An 18 hour tryst with the Man Who Knew Infinity

There are few whereabouts which offer the sanctity required for an immersive book reading experience. A long flight journey, devoid of all external disturbances apart from the occasional turbulence, is certainly one of them. The book partaking my journey was Robert Kanigel's : The Man Who Knew Infinity, a biography of one of the world's greatest mathematicians - Srinivasa Ramanujan Iyengar, and I must say, it was both enriching and enlightening.

While it would be frivolous for me to comment on his achievements and contribution to mathematics, reading the book struck a personal chord, and I felt a sense of pride and awe, not only as an Indian, but in the common traits, roots and the places I shared with the great man. And it is this experience, I will attempt to expound on as I narrate his story, accompanied with my limited understanding of his profound genius.

Genius.

A term so easily used, nowadays, that we no longer associate it with an aura meant for the person described as such. And yet, even in it's highest form, it seems too less of an accolade for Srinivasa Ramanujan.

Early struggles

Ramanujan's formative years, are as fascinating as his peak ones spent in Trinity College, Cambridge. Born into an orthodox South Indian Vasihnavite Brahmin family, he grew up in his native Kumbakonam, had excelled at school (Town High School) and failed miserably in college, both at Government College and Pachiappas College, Madras, owing to his obsession with mathematics and scant regard for other subjects.

It is imperative to note that Ramanujan was very devout. He was fastidious in following the dos and don'ts of a Brahmin life and took pride in them. He attributed his mathematical abilities to his family diety, the goddess Namagiri of Namakkal. He once remarked to a friend - "An equation has no meaning for me unless it expresses a thought of God".

After a tumultuous few years, during which he was married to Janaki, 9, ten years younger than him, this dropout from two colleges went around Madras with his now famous "notebooks", trying to find a job and firmly believing in his mathematical prowess to help sustain his family. These notebooks were Ramanujan's prized possessions, and the ones in which he crammed hundreds of mathematical equations and theorems. A century later, they continue to mesmerize mathematicians and enthusiasts around the world.

Ramanujan met various eminent mathematicians of that time, who, while not dismissive of his talent, struggled to come to terms with their own opinions on whether the man was indeed a genius or just another eccentric individual.

After a circuitous turn of events, Ramanujan connected with the right individuals, by good fortune more than anything else, and eventually searched for patrons in Great Britain, who he hoped would recognize his work for what it's worth. And it is here, by another stroke of luck, that he found his mentor and friend G.H.Hardy.

Productive years and international recognition

We are introduced to a contrasting lifestyle and way of life, as we get familiar with G.H.Hardy. A Fellow of Royal Society and Trinity College, Hardy was one of the pioneers of promoting "rigour" mathematics, which focuses on proofs of equations and theorems, in Great Britain. It is safe to assume, he was one of the great mathematical minds of the time, and had no reason to regard a letter full of equations by "an Indian Clerk". 

Still, Ramanujan's letter to Hardy bedazzled him, as he later remarked, that his theorems "defeated me completely; I had never seen anything in the least like them before" and that the author must be "a mathematician of the highest quality, a man of altogether exceptional originality and power."

This, was the turning point in Ramanujan's life. The resounding stamp of authority of his credentials from Britain's leading mathematician put to rest any doubts of his abilities and exalted him to celebrity status back home.  Few more letters and persuasion from Hardy led Ramanujan to break free from the mores of his Brahmin upbringing and journey to England in the month of March, 1914 paving the way for his famous partnership with Hardy which came to fruition in the next four years.

This brings us to an interesting question. What were Ramanujan's major areas of contribution to mathematics? When we think of Newton, Einstein, Darwin or Mendeleev, the words gravity, relativity, evolution and periodic table come to mind. However, Ramanujan's work isn't easily recognizable, apart from his magic squares and the Hardy-Ramanujan number. 

His work was primarily on infinite series, continued fractions and number theory. Hardy and him extensively worked on studying the partition function (computing number of partitions of an integer) and he also discovered mock theta functions shortly before his death. His work has spurned mathematicians of later generations and have spawned research fields of their own. That so little is known of his work, is a given, considering the advanced areas he dealt with, which one doesn't usually encounter in high school. 

Ramanujan and Hardy went on to publish many papers, making many significant breakthroughs in the process. Ramanujan finally enjoyed the full use of his intellectual abilities in an environment carefully moulded by Hardy, to extract his full potential. But he wasn't always right, and the lack of formal education and access to European resources during his early life, affected Ramanujan's ability to see beyond some of his assumptions. He had an astounding intuition to conjure new theorems, but was more analytical than proof oriented. Hardy was instrumental in helping him overcome the gaps in his learning and embrace the "rigour" approach, while taking care to ensure his sensitivities weren't affected.

