From The Travel Book

 

In Ella I visited the Nine Arch Bridge, an incredibly scenic viaduct bridge through which the train passes. It is thought to be one of the best examples of colonial-era railway construction. The construction of the bridge was thought to have been done by P.K. Appuhami, a Ceylonese builder, in consultation with British engineers. There are many interesting stories surrounding P.K. Appuhamy and the bridge. According to one story when construction work commenced the Great War (World War I) began, and the British reallocated the steel from this site to the battlefront. When the work came to a standstill the locals built the bridge with stone bricks and cement, but without using any steel. Using steel or not, this bridge looks rock solid and though countless trains have passed through it every day for over a century works flawlessly.

But the tiresome train journey from Colombo had demotivated me from returning home by train again, so I wondered what I could do. Then I had one of the best ideas I had ever had while traveling: I would go mountain hopping by bus. So I traveled from Ella to Bandarawela and found that it took only about 45 minutes. After walking around in Bandarawela, I took the bus to Welimada and from there I took the bus to Nuwara Eliya. It was unbelievable how flexible and fast buses are compared to trains and the scenery was incredible. From there I went to Peradeniya.

The Royal Botanical Gardens in Peradeniya is located near the Mahaweli River and is renowned for its collection of orchids. There were 4000 different species of plants here but I could only identify a dozen or so trees which was disappointing. Oh their name boards were displayed but for me they were meaningless. What I wanted was a deeper understanding. Though I was no good at it or maybe for this very reason, science has always fascinated me. I have an almost superstitious reverence for it. How in heavens did they send a rocket to Jupiter that revolved around the giant planet gaining enormous speed using the planet's own gravitational pull and was flung in a different direction to the furthest distances of space to study Neptune before leaving the solar system forever without even an astronaut aboard?

Getting back to trees, I’ve always been confused about the different types of plants. I knew vaguely a group called flowering plants, and a group that doesn’t flower like pines. But where do things like ferns and mosses fit in? Are algae plants? Without knowing these I’ve lived happily enough, but in the Peradeniya Botanical Gardens, they took a certain intriguing importance. So I decided to find out.

All plants can be divided into two groups: Vascular Plants and Non-vascular Plants. Non-vascular plants do not have true roots, leaves or stems. Their name stems from the fact that they do not contain water or nutrient-conducting vascular tissues like the xylem and phloem. Simple plants like Algae and Mosses fall into this category.

Vascular plants on the other hand could be a spore producer like Ferns or a seed producer, like most trees you see around you. Seed producers can be further divided into flowering plants (Angiosperms) and non-flowering plants (Gymnosperms). Cycads and conifers like pines and spruce are Gymnosperms. They together with ferns dominated the world during the age of the dinosaurs. There are only about 700 Gymnosperm species in existence today, but 250,000 species of Angiosperm. About130 million years ago during the Early Cretaceous, flowering plants appeared suddenly and in great diversity. From the little I know about these things it seems odd. But then we only have to see man's own progress to understand how. About 5300 years ago, people with primitive stone tools were stumbling confused upon the Earth. A few thousand years later they were on the moon. It seems this sort of thing happens all the time in the natural world.

A World Without Beetles

 

When I was a kid this village was filled with fireflies. Now there were hardly any. Actually, there seem to be much less insects now than there were a few decades ago. In just half a lifetime a lot seems to have changed. Maybe it was my imagination, so in one of my foolish ventures, I decided to find out more about insects.

Insects seem to be as different from human beings as it is possible to be. To begin with, they don’t have a heart, lungs, blood as we know it, a skeleton, or much of anything else. They are clearly built very differently. They have a tough exoskeleton and six legs and this seems to be their most prominent feature. They were the first creatures to fly. You don’t have to be an expert to realize that they took a very different evolutionary line very early on. But what they are is they are essential to all life on earth. They are the food for birds and fish, every terrestrial and freshwater ecosystem relies on them. Oddly out of the millions of different varieties of insects, only about a few hundred have taken to the sea. (The sea is dominated by other kinds of arthropods like crustaceans.) Even plants rely on insects for pollination. It seems that they are declining at an unprecedented rate that some scientists call the global Insect Apocalypse. But there are so many varieties of them that scientists don’t know exactly by how much. Some scientists estimate that they are disappearing at the rate of 2% per year. That is a lot in 20 years.

