An extended lull between one’s intent and action sometimes leads to an unexpected positive outcome. I first read about the self-taught mathematical genius Srinivasa Ramanujan in Jawaharlal Nehru’s Discovery of India. Writing from a British jail, Nehru described Ramanujan’s brief life and death as ‘symbolic of conditions in India. Of our millions how few get any education at all.”  Nearly a decade elapsed before Ramanujan invaded my consciousness through an article in the New York Times titled “An isolated genius is given his due” (1987). As an Indian I felt proud; like many others, I was intrigued by Ramanujan’s tragic and compelling life story. In a pensive moment, I reflected on how his life and achievements, captured so splendidly later by Robert Kanigel in The man who knew infinity, might be memorialized. I was a banker living in New York then and had no idea about how I might pay tribute to a genius. Then PBS (NOVA) featured an absorbing and fascinating documentary entitled “The man who loved numbers”. Through interviews with Cambridge dons and Mrs. Janaki Ramanujan in India, the film explored Ramanujan’s short and remarkable life and extraordinary contributions to mathematics. It ended on a wistful note – while Ramanujan’s collaborator G.H. Hardy would be remembered through a plaque at Trinity College, there was no plaque or bust of Ramanujan at Trinity.   I mentioned the PBS film to my uncle on a visit to Madras in 1989/1990. To my surprise, he offered to arrange for me to meet Mrs. Ramanujan. The same evening I was led into Mrs. Ramanujan’s modest home in Triplicane. A frail woman in her nineties, hard of hearing with bright liquid eyes and a sweet smile welcomed me. The small, nondescript room where we sat and talked for less than an hour was made exceptional only by an arresting bust of Ramanujan, made by Paul Granlund, and gifted by a group of international mathematicians. Ramanujan’s presence shone through the bust and dominated the room. I was impressed with the sculptor’s skill in capturing Ramanujan’s deep and penetrating gaze into the beyond; almost suggesting he was privy to a secret knowledge not within the reach of mere mortals. Yearningly and, almost surreally, Mrs. Ramanujan in Tamil spoke about her husband as if he had just died. For him, she said with tears in her eyes, “the only thing that mattered was numbers, numbers and numbers.” Looking forlorn, she said that her husband was forgotten - a math teacher from England of Indian origin and I had been her only visitors in a long time. As our meeting drew to a close, I offered Mrs. Ramanujan a customary gift, a sari and some fruit. I leaned towards her, gently held her slender hand, and told her that she was exceptionally fortunate for having had the opportunity to love and care for her husband, who had found a lasting place among India’s greatest heroes. A smile lit up her face. As I walked out of her home I was led by her foster son  to a street where I was shown several fine-looking water color paintings of Ramanujan. I purchased a few of them - R as a boy in traditional dhoti, his mother braiding his pigtail, a picture of the goddess Namagiri in the background; a young R and an innocent, almost playful, Janaki facing the sacred fire, reciting vedic mantras at their wedding; R wearing a U shaped caste mark, reading a math book; R in a cap and gown receiving a certificate from an English university. In my mind’s eye that night I saw a young man dying, with pen and notebook in hand, working passionately on rarefied mathematical formulae.  My wish to memorialize Ramanujan became reality almost a decade later, when as the head of the Agastya International Foundation I felt it would be inspirational for village children and teachers to have a bust of Ramanujan in the Agastya campus in Kuppam, Andhra Pradesh. After a brief search, we appointed Mr. Jayaprakash Shirgaonkar, the well known Mumbai-based sculptor to make the bust. Among Mr. Shirgaonkar’s works using the lost wax process are the equestrian statue of Emperor Shivaji (Sahar International Airport, Mumbai) and busts of Mahatma Gandhi (Hull City, England), Sardar Patel (India House, London) and Julius Nyerere (Tanzanian parliament).   Working from two of four extant pictures, Mr. Shirgaonkar initially produced a clay model of Ramanujan. Agastya Managing Trustee, Mahavir and I compared the model with Ramanujan’s pictures, one of which appeared on the 1962 commemorative Indian stamp. We watched in fascination as Mr. Shirgaonkar honed and sculpted the bust to capture Ramanujan’s distinctive features and intense look. Fully satisfied with the progress, we left him to complete the job. A few months later a youthful looking bronze bust, thirty three inches high and weighing fifty kilos arrived on campus, where it was unveiled by 2006 Ramanujan Prize winner Ms. Sujatha Ramdorai and members of the Prime Minister’s National Knowledge Commission, in early 2008.   