Life is never the same again! As I got back into the car and left Cambridge behind, I left a part of me, into that distant historic past of the Village of Cambridge.
It is the story of a young boy growing up in a distant little town in South India. The story of dreams. He grew up dreaming of Cambridge. The Cambridge which taught his childhood hero, a brilliant mathematician who quit a glittering Cambridge career to serve humanity in the dusty lanes of his town.
"What did it mean to be in Cambridge?" was the rhetoric often spoken about in that part of the land! "What did it mean to be in Cambridge?" was almost a talisman growing up. Cambridge meant history! The history, the boy in me so loved. History of so many years that both the hands with all its fingers each counting a century is not enough. And so, began my journey to this historic place, first in my dreams, much later in reality. This village has contributed to 118 Nobel prize winners, my tour guide said! I caught hold of every word of his, like life’s treasures. 118? Oh ya, he shrugged it off! There was an air of nonchalance in that body gyration. He went on! I stopped there. 118! I replayed that number in my mind again. The whole of my country have five, and we celebrate that number. A three-digit stat was beyond belief. I was just about recovering when he said Rutherford discovered electrons in the lab next door. And do you know ‘Watson and Crick’? they celebrated the discovery of DNA in the bar there right across the street. That man continued on his monologue. Not realizing the profundity of his own statements. After talking about Sir. Isaac Newton, Dr Stephen Hawking, Dr Charles Darwin, Bertrand Russel, and Charles Babbage he took a break! Maybe he realized I was still recovering from the number 118! Suddenly it hit me hard. The names do not matter in Cambridge! But it is the ideas; the convictions, that matter. Of course, Sir. Isaac Newton lives on. Yet the Idea of gravity that came out of the hollow blocks is the better optics for the village of Cambridge. Convictions are things certain! The certainty of the ideas which germinated in the minds of the people who lived in this remarkable village. Just to reinstate this, the street corner opposite to the most famous kings’ college is the corpus clock which shows the exact time only once in fifteen minutes. So that clock slows down and fastens up on time every fifteenth minute. And it is completely made of mechanical parts. How is that even possible? Well, In Cambridge it is possible! I took the quiet boat ride across the colleges soaking into the glory of Cambridge’s historicity. The stunning landscape. The refreshing greenery. The huge cathedrals. The old hollow blocks. Yet, when I closed my eyes, Cambridge meant something else. It meant dreams. For it is the place where dreams become reality and in reality, people dream. Dream about big ideas; until they become convictions; till those convictions conquer the world.
"What did it mean to be in Cambridge?" was the rhetoric often spoken about in that part of the land! "What did it mean to be in Cambridge?" was almost a talisman growing up. Cambridge meant history! The history, the boy in me so loved. History of so many years that both the hands with all its fingers each counting a century is not enough. And so, began my journey to this historic place, first in my dreams, much later in reality. This village has contributed to 118 Nobel prize winners, my tour guide said! I caught hold of every word of his, like life’s treasures. 118? Oh ya, he shrugged it off! There was an air of nonchalance in that body gyration. He went on! I stopped there. 118! I replayed that number in my mind again. The whole of my country have five, and we celebrate that number. A three-digit stat was beyond belief. I was just about recovering when he said Rutherford discovered electrons in the lab next door. And do you know ‘Watson and Crick’? they celebrated the discovery of DNA in the bar there right across the street. That man continued on his monologue. Not realizing the profundity of his own statements. After talking about Sir. Isaac Newton, Dr Stephen Hawking, Dr Charles Darwin, Bertrand Russel, and Charles Babbage he took a break! Maybe he realized I was still recovering from the number 118! Suddenly it hit me hard. The names do not matter in Cambridge! But it is the ideas; the convictions, that matter. Of course, Sir. Isaac Newton lives on. Yet the Idea of gravity that came out of the hollow blocks is the better optics for the village of Cambridge. Convictions are things certain! The certainty of the ideas which germinated in the minds of the people who lived in this remarkable village. Just to reinstate this, the street corner opposite to the most famous kings’ college is the corpus clock which shows the exact time only once in fifteen minutes. So that clock slows down and fastens up on time every fifteenth minute. And it is completely made of mechanical parts. How is that even possible? Well, In Cambridge it is possible! I took the quiet boat ride across the colleges soaking into the glory of Cambridge’s historicity. The stunning landscape. The refreshing greenery. The huge cathedrals. The old hollow blocks. Yet, when I closed my eyes, Cambridge meant something else. It meant dreams. For it is the place where dreams become reality and in reality, people dream. Dream about big ideas; until they become convictions; till those convictions conquer the world.
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