To begin with, bees are in peril, and so are another order of insects, butterflies and moths (order Lepidoptera), and beetles (Coleoptera), and freshwater insects like dragonflies and damselflies. Loss of habitat, insecticides, climate change, and pollution are thought to be the reasons. It is believed that if insects go so will their predators like many kinds of birds and fish and other animals further up the food chain. Many years ago a writer named George Orwell wrote, "By retaining one's childhood love of such things as trees, fishes, butterflies, and toads, one makes a peaceful and decent future a little more probable." A world without butterflies, dragonflies, beetles and many birds, fish and toads would be a sad world indeed.

Michael Faraday

 

Michael Faraday (1791-1867) was an English physicist and chemist. Faraday’s discovery of electromagnetic induction led to his invention of the electric motor and electric generator. His inventions laid the basis for much of the technology of the 20th century. In 1821 he had used a magnet and a wire containing an electric current to produce mechanical motion, thereby creating an electric motor. Ten years later Faraday reversed the process: using magnetism to produce an electric current, he invented the dynamo, or generator.

Faraday formulated the basic laws of electrolysis during his early work in chemistry. Ion, anode cathode and electrode are some of the chemical terms he introduced. In 1825 he became the first to liquefy gases under pressure. In 1845 he discovered the Faraday Effect of magnetism on polarized light. His later days were spent in formulating a general electromagnetic field theory, later completed by James Clerk Maxwell. The farad is named for him.

The son of a blacksmith in Newington, Surrey, Faraday received little formal schooling. He became interested in science while apprenticed to a London bookbinder. In 1813 he got a job as laboratory assistant to Sir Humphry Davy at the Royal Institution in London. Faraday became director of the laboratory in 1825 and professor of chemistry in 1833. He scorned wealth and worldly honors, refusing knighthood and the presidency of the Royal Society. While other men made money from his discoveries Faraday devoted himself exclusively to scientific research.

Frans Hals

Frans Hals (1580-1666) was a Dutch Painter. One of the masters of the 17th century, he is known for his brilliant single and group portraits. Hals excelled in portraying people in a happy mood. His paintings reflect the robust vitality of the prosperous Dutch middle class.

“The Laughing Cavalier” and “Balthasar Coymans” show his use of broad quick brush strokes to catch a momentary gesture and a fleeting expression. The naturalness and gaiety of “Banquets of the officers of Cloveniers-Doelen in Haarlem” are characteristic of much of his work. Hals used bright and vigorous colors in his early works. As he grew older he used more subdued and silvery tones. Many critics consider “Regents of the Old Men’s Home”, painted a few years before he died, to be his greatest work. Hals was born in Antwerp, but moved with his parents to Haarlem when still a child. Although Hals was a popular painter, he often had difficulty making a living. In his later years he was given a small pension by the City of Haarlem.

Oil Pastel

 

I drew this using oil pastel. Maybe the title of the drawing could be " Industrial Pollution of the Air, Land and Water". To the right of the road the water is black and green maybe indicating it has been polluted by the factories on the background. The water could be of a lake or maybe even the sea. Similarly to the left of the road the land seems polluted. The smoke from the factory chimneys could indicate air pollution.

Water Colour Painting

 

The Stars may not shine as brightly

 

The stars may not shine as brightly

And the moon may wander around

But time for you

Has not stopped

For I see you walking

On the beaches of my poems

Alone in an Island

Sailing on ships that have long stopped sailing

But if after reading this

Some other business intrudes

And my words are left to collect the dust

Let time not pass

Without a kind thought of your friend

RJX

Drawing 7

 

Poem

 

There among the stars they shine

Not in vain did they toil

On their shoulders we stood

To see further than we could

To see new horizons

To sail new seas

To walk on better beaches

To feel we were free

RJX

Portrait of the Sea

 

A WALK TO COLOMBO

 

Unfortunately just when my travels started to gain real momentum the covid 19 pandemic struck. We went through a series of strictly imposed lockdowns, that made travel impossible. However, during one of the brief interludes of the lockdown, I decided to walk somewhere, anywhere at all away, as far away from home as was possible to be. I had never been a great fan of walking, but the lockdown had made me a kind of aimless wanderer.