More than a year later my father K.V. Raghavan, a founder trustee of Agastya, suggested that Agastya should gift a bust of Ramanujan to Cambridge University, his alma mater. I thought this was an excellent idea and requested Sujatha to speak to John Coates, our common friend at Cambridge. Sujatha called back to say that John and his colleagues at the Centre for Mathematical Sciences would be delighted to display Ramanujan’s bust at the Centre. In keeping with Agastya’s mission to inspire and spark creativity among young Indians, Agastya decided to gift Ramanujan’s bust to two premier Indian educational institutions. At Sujatha’s suggestion, Agastya gifted a bust to the TIFR’s Centre for Applicable Mathematics, Bangalore, where it was unveiled in the library on December 22, 2009, Ramanujan’s one hundred and twenty third birth anniversary by Prof. K. Ramachandra, publisher of the Hardy-Ramanujan Journal. Speakers on the occasion included Prof. Srikanth, Centre Director and Dr. V.K. Aatre, former adviser to the Minister of Defence, Government of India.  Agastya gifted a second bust to the Indian Institute of Technology – Madras, where it was installed in the foyer of the main Humanities and Sciences Block, and unveiled by the world famous agricultural scientist Dr. M.S. Swaminathan in the presence of IIT-M Director, Dr. M.S. Ananth on March 31, 2010. A cash award was promised to students who produced the most innovative math and science models for dissemination in rural schools. The speakers at both events quoted Ramanujan’s inspiring example to communicate the uplifting message, to students, faculty and staff, that originality, intuition, passion, faith and profound commitment can rise over any obstacle and elevate one to the highest peaks of human achievement.  In May, 2010 my family and I had the pleasure of joining John Coates, Martin Hyland, Tadashi Tokieda and Sally Lowe for lunch at John’s office in Emmanuel College, Cambridge. Lunch was followed by a visit to the Centre for Mathematical Sciences, where we looked admiringly at Srinivasa Ramanujan’s magnificent bust. Ramanujan’s eyes, commented Martin, were gazing at some faraway realm. The bust as promised was installed at a prominent location, where, in John’s words, “literally hundreds of students will pass it each morning...and (the bust) will be a constant reminder to our large student body in mathematics, who comes from all over the world, of the greatness of Indian mathematical thought."  In 2017, Sujatha Ramdorai, now a professor of mathematics and Canada Research Chair at the University of British Columbia and her husband, Ram, very kindly offered to donate money to create the Ramanujan Math Park, or RMP as it has come to be known, on the Agastya campus. Designed by Sujatha and VSS Sastry, a math communicator supported by Mahavir and Thiagarajan from Agastya, the RMP, occupying 5000 square meters and supported by a grant from the State Bank of India Mutual Funds and the HT Parekh Foundation was inaugurated on December 22, 2017, Ramanujan’s 130th birth anniversary and India’s National Mathematics Day.  The RMP’s name began to spread across the globe. In 2018, Sujatha and Tadashi Tokieda of Stanford University showed a film on the RMP at the International Conference of Mathematicians in Rio de Janiero. In 2020, with support from Ravi Kailas, Chairman of Mytrah Energy a bust of Ramanujan was sent to MIT in Boston, where it is displayed in the Department of Mathematics. The same year the RMP’s platonic exhibits were ranked among the best mathematics exhibits from the top 15 math museums of the world, a small and perhaps fitting tribute to Ramanujan. PAUSE  Thousands of children and schoolteachers visit the RMP every year to experience the excitement and joy of learning mathematics hands-on. They get to see math in real life and in nature. Someday perhaps one of them might shine like a brilliant star, as Ramanujan once did, and continues to do so. When I do visit the RMP and stop to stare momentarily at Ramanujan’s bust, I can’t help but remember my meeting with Mrs. Ramanujan on that warm night so many years ago in Madras, now Chennai, and wonder what she might have said, had she known that a math museum named after her husband in a remote rural area in India would one day find a place among the great math museums of the world.

