Danny and the Sword Swallower

Part - I

"Let me tell you a story", the man announced to some,
He had had a bottle of whiskey, and a pint or two of rum.
"Its about a man called Danny, a weird guy he was,
Some say he was a drunkard, I'd say, a lost cause"

One night he was forcibly taken, by his lovely bride to be,
To what some call a 'Magic Show', he just didn't want to see.
On the stage he saw the man, who people said had vanished,
But Danny, my friends, a fool he was, he couldn't be less astonished

"Excuse me", he said, after bearing enough, "I must go out to get,
Some chips for you, a beer for me, and a lovely cigarette."
He ruffled his way through the crowd, he couldn't wait any longer,
He hadn't had any booze since five, his urge to drink got stronger.

Thanking his god for letting him out, he crossed the street pumped up,
He looked to his left, he looked to his right, he just couldn't find a pub.
At last, when he had walked a mile, down on the empty street,
He ran into a man who sold, cigarettes and chips to eat.

Just as he was about to reach, back to the overrated tricks,
He found himself glancing a man, playing with swords and bricks.
"Hello there!", he said to the man with swords, "What brings you here this late?
Performing your art in solitude, beneath this lofty gate"

Absorbed in his act, the man with swords, was searching time for words,
Just so the juggling swords won't fall, or hurt some flying birds.
All Impressed, Danny had swore, to give the guy some change,
And then the man, put down his swords, few words were due exchange.

Part - II

Hello, sir, I am Theodore, some people call me Ted.
And I am just a man who does, all this to earn some bread.
I juggle swords, I balance bricks, some eggs I try to float,
But best of all is the act in which a sword goes down my throat.

And just like that, Danny and Ted, began a lovely talk,
Both enjoyed a cigarette, and had a moonlit walk.
They talked of love, they talked of hate, they talked of times that went,
they talked of peace, they talked of war, how life was different.

"I know there's god" the poor main said, "The one who made us all"
"I trust in him, I worship him, he will not let us fall"
All these words, when Danny heard, were like a clichéd song,
He thought to himself, this man needs help, he couldn't be more wrong.

"There is no thing like god, my friend", he said in a patient tone,
"God is just for those who think they can't rise up alone.
There are, agreed, some men who think, they were sent here by god,
But that is just, trust me on this, one deeply ugly fraud.

Listening to this, our poor old ted, just smiled at Danny's face.
"I wasn't talking of that, it is, indeed a big disgrace"
I wasn't speaking of god. the way, we men believe he'd be
I just think of him in a way which not many men can see.

I don't pray to any idols, neither to godly stones,
Nor any ritual I believe in, involving flesh and bones.
God, I think, is in this holy temple, like nothing of its kind.
'Cause this place I talk of,dear Danny, is nothing but one's mind.

We waste our time, thanking 'our' gods, for food and blood and vein,
But god is just a notion created to explain what you can't explain.
The real god, the one inside, is what helps us to do,
the thing that's right, no matter what, will end up happening to you.

Strange Numbers!

People say that out of the four basic mathamatical operations, the one which they like the most is addition. And they have an obvious explanation behind their choice, it is the easiest. But if you ask me, my favourite is Division. It is not because I find it easy. In fact, I find it to be the toughest to perform with a pen and a paper. The reason this one attracts me is how mysteriously harmonic all the results are. Here's an interesting observation I made the other day while performing a calculation:

Let me first begin by explaining how division actually works, for those of you who don't know. The basic definition of division, as we all learnt in the third grade, is 'Repeated Subtraction'. The number of times you have to subtract to get a zero, becomes the quotient. Let us say we have to divide 15 by 5. We subtract 5 from 15 once, it becomes 10. Subtract 5 once more, it becomes 5. Subtract 5 the third time, it becomes 0(zero). Hence, 15 divided by 5 equals 3. This was a case of perfect division(I don't really know the technical term to be used over here, but I'm sure you understand what I mean!). Let us now consider a different case. Let's say we have to divide 20 by 8. We first subtract 8 from 20 to get a 12, subtract once more, we get 4. No more subtraction is possible without going into negative numbers. Hence, the quotient in this case is 2, and the remainder is 4. Now, to get the exact value of 20 divided by 8, we divide the remainder by 8 as well. 4 divided by 8 can be reduced to 1 divided by 2, which we all know equals 0.5. Hence the exact value of 20 divided by 8 is 2 + 0.5 = 2.5.This can also be understood by splitting 20 into two parts, 16 and 4. 16 divided by 8 is 2, and 4 divided by 8 is 0.5. Hence 20 divided by 8 is 2.5.