So I set out of my home and “discovered” for the first time that on both sides of the road were large kohomba (margosa) trees. From what I understand the margosa tree is one of the true shade trees that thrive even on the meekest trickle of groundwater so it is invaluable for those of us who can’t afford to air-condition. People in Sri Lanka, India, and Africa love it for this reason and its many medicinal and other uses. So it is surprising that it was declared a weed tree in northern parts of Australia in 2015. Introduced as a shade tree for cattle in the 1940s, it spread so quickly, that It is now illegal to buy, sell or transport plants or seeds. I have always wondered why this was, for as everyone knows nothing much grows in most parts of Australia except gum trees. Then I realized that in reality, many great trees grow in Australia, most of them endemic. An aunt of mine once visited Australia and she told the story of how she ventured into a wooded area (she was always venturing into wooded places) and found that there were countless Uguressa trees full of fruits. When she inquired from an Australian, she got the answer that it was not edible, and was in fact fit only for birds. Hey, we eat this fruit around here, it’s one of my favorite fruits.

Greatly troubled by this thought I moved on and entered a shop. It was a small model of a supermarket, with difficulty you could move about and pick what you want, but the suspicious salesgirl kept a close eye on you with a series of convex mirrors. Shops like this that pretend to be supermarkets have spread all around Sri Lanka in recent years, which I think is great. As I was eating the quickly melting ice cream without a mask, I came upon a picturesque lake that was lined by a long row of Kumbuk Trees (Terminalia arjuna). For me, the Kumbuk tree, with its shiny smooth bark and colorful leaves is one of the most pleasant trees that God has put upon this earth.

Then I looked at the lake, it was a large man-made lake, whose primary purpose seemed to be to collect the rainwater and wastewater of a thousand houses that had been built less than twenty years ago. In this short period, it had become a proper ecosystem in its own right. Cranes, herons, and a strange crow-like bird whose primary purpose of existence seemed to be to dry its feathers all its life made it a strange place to be. Which made me wonder what the difference was between a crane and a heron. A crane's neck is shorter than herons and cranes hold their necks straight, while herons typically curve their necks into an “S” shape, particularly in flight. It was also full of fish, though fishing wasn’t allowed. It seemed that even in a dry region if you dig a large hole deep enough and plant some trees around it, it will soon fill with rainwater, and if you put some fish, in no time it would be teeming with life.

At a distance, I could see cashew trees. The trees in this area seemed to do a weird thing. They spread so widely that they sagged down and were supported by the ground though still attached to the tree. Now isn’t that clever, no stilt roots or other complicated roots are needed. Entertained by this foolish thought I moved on.

I decided to walk all the way to Colombo but gave up halfway and got on a bus. I got down at Pettah. I decided to wander around Colombo as much as possible during weekends and write about this city for I found myself greatly attached to it. As everyone knows Colombo isn’t exactly New York, but it is a bustling, happy city where a lot of interesting things happen all the time. Its port is one of the busiest in Asia, and it really is a flourishing city, but what makes it interesting for me is that it is a city with many art-minded people. Some people accuse its artists of copying the West, and worse being decades behind the West but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

I am not an expert but as far as I am concerned the West has come to an artistic dead-end, where even the most idiotic paintings are called brilliant. Calling everything brilliant is the same as saying that nothing is. If you paint a red circle, on a black background and call it something like “The portrait of the artist's soul” it could be sold for millions of dollars if you could first get the artist to kill himself although, for most people, it looks like a traffic light. Or if you have a clever artist who can talk great things bordering on philosophy and psychology then that will sell for millions too. I am a great fan of surrealism and have great enthusiasm for this kind of thing but sometimes it makes me wonder what it is all about. If you put a small chair in an enormous room and call it minimalism for example it seems to be a very clever thing to do. If doing next to nothing seems to be the point why bother doing anything at all. But this problem is not found among artists in Colombo for they are busy drawing colorful complex paintings.

I am not trying to be professional, but for many years I have wondered what the answer was to the following question: WHAT MAKES A SUCCESSFUL ARTIST. (In an artistic sense, rather than a financial sense). I guess the simple answer is: If art makes the artist happy then he/she is a successful artist. But why I wondered were so many artists so unhappy? The answer is that art is such a thing that it makes most people prisoners of style and prisoners of their own success. In the music world, it is like being condemned to sing the same few songs again and again, because those songs were the ones that made someone famous. It took many years for me to realize this, but one day I realized that I was a prisoner of my own unfortunate painting and drawing style. But I want to change that and draw in different styles, mediums, and subjects each time I draw or paint. I think many artists are prisoners of their own technique and success, for almost all their paintings look alike.