Two US-based founders of Children’s Hope of India (CHI), Ms. Lavina Melwani and Ms. Dina Pahlajani, approached me a few weeks ago, asking me to explore the possibility of Agastya Foundation supporting the education of children who had fled religious persecution in Pakistan and resettled in Jodhpur, India. Messrs. Ravi Kanth of CHI and Hindu Singh of UJAS took me to a village school. The school had 300 children and two teachers, one of whom was a Sanskrit teacher and the other taught all other subjects. The children were from the tribal Bheel community, which had fought alongside Maharana Pratap centuries ago.  Four girls eagerly stood up and sang a beautiful shloka in Sanskrit. The children complained about the poor quality of education, particularly in science and math. They had no science lab. The little knowledge they got was purely from the textbook. I gave each child a sheet of paper and guided them as they performed the “hole in the hand” experiment. They seemed puzzled and surprised. A boy’s eyes widened in disbelief when he “saw” a hole in his hand. There was laughter. “Science does not exist only in expensive labs,” I said, but can be learned as well through simple materials and experiences that produce surprising results. “Learn to question and observe nature, perhaps the best lab, for which you don’t need money.” Impressed by the children’s keenness to learn, I offered to bring Agastya’s sole mobile science lab in Jodhpur to their school, to show them how science could be engaging and fun. The children were like sponges. Their hunger to learn was clear on their faces (how I wished we had money to run more mobile labs, and spark creative learning among all of Jodhpur’s underserved children!). Impulsively, I invited fifteen children to come and stay for a week at the Agastya campus creativity lab near Bengaluru. They were thrilled.  I asked a girl in another class what she would like to be when she grows up. “A doctor,” she replied. A usual reply, I thought to myself. I asked her why, expecting a shy smile in response. She explained with some emotion, “I have two siblings, one is mute and the other is paralyzed from the waist down. I want to cure people.” A boy stood up and said he wanted to be a policeman. “So, you can wield the stick!?” I suggested, to general laughter. Looking thoughtful, the boy said that he wanted to be a policeman so he could punish the corrupt. The teacher whispered to me that the boy’s father had been a victim of corruption.  In a dusty village that afternoon a girl mourned her bad luck in being called ‘a Pakistani’ in India. “I love India. I wish we were accepted as Indians like everyone else,” she said. We talked about the importance of self-belief, having an optimistic outlook on life and taking responsibility for one’s future. There’s no water, electricity or paved roads, they complained. I was at a loss to suggest a solution to age old problems. The girl, a member of the tribal Kolhi community [1]  and a sports buff, lightened the mood with a marvelous demonstration of martial art. The following day a few girls arrived to take part in an Agastya science fair at a government schooI led by a dynamic principal. The girls smiled as they cut a ribbon to start the fair to applause. They showed delight and enthusiasm, as they engaged in various experiments, experiencing the magic of Aah! (curiosity) Aha! (creative learning) and Ha-Ha! (joy and confidence). My colleagues and I look forward to hosting them at the Agastya campus. [1]  The Kolhis fought valiantly in Sindh in 1857, during India’s First War of Independence. Their heroic leader, Rooplo Kolhi, had been tortured, his hands bound in cotton, soaked in oil and burnt, and hanged.

