettable teachers.
Multiplication tables
Being a second child helped, I think. No one asked me to learn the
multiplication tables. No one asked much about anything, come to think
of it. I am not sure if that was good or bad. I learnt the
multiplication tables and began to see patterns. I picked up a lot of
short cuts, not because I wanted to but because I was lazy and preferred
play to study. I just wanted to get books and school out of the way as
quickly as possible. Everyday. I went to school because ‘school’ meant
‘interval’.
I still remember, though, how I learnt the multiplication tables. I
walked to the particular set of numbers.
Scholarship exam
If it was the seven-times table that I was working on, I would take
one step and think ‘seven’ and would not keep the next unless I got ‘14’
right. It was like that going up staircases and coming down, even if I
was in a rush. ‘Rush’ forced me to think quickly. It must have been some
variant of the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. In later years I would try
to calculate the digital root of number places, especially before we got
‘English Numbers’ and other such games. I’ve led a pretty boring life, I
know.
Mrs Rajapaksa and Mrs Chandraratne (Grade One and two respectively)
must have taught me to write numbers. I owe them. Mrs C Liyanagama was a
meticulously neat teacher. Grade three. She made numbers look like
beautiful pictures. I owe her. Mrs Palihawadana (Grade four) was
interested in speed. I owe her. Mrs Tillakaratne (Grade five) was
obsessed with her class producing the best results at the Scholarship
Exam. She succeeded. I owe her. George Liyanage was strict. Too strict.
Terrified me. I floundered. Lost all interest in Mathematics. I owe him
too for I learnt how not to teach. Mr Cooray (Grade seven) had no
chance, for by that time I had given up on Mathematics as well as
education.
I got 17 in the mid-year test. Sita Weerasooriya who had marked the
year-end papers of that class for some reason and knowing I was the son
of a fellow-teacher, checked my score. She was horrified to find I had
scored ‘only’ 42. I remember grinning and telling her ‘Madam, that’s
very good, I got just 17 in the mid-year test’.
Upali Munasinghe changed it all. He taught as though he was teaching
a Grade One student. Two years plus extra lessons at home (he used to
stay with us on cricket-practice days; he was master-in-charge, Under 13
cricket) revived an interest and turned it into a fascination. Nelson
Fernando (Grade 10) had his own methods and was a very effective
teacher. He ironed out the crumpled corners of the mind. As did Appuhamy,
a teacher at St. Anne’s, Kurunegala, who taught my brother and I when we
spent our school vacations at our grandparents’ house in Malkaduwawa. I
am indebted beyond words to all three.
Dayaratne (Pure and Applied Maths) turned a sagging interest in the
A-L exam into a more committed exercise that produced a ‘C’ out of a
sure ‘F’. Mrs Munasinghe (tuition teacher) turned that ‘C’ into a ‘B’
the following year (I took Pure Mathematics along with three Arts
subjects). I owe them both for helping me enter university.
Mathematics teacher
My last formal mathematics teacher was Kasturiarachchi, who had just
graduated from the Peradeniya Science Faculty and taught me GAQ
Mathematics. I tortured him because classes were at 1.30 every day of
the week and he had to come all the way to Polgolla from Peradeniya and
invariably teach to a drowsy student whose fascination with numbers was
considerably deadened by fascination with other things. I owe him. And
now, totally out of ‘mathematics’, I am taught by my two little girls,
ten and seven years of age. They teach me how to help them. I owe them
too.
My days are now numbered, I know this. I need to say my thank-yous
before it is too late. And in these words of gratitude for making
numbers, please me in so many ways, I am tormented by one lack: the
inability to quantify my thanks.
My older daughter asked me what ‘infinity’ is. I went into the
etymology of the word. She was fascinated. Some things are
unquantifiable. That’s my last ‘mathematics’ lesson and everyone
mentioned above contributed to this ‘learning’. Munasinghe is no more.
So too Appuhamy. I’ve lost the addresses of all the others mentioned.
Makes me sad.
[email protected]
|