But “WHAT MAKES A SUCCESSFUL ARTIST” in the financial sense. Artists, as everyone knows, have highs and lows (not substance-induced, but natural ups and downs of the creative process). When in a high an artist is capable of doing great work that could be sold, but when the artist hits a low which is almost all the time their paintings are uninspiring and can’t be sold. The aim of the artist if he/she wants financial success is to improve his technique to such an extent that he is able to paint great, inspiring paintings even when he hits a low and the only way the artist can achieve this is through constant practice.

After wandering through Galle face and kolpity, at last I came to Bambalapitiya where I visited the Majestic City, and decided to meet a godforsaken relative of mine. Godforsaken because although he is one of the cleverest people I have ever met, he said some of the biggest bullshit I have ever heard. It seemed like there was nothing he didn’t know and understand fully. I suspect he knew a great deal about human nature. He believed that a large number of people in the modern world had depression and it was his duty to advise them and treat them if possible. At that time I had a lot of problems in life and was really feeling down.

Perhaps sensing this he said a strange thing. He said that a cure for unhappiness could only be found if we know the definition of “Happiness”. Happiness, he said is really a “sense of improvement” which many sad people seemed to lack. But by adopting a “philosophy of improvement” that is by making “small conscious improvements every little while” they could find true happiness. He said “When you walk into a room, by the time you walk out, make sure either you improve or someone in the room improves with your knowledge, or something in the room improves, when you walk into a garden make sure you plant a tree, or at least water the plants. I thought this theory was a joke, but in some way, it also fascinated me.

So when I returned home, decided to try out his weird theory more as a joke than anything else. I made small, ridiculous improvements every little while and found a strange kind of happiness, a kind of job satisfaction that seemed to increase every time I did something. It’s incredible how much progress you can make if you follow this seemingly idiotic theory. Every time I walked into a place I made a conscious effort to improve something in a small way before walking out. At that time I did not have a job, so I took small steps like learning new skills, improving my CV etc, and found many opportunities coming my way. Things started improving around me, things in my room seemed neat and tidy, I had a small but flourishing vegetable garden, I had made new friends, and new opportunities came to me more than ever before, it was unbelievable really. I really believe that this method works and should be followed by anyone having a bad turn in life.

Excerpt from my Travel Memoir

The road south from Colombo can be a bit confusing, somehow even if you scan the map for a long time it doesn’t register. From Colombo to Moratuwa is only 19 Km. From there you expect Kalutara to come quickly but it takes longer than you think for it is about 26 Km further south. In Kalutara is the famous Buddhist temple. You expect Beruwela with its beautiful seascape to be very far from here but it comes surprisingly quickly being just 14 Km south. By this time the landscape has a very rural seaside feel. Happily, Bentota with its beautiful beaches, river, and hotels is just 8 Km South. Then here the distances seem to widen. From Bentota to Ambalangoda is 24 Km, somehow it seems longer than that. Hikkaduwa, a tourist destination known for coral reefs and sea turtles is 15 Km further south. By this time even without noticing we have come 114 Km from Colombo. Till Hikkaduwa, the coast that runs more or less south seems to curve a little more prominently till it reaches the Historic fort city of Galle. The coast continues to curve until it reaches the southernmost city in Sri Lanka – Matara. Then it moves upward reaching Tangalle and Hambantota, Kirinda, Kumana, Okanda and then almost vertically up to Potuvil, Tirrukkovil and Batticaloa. Very rarely if ever have I heard some of these place names in the news so I tried to find out. Kumana is a bird sanctuary, Okanda is a small hamlet on the eastern coast of Sri Lanka, within the Ampara district.

In Sri Lanka most of the main cities and towns in the coastal region are quite well known, some parts of the central highlands are well travelled, Anradhapura and Pollonaruwa being historical cities are well known, but some Kilometers inland from the coast there are some obscure areas that hardly come to mind, except for the people who live there. I wondered if we travelled perpendicular to the coast in the above route I mentioned from Colombo to Batticaloa what obscure areas will we discover. And then I looked at the map, what a fool I had been, for this is exactly where they have built the new southern expressway. Travelling in the southern expressway you find that the landscape is mostly fields and jungles with very few buildings.

Somewhere between Beruwela and Hikkaduwa I had an incredible experience, a kind of perfect moment that comes very rarely in life. I got down from the bus shocked by the color of the sea. It was around midday, and the sun shone brightly overhead. The color of the sea was a shockingly bright turquoise blue and it was glistening and I was alone on an enormous beach. A song started playing on my mind: We’ll sing in the sunshine….We’ll laugh every day…..We’ll sing in the sunshine ……then I’ll be on my way. Some HAPPY sounding songs are actually depressing….and some sad sounding songs are Happy…..But this was a Happy sounding Happy song at least for me despite its silly rhyming lyrics.