While all was well on the mathematics front, problems creeped in personal matters. His relationship with his family back home strained, as he discontinued writing letters to them, owing to a lack of response from his wife (whose letters were intercepted by his mother).

Continuing with his strict vegetarianism in cold and unforgiving Britain he found it increasingly difficult to fend for himself. The onset of World War I didn't help matters either as the atmosphere turned hostile around England and it being increasingly difficult to get basic supplies like bread and fish; How was Ramanujan to get his speciality foods in such a situation?

A continual neglect of his body and health, and his rigidness in refusing to change his diet finally caught up with Ramanujan, as he was diagnosed with Tuberculosis, ultimately proving to be fatal, in early 1917.

Death and Legacy

Moving across sanatoriums in England  for treatment while remaining steadfast in his dietary choices, Ramanujan's name was put up for election for Fellow of Trinity College, but, in spite of his stupendous achievements, he wasn't elected. 

Apart from internal politics at Trinity at that time, the prevailing racism among the English elite to have a "black man" as a fellow played a key role in his rejection. This further fueled his depression, and led him to even attempt suicide, by throwing himself onto a railway track in London Underground (he was miraculously saved after a guard brought the train to a halt). 

Undeterred by the Trinity rebuff, and with a sense of urgency, owing to Ramanujan's deteriorating health, Hardy and few other mathematicians signed him up for an even bigger honor - to elect Ramanujan as a Fellow of Royal Society, Britain's most eminent scientific body.

Hardy's magnanimity comes to the fore again here. His strongly worded letter, urging the committee to consider Ramanujan, as it would make "him feel a success" and they might not have another chance to award him, undeniably, played a key role in Ramanujan's subsequent election to the Royal Society in early 1917.

While the scale of his contributions were immense, being elected as a F.R.S was a phenomenal boost to his morale, as he lacked even a college degree. A subsequent election as Fellow of Trinity College followed, and Ramanujan's legacy was given an official standing. 

At Srinivasa Ramanujan's childhood home,
Sarangapani Sannathi Street, Kumbakonam

Unfortunately, his joy was short lived. Ramanujan was sent back to India as soon as the war ended, and moved around different homes in Kumbakonam and Madras, before reaching his final resting place in Chetput. He was aware of his imminent death and even told his doctors he had lost the will to live. He was accompanied by his wife and mother, and continued to work on mathematics till his last breath. He died at the age of 32, on April 26, 1920.

Years later, his work is being applied in fields scarcely known during his day and age - String Theory, Cancer research, Computer Algorithms and so forth.

I had the opportunity to visit Kumbakonam recently, and made it a point to visit the childhood home of the great man. It was one of the most satisfying experiences to walk around the house
of his humble beginnings.

Things to ponder

Ramanujan's story can be construed to obtain many conclusions, but is generally, one of inspiration and hope, when we take a cursory look at it. But, as the author too ponders, are we, as a society, any better now, than we were during his time?

How good is our educational system in identifying real geniuses? If not for Hardy, Ramanujan's contributions might have never seen the light of day. How many more Ramanujan's are languishing in India today, unable to find mentors willing to listen? A taxi driver I travelled with recently said he had dropped out of school, and every job he applied to required a certificate, for which he was unable to pay for. How are we to progress, if we were to deny people a chance to learn and grow, simply because they don't have the credentials on paper?

It also reflects on how we continue to depend on external recognition to feel reassured and self-important. Ramanujan's status grew exponentially after Hardy's endorsement. While this can be excused as we were still under the British Raj back then, we continue to establish our self-worth by the same scale. How often do we sing praises of Indians being recognized on an international stage - Satya Nadella, Sundar Pichai etc. after they were made CEO's of these globally acclaimed organizations? There was even a mad scramble which ensued among various schools, fighting to claim Sundar Pichai as their alumnus.

And it is not only restricted to celebrities. This judgmental attitude is prevalent in day-to-day life, among families and friends, constantly being bracketed based on their "status" abroad. Where one's worth isn't determined by what one does, but rather where he/she is.

While we are positive in our outlook for the country's future, it is going to  take some time before we get out of our inferiority complex. That responsibility lies with the young generation,  and hopefully, we will deliver sooner than expected.