We're now ready to observe a really interesting fact about numbers.

Note: Division by any of the numbers used here produces a recurring and infinite series of digits after the decimal. The given values repeat themselves after the last digit.

If you divide any number by 7, there can only be six possible remainders, excluding zero. Have a look at what their values in decimals are:

1/7 = 0.142857142857
2/7 = 0.285714285714
3/7 = 0.428571428571
4/7 = 0.571428571428
5/7 = 0.714285714285
6/7 = 0.857142857142

Did you notice any pattern? Yes, the digits '142857' keep repeating themselves in each of the divisions. Just the starting point is different for each one of them. Strange?

Let us try it again with 13!

1/13  = 0.076923076923
2/13  = 0.153846153846
3/13  = 0.230769230769
4/13  = 0.307692307692
5/13  = 0.384615384615
6/13  = 0.461538461538
7/13  = 0.538461538461
8/13  = 0.615384615384
9/13  = 0.692307692307
10/13 = 0.769230769230
11/13 = 0.846153846153
12/13 = 0.923076923076

If you're not a keen observer, you would say that the numbers don't follow any particular pattern over here. But look closely. For the numerators 1,3,4,9,10 and 12, the digits obey the following sequence of numbers '076923'. For the numerators 2,5,6,7,8 and 11, they obey '153846'. Why?

If you do it with 17, ALL the numbers obey the following 16-digit pattern '0588235294117647'.

What makes these numbers so disciplined?

How probable is it that you multiply a number (1/17) with another number, the digits simply re-arrange themselves? Multiply the first number with another number, the  digits rearrange themselves once again. This happens not once, not twice, but SIXTEEN times in the case of the number 17.

Why do 7 and 17 have 6 and 16-digit patterns respectively, while 13 has two 6-digit patterns?
(7 - 1 = 6, 17 - 1 = 16, 13 - 1 = 12 = 6 * 2)

Why do the numbers 9 and 11 have only 1 and 2-digit, fairly simple patterns? (Check them out on a calculator)

What differentiates numbers 1,3,4,9,10 and 12 from the numbers 2,5,6,7,8 and 11, in the pattern for the number 13?

If you have the answer to any of the above questions, do leave a comment on this blog post with your name and e-mail address.

Thank you for sparing your time.

Note: If there is number incorrectly typed in, do let me know! And rest assured, its just a typing error. I've double checked all the numbers on my calculator. Some of you may not like the fact that I spent so much time on this during my board exams, but really, I think its worth it. Plus, I really couldn't wait another month to write this. =)

The Conjurer

There was once a dwarf, few inches tall,

From town to town he flew.
In search of a man who fancied much,
What the dwarf had learnt to do.

He had a broom that he travelled on,
And a book of spells, his guide,
And wisdom which none percieved as good
But to convince, he always tried.

He called the crowds on streets each time,
To explain the rite, then perform.
But it scared them off to no end, each time,
Just before he was about to perform.

Upset and alone he sat on the streets,
In his hand, a half-burnt cigar.
And then a yeoman came up to him,
"Are you the dwarf I'm looking for?".

Dead on his feet, the worn out yeoman,
Began explaining his need.
Excited the dwarf who had never performed,
Was about to perform his deed.

Together they went to the yeoman's old farm,
The place where it was to be done,
And together waited for nightfall, for it,
Could not be done under the sun.

"Get me some leaves, some twigs, some ice,
A pot to hold them all,
While I'll rehearse my spells a bit,
Quick, don't wait for nightfall."

At last the time had come, the dwarf,
Was about to summon a ghost.
While standing beside him, scared, yet alert,
Was his spellbound yeoman host.

In front of the crops, he stirred the things,
As he chanted his spells out loud.
And in the sky there was thunder and lightning,
And rain from a single cloud.

"That's him!", the dwarf announced with authority,
"Coming towards us both.
Prepare yourself, as it was you,
Who ordered to summon the ghost".