There are some places with beautiful scenery that ought to make you happy…but make you sad….similarly there are some really ugly landscapes that fill you with joy…..Well, this was a Happy-looking place that actually made you happy. I walked on the beach, I climbed the rocks, it was for me the most perfect spot on earth. After about an hour it was time to be on my way. I wondered whether if I came another day at the exact same time I would find the sea the same glistening turquoise blue and the beach deserted. I came again a few times but could not locate the beach again. As the actor, Leonard Nimoy (Mr. Spock in Star Trek) said in his last message “A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory.”

Excerpt from my Travel Book

 

Because I had gone to Nuwara Eliya in November, I found it was off-season and intensely cold. After tea I went to a hotel. The owner was inquisitive to know why I was traveling and I explained my philosophy of travel. I said I was traveling all around the country using only public transport and I wanted to draw or paint everything I came across. He looked at me like I was from another planet.

But the great train journey uphill had aroused my interest in Surrealism so I started to draw my first surrealist drawing. Surrealism is an odd thing. Everyone accepts that something illogical has no value, but the objective of this Surrealist movement is exactly this – to create unnerving, illogical scenes with the objective of freeing the unconscious. Nothing less. Amazed by what I saw in the hill country, I drew a landscape following the strange theories of the Surrealists. It was an enthralling experience. In an attempt to draw realistic and impressive drawings and avoid mistakes, the artist sometimes loses the thrill of drawing and painting...His output drops...But in this new Surrealist method I invented, mistakes are modified or left as they are to make the drawing more energetic. The artist finds the true purpose of art - to express oneself and be happy...I felt incredibly proud of my first Surrealist drawing, it really had freed, if not my unconscious, at least some of my creativity. So I took my drawing to show the owner, and all he could say was, “What the hell is this?” Damned if I knew.

But that was nothing compared to my experiences in selling drawings. Many years ago, I came up with a novel way of drawing. For me Art has always been synonymous with magic, so one day I wondered whether there was some theory that, when applied, would lead to interesting paintings or drawings. Unfortunately there seemed to be no such theory, for some reason some paintings are pleasing while others fail to satisfy the mind. But I didn’t want to give up so easily. So I analyzed the paintings of famous artists and found that the most interesting paintings had an element of crudeness in them. Take Vincent Van Gogh’s “The Church at Auvers” for example, the whole building is crooked and the colors unnatural. But what would have happened if he painted it straight using natural colors, then it would be like a million other architectural drawings, competent but boring. This was good news for me because I was one of those people in this world who is too lazy or too incompetent to draw buildings perfectly. I felt that the real secret behind a really good painting was a certain crudeness mingled cleverly with a really impressive element. The impressive element makes the painting realistic, while the crudeness energizes the painting or drawing making the whole painting interesting.

I used this theory to paint and came up with some eerie paintings. Part of my technique involved random squiggles, particularly for the sky, which I called energy lines. Apart from the energy they added they helped balance the composition which I think is crucial in any drawing. The next step was to find someone to sell it to. At that time, I was attending a tuition class to pass an exam, but the people there were not the kind who would buy a drawing. But there was a certain intelligent person who took the trouble to have creative conversations with me. She was much older than the others, and said she also had a law degree, and had an intellectual air to her, which made her an ideal candidate to sell my drawing to. So I talked about the subject and showed her the drawing, hoping to charge only a small amount because it was my first sale. She was immediately repulsed. She took the drawing and turned it sideways and then upside down and looked at me in a weird way that some people reserve for particularly stupid people. I was shocked, why I wondered was she turning it upside down, after all it was one of my best landscape drawings with energy lines for the sky. Then she said "I don't know whether it is upside down or not, but after framing it make sure you display it the wrong way to the wall so nobody can see it. The next day when I came to class, I could see other people looking at me in a strange way and knew that she mentioned the incident to others. All the drawing contained was bloody buildings and energy lines. I decided never to try to sell a drawing again.

But then another person approached me and asked me whether I did artwork. I reluctantly said yes. He wanted me to paint a landscape with trees and sunlight, for which he will pay me. I agreed and did an acrylic painting on canvas and sold it to him for a big loss (25 percent of material cost) because I was eager to make a name to start selling. He paid me readily enough and took it home. But three days later he bought it back and wanted his money back. He said the painting (of sunlight, mist and trees), was not clear enough (Pehidily madi). I never tried to sell a painting again.