“Be the change you want to see”, said Gandhi. The former President of India, Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam inspired millions of children and teachers, including those served by the Agastya Foundation, through his thoughts and deeds. I vividly remember my first meeting with Dr. Kalam, arranged by K Ramchand, his former defense research colleague, in Rashtrapathi Bhavan in 2003. Dr. Kalam emphasized 'curiosity, skills, and confidence' as the keys to transforming India. Lamenting the propensity among educated Indians to seek security in a desk job, Dr. Kalam said, "You have left a thriving career in the West to educate young Indians. If you want to make a difference, do not get comfortable behind a desk, go and work in rural India.” Agastya staff and children fondly remember Dr. Kalam's visit to our Mobile Lab in Bangalore in 2006. As he got into his car to leave he turned to me and said, “If you bring your mobile lab to the backward areas of the North and North East I will help you.” True enough, a few years later as I was boarding a flight to Mumbai he called me to say that he had won the Rs.1 crore, SR Jindal Prize for Exemplary Service to mankind. Delighted, I interrupted him and said, “Congratulations Sir. The prize is well deserved.” He surprised me by saying that he had decided to give a fourth of his prize money to Agastya to buy two mobile science labs “to serve the poorest children in the most remote areas in Bihar.” The rest of the prize money was going to support the projects of three worthy NGOs. I was overwhelmed by Dr. Kalam’s generosity, which catalyzed a vibrant hands-on science education program reaching over 100,000 children, 700 schools, and 2100 teachers in Darbhanga district, Bihar.  Dr. Kalam’s inspiring speech at the Agastya Creativity Conclave at NIAS, Bangalore in 2010 and his visit to Agastya’s Kuppam campus in 2012 charged and motivated the staff and children of Agastya. I was asked to meet Dr. Kalam at the Raj Bhavan in Bangalore, at midnight, the night before he visited the Agastya campus. At 80, looking remarkably fresh at the late hour, he listened to my detailed update on the Bihar mobile lab program, enquired about the following day's schedule, and expressed his eagerness to help Agastya in any way he could. Dr. Kalam’s connection with children was indeed remarkable. His talk and electric presence at the Agastya campus left a lasting impact on many underprivileged children, motivating them to create prize-winning science projects and do remarkable work in their communities. On Diwali night I walked into his Rajaji Marg home office in Delhi with a young artist, a schoolgirl. Visibly energized by the young girl’s presence, Dr. Kalam asked her, “What is your passion?” “Painting” she replied. “How wonderful” he beamed and followed up with his next question, “What is the first thought that comes into your mind when you paint?” The girl thought for a moment and said, “Colour.” “Aha!” he said with delight as if she had solved a puzzle. The girl offered a calendar of Lord Ganesha, the overcomer of obstacles, that she had painted as a gift to Dr. Kalam. Accepting it with a smile Dr. Kalam recounted a story on Ganesha. As he walked us out, he asked an assistant to fetch a book, and softly read out a poem to the girl under the lamplight. He pointed to the dark silhouette of a large tree in his garden. “That tree is called Arjuna. It is five hundred years old.” As I reached my hotel, I thought about this remarkable man who, against challenging odds, rose to the highest office of the land. Dr. Kalam showed me why he is so deeply loved and admired by people all over the world. For a few precious minutes, this famous son of a boatman had made a young girl feel as if she was the most special person on earth. I couldn't help but admire Dr. Kalam’s passion and energy then, and again when he made his way through the mist on a cold winter's day in distant Darbhanga to inaugurate the Agastya mega science fair. I asked him to tell me the secret of his almost limitless energy. He replied, "When you give selflessly you gain energy." Dr. Kalam was a great son of India, an Indian hero. We shall miss him.