Short Story

During World War II my grandfather had been stationed as an officer in the then British colony of Ceylon. It would have made a great impression on him for he spoke about it for fifteen years when I was growing up. Great stories of holy mountains, rock fortresses, and ancient kingdoms with the most advanced irrigation systems in the world. For many years I thought he was making most of it up, but it intrigued me. So one day I finally decided to visit the Island to find out if he was telling the truth.

The Airport is about 30 Kilometers from the capital Colombo. Colombo borders the sea and its port is one of the busiest in Asia. In the lower central part of the country, there is a mountainous area where tea is grown so abundantly that it looks more like a picturesque painting than an actual mountain. There really is a holy mountain here called Sri Pada which is said to be the holiest mountain in the world. And the Sigiriya Rock fortress built in the 5th century is one of the marvels of the ancient world. And the great Tank Civilization of ancient Sri Lanka is still being used today to irrigate. I was amazed to find out everything my Grandfather said was true, this really is a great Island.

But the most interesting aspect of this island is the people. Although I do not have a degree in psychology I have a strange habit of analyzing the people in every country I go to, so I would do the same here. Sri Lankans in general are very friendly and very intelligent. But for an intelligent people they do not think deeply about some things that trouble at least a small minority in some other counties, like for example: how was the universe created? Are there things smaller than atoms? Are we related to monkeys? This kind of thinking is absent even among highly educated scientists who are qualified to answer these questions. But even here there is an extremely small minority of people who think of such things, but unfortunately, they are so rare that you could spend an entire lifetime without meeting one.

But I did meet such a person on the island and he was the clerk in the hotel. “Aren’t you Carl Saban the famous American astronomer, and the world authority on supernovas?” said he. “Yes,” said I a little surprised that someone here knew me. “I’ve been reading the articles you write, they are interesting and I have used your observations to verify my theories, theories that I think solve all the problems of the universe, including how it was created, and I have written it down in this book, it would only take a few minutes to read, can you tell me whether it is correct,” said he. He took out of his pocket a much-crumbled book that looked like it had been slept on. For a moment I could not decide whether he was just joking or completely mad, but he thrust the book at me so fervently that I reluctantly took it.

I present below just the first two pages of his book, exactly as he wrote it without any modification by me:

Everything is made up of atoms, but atoms themselves are made up of even smaller particles. Even though our senses fool us we and everything around us are energy fields. The movement of these tiny energy particles moves electrons, atoms, aero-planes, stars, galaxies and everything else in the universe. These tiny particles and their ability to move are the only reality in the universe and other things such as Time or Space are not real and are how the mind perceives the movement of these particles.

According to this theory, there is nothing called space, three-dimensional or otherwise, for when these particles move, as they always do it creates this illusion in our senses. There is nothing to fill, for there is nothing else. Similarly, there is no dimension called Time, this is what the mind perceives when these particles move, but it isn't real, for there isn't anything separate called Time. If there is nothing called Time then the universe could not have been created at a particular point in time in the past, this solves the mystery of creation. These particles would have always been and will always be.

So how does this explain Singularity, or what is popularly known as the Big Bang? If matter were to lose its ability to move, it would converge to a point infinitely small, but soon the deep tendency to move would lead it to expand outward, which would eventually form Stars, planets, Galaxies and everything else that is in the Universe. How does this explain Gravitation? It has been found that when a sub-atomic particle was moved another particle that was seven miles away moved in exactly the same way, and it has been estimated that however far these particles are separated they would move exactly in the same way. This is strange for nothing moves faster than the speed of Light. This twin movement could be used to explain Gravitation, for if a particle were to move, its twin particle would move towards it.

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The rest of the book contains calculations to prove this theory, which I can’t fully understand, but which seem profound all the same. Can somebody tell me by reading this book whether this young man in Sri Lanka is, in fact a great scientist or a little wrong in the head?

James Fenimore Cooper

 

James Fenimore Cooper (1789-1851), was a United States author. He is Chiefly remembered for his Leatherstocking series of novels about Indians and frontiersmen, but he also wrote tales of the sea and other books. Cooper was the first American author to win wide popularity in Europe. He did more than any other writer to create the theme of the crafty but noble Redskin pitted against the equally resourceful woodsman.

Mark Twain and others ridiculed Cooper for his impossibly wooden heroines, his unreal dialogue and plots involving miraculous escapes from dangerous situations. Much of the criticism is justified, but Coopers skill in weaving an exciting tale and picturing a romantic woodland background has helped his books remain popular.

Cooper was born in Burlington, New Jersey, the second youngest in a Quaker family of 12. When he was one year old, the family moved to the shore of the Otsego Lake in western New York. There his father founded the village of Cooperstown. Young Cooper soon became acquainted with the Indians and the forests of the region. He entered Yale College at 13, but was dismissed in his third year for playing a prank. He went to sea as a common sailor in 1806, and in 1808 he received a commission as midshipman in the navy.

His dissatisfaction with an English novel provoked him to say he could write a better one. Precaution (1820), an imitative society novel, was the result of his wife’s demand for proof. It was unsuccessful. In 1821 Cooper published The Spy at his own expense. This romance of the American Revolution made him famous on both sides of the Atlantic and caused him to be called the equal of Sir Walter Scott as a historical novelist.

Edgar Allan Poe

 

Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), was an American short-story writer, poet, critic, and editor. There has always been disagreement as to the quality of his work, and some of the events of his life. However, even those critics who do not consider him a great writer acknowledge his importance in the development of modern literature.

Poe's most popular stories are those of horror, such as "The Fall of the House of Usher" and "The Black Cat," and of detection, such as "The Gold Bug" and "The Murders in Rue Morgue." Among his well-known lyrical poems are the haunting "Ulalume," "The Raven," and "Annabel Lee," and the classically restrained "To Helen." Poe was one of the most brilliant and independent 19th-century literary critics. His emphasis on artistic rather than moral values in literature greatly influenced modern literary theory and practice. His stressing of poetry's musical elements, and his use of evocative and symbolic language and imagery, contributed to the rise of the French Symbolist movement in poetry and, through it, to various 20th-century trends in poetry.

Poe was the first to formulate rules for the short story, and the principles of brevity and unity that he advocated have influenced short-story writing in the present time. He is credited with inventing the modern detective story and bringing the Gothic horror tale to a high level of development. He enriched both types of stories with psychological insight. Poe's preoccupation with madness, death, and the supernatural, and his denial of the importance of moral values in literature, were bitterly criticized during his lifetime and for some years afterward. More valid from a literary standpoint was the objection - still made by many critics - that some of his works are too contrived.

Edgar Poe was born in Boston, the second of the three children of Davis and Elizabeth Poe, traveling actors. When Edgar was two years old his mother died in Richmond, Virginia; their father had previously deserted the family. Egar was taken into the home of John Allan, a merchant, from whom the boy took his middle name. The Allan's lived in England from 1815 to 1820, where Edgar attended private schools. He later attended a Richmond academy. Poe entered the University of Virginia in1826, but at the end of the year, Allan withdrew him because Poe had run up large gambling debts. After a quarrel with his foster father, Poe went to Boston in 1827. There he published anonymously his first volume of poetry, Tamerlane and Other Poems. He enlisted in the army and served for two years. In 1829 he published his second book of poems. The same year his foster mother died and Poe became briefly reconciled with his foster father, who got him an appointment to the U.S. Military Academy in 1830. Poe cut classes and drills and was expelled from the Academy early in 1831. His break with Allan was final.

In 1831 Poe lived in New York City for a short while and published Poems. It contained many of his best poems, including "To Helen," "The City and the Sea," and "Israfel." Poe then went to live with his aunt Mrs. Maria Clemm in Baltimore. He turned to the writing of fiction and did not publish another book of poetry for 14 years. In 1833 he won a prize for the story "Manuscript Found in a Bottle." Poe went back to Richmond in 1835 and joined the staff of the Sothern Literary Messenger, soon becoming its editor. Poe won wide attention for his critical reviews in the Messenger.

In 1837 Poe moved to New York, but unable to find work there, moved again to Philadelphia, where he became editor of Burton's Gentleman's Magazine (1839-40). Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque were published in 1840 and favorably reviewed. Poe was the literary editor of Graham's Magazine for a few months in 1841 and in it began to publish detective stories. Poe won another prize with "The Gold Bug" (1843), which became his most popular story during his lifetime. He returned to New York and became assistant editor of the Mirror. The publication of The Raven and Other Poems in 1845 brought him increased fame. For a few months, he was the owner of the Broadway Journal, but the periodical failed.

Poe's wife died of tuberculosis in 1847, and he became depressed and ill. He became emotionally involved with two women and attempted suicide. During his last years, however, he wrote some of his best poems and critical essays. He also published Eureka (1848), a philosophical work. Poe became engaged to a childhood sweetheart in Richmond in 1849. He then went to Baltimore to bring his aunt back for the wedding. A few days later he was found fatally ill in a tavern in Baltimore. The legend that Poe was an opium addict and wastrel is contradicted by the facts of his predominantly quiet and hard-working life. He was an alcoholic, but his claim that he drank to alleviate periods of intense depression was partly upheld by physicians who examined him and said he had a brain lesion. In 1910 Poe was elected to the Hall of Fame for Great Americans.

Sri Lanka - Oil Pastel and Water Colour

 

Factory at Sunset - Oil Pastel

 

The Sea

 

The sea has its secrets
It never told me what
But when the waves broke ashore
I guessed what it was

For in the gleaming water
Swim creatures great and small
Life's deep blue ocean
The secret is out

RJX

Pen on paper

 

The Lightning Machine

 

My paternal uncle (father's brother), was once a world-famous scientist and inventor, but now nobody took him seriously. For all his brilliance if two words could be used to describe him they would be Extremely Eccentric. He had the strange habit of suddenly asking a physics question in the middle of a normal conversation and you were liable to get scolded if you did not give a satisfactory answer. For this reason some people including many of his former colleagues avoided him. Some said it was old age encroaching, some said it was an illness of the mind caused by chemical experiments when he was younger.

But apart from this eccentricity he was a kind and friendly man and as much as I avoided him I could not help feeling guilty so one day I went and met him. "Oh there you are at last, you numbskull, you have been avoiding me for one month" said he. "I had my exams, but it was all in vain for they asked questions from just the part of the syllabus that I avoided" said I. "Serves you right, now tell me how the Universe was created" said he. "Well according to the Big Bang theory it all started as an infinitely small primeval atom, and it expanded to form the stars, planets, galaxies and everything else in the universe. But what the theory does not explain is how the primeval atom came to be in the first place and what was there before that" said I

"That’s right, it doesn't explain it, but I found the answer for that too, though it is a secret and I don't want to tell it to you right now. But I have something interesting to show you look out of the window" said he. Outside was an enormous metal tower, and a field of what looked like huge batteries. "The world is facing an energy crisis, economies have fallen because of it and it is only going to get worse, but I solved that problem through this invention. Look what happens when I press this switch" said he. As he pressed the switch there was a crackling sound and within minutes dark clouds appeared over the tower. Soon it turned into a terrible thunderstorm. "You see Thomas this tower has a charge that attracts lightning, which leads to a chain reaction that causes thunderstorms" said he. Soon lightning discharged in the tower almost continuously making an ear splitting noise. "Cant you see what's happening Thomas, I am converting the static charge in the lightning into chemical energy in the field batteries which is then used to make an electric current that could be used by people” said he.

Two weeks later I returned and to my utter dismay he asked “What do you know of the theory of relativity”. “Well uncle according to it time is relative and not absolute. The faster you move the slower time passes for you. As you approach the speed of light Time stops” said I. “But what has the speed of light to do with time, you pinhead” said he. “I do not know though I have often wondered” said I. “No you idiot, Light and other electromagnetic waves move at the speed of light and even in a stationery object the small particles that make it move at the speed of light. But when the whole object moves the need to move is compensated so the small particles that make up the object move correspondingly slower making it look like time moves slower for it. But when I tell this theory to other scientists they call me a nut” said he.

“But uncle don’t worry about it, for your lightning machine will make you famous, nobody ever figured out the way to make electricity from lightning,” said I. My uncle’s face darkened as I said this and he said “That’s where the problem is Thomas, I can’t present my invention to the world for it would be misused. Imagine what a superpower could do if it got its hand on my invention. It could even be used as a weapon. I don't want my invention to be used to kill people, So I decided to destroy it, in fact I already have” said he. My uncle died two months later, I think of a broken heart because he had to destroy his precious invention. I do not know if his theory of the universe was correct but I know that he was the greatest scientist nobody ever talked about.

RJX

If you make a friend of time

If you make a friend of time

It wouldn't matter that you have no dime

For waves that break in the mangrove beach

Will pull your ship from that sinking reef

If the lighthouse is afar

And a misty fog blocks the North star

Follow the seagulls to the left

Or north or south whichever is best

A starfish near the beach

May swim away beyond your reach

But a crab that moves sideways

May even wish you better days

An oyster that pricks your feet

Could have a pearl on some distant beach

A raft that is blown to sea

Will reach the Island of Serendib

RJX