41st Foundation Day Lecture at IIMB In January, 1882 Van Gogh, the great Post-impressionist painter in a letter to his brother Theo, wrote “Drawing becomes more and more a passion with me, and it is a passion just like that of a sailor for the sea”. Van Gogh’s art represented painting as music. “They are not just flowers in a vase, they are something almost cosmic”, said a critic of The Sunflowers, one of Van Gogh’s most famous paintings. Unlocking the creative potential of children, adults and communities around the world - rich, poor and downtrodden - is one of the central challenges of the 21 st century. By the end of my speech you will learn about the transformative power of curiosity and new ways to see, unlock and unleash your own creativity. So, what makes you creative, innovative, or a great problem-solver? Is it something in your genes or a skill that you have learned? In 1884 when Einstein was 5 years old and ill in bed his father brought him a gift, a magnetic compass. The compass fascinated the young Einstein because whichever way he held it, it always pointed in the same direction. It was a momentous gift. Einstein remarked years later that it was the magnetic compass that made him wonder if there was an invisible force behind everything in the universe and as you know he dedicated his life to finding it. I know what you are thinking. Do I have to be an Einstein to be creative? So let’s fast forward more than a century later to 2008 on a hot summer’s day in rural India, when two village girls, Rani and Roja – one the daughter of a farmer with no more than 1 or 2 acres of land and the other the daughter of a carpenter – sat under a tree to escape the sun. Rani looked at Roja and said “Roja, do you ever wonder why you feel cool sitting in the shade of a tree?” Roja thought for a second and replied “maybe it has something to do with the fact that the leaves and branches of the tree shield us from the sun”. The girls continued talking until the Aha! Question popped out “Would different leaves have different cooling effects? That question led to a project not surprisingly titled the cooling effect of leaves, and working with teacher-igniters from the Agastya Foundation nine months later the girls won a prestigious Intel-IRIS Science Award competing with the best and brightest students from across India; most of them from urban schools. Is the story of Rani and Roja an uncommon one? Let me tell you about Sai and Pavithra two kids in N. Karanataka who used to visit their village on their vacation and see mountains of groundnut shells piled up on the countryside. India, as you know is one of the largest producers of groundnuts in the world. Sai and Pavithra wondered if anything useful could be made from the discarded shells and came up with the idea of making paper. So they went their idea to see their Chemistry teacher and came up with a formula and produced a paste to dry. When it dried the paste would not hold together, so they had hit a brick wall, until one day observing his grandmother cook his favorite ladies finger (okra) dish Sai observed that the boiling okra left behind a gluey residue. That was his Aha! Moment! The kids used the residue as the glue to hold the groundnut paste and produced quality paper. Their innovation was filmed by the Deshpande Foundation and uploaded on YouTube. An entrepreneur watched it and came to Agastya with an idea to commercialize Sai and Pavithra’s innovation, but that’s another story, which time does not permit me to get into today. Since 2008, hundreds of poor children – children whom Agastya teaches to teach other children, children of parents with little to no money - have produced projects with creative and innovative findings and insights, and many of them have won prizes and awards in India and abroad. What do these stories tell you? I think they tell you the value of curiosity, the spirit of enquiry, the magic of wonder, the power of passion. Einstein attributed his earth shattering insights to curiosity, obsession and dogged endurance - staying with a problem until you have cracked it. Newton’s peculiar gift wrote Keynes was his “continuous, concentrated introspection”, his ability to hold continuously a problem in his mind for weeks until he cracked it. Our Rishis had great mental energy, which enabled them to hold ideas in their mind continuously for years and decades. In 1988 when I was a banker in NYC I saw a film on PBS called The Man Who Loved Numbers, about the mathematical genius Ramanujan. As I watched fascinated, Janakiammal, Ramanujan’s wife’s comments on her husband moved me deeply. A few weeks later I was on a visit to Madras, and one evening I mentioned the PBS film to my uncle. To my delight and surprise, he asked me “Would you like to meet Mrs. Ramanujan?” I said, “Yes!” About an hour later I was led into a modest home in Triplicane and was immediately drawn to a magnificent bust of Ramanujan’s made by an American sculptor, and funded by a 100 mathematicians around the world. The bust dominated the room. As we chatted, Mrs. Ramanujan, who was 89 and hard of hearing, said in a high-pitched voice with tears in her eyes, “People have forgotten my husband”. Speaking about Ramanujan’s last days she said that pieces of paper with abstruse mathematical formula scribbled over them were strewn on his deathbed. “For him”, she said with wonder, “it was only numbers, numbers and numbers”. Ramanujan did not just love numbers. He lived them - an astounding, perhaps even an extreme, example of passion-based creativity. So why should you be creative? Creativity is the most desired trait among knowledge workers today because creativity leads you to new ideas, which lead to invention and innovation, which lead to productivity and prosperity. And as future leaders you need to be creative, to build environments where creativity can flower and flourish. Equally, the creative spirit as the great sages, artists and poets tell us elevates your vision. It connects you to things beautiful and sacred beyond your narrow self and experience. It infuses spontaneity, and gives meaning and purpose to life. When someone asked J Krishnamurti why he spoke so much to public audiences he replied, “Why does a flower bloom?” Twelve years ago when I returned to India to start Agastya Foundation I asked the question: What makes a country creative and innovative? Can you raise the level of the ocean, the speed limit of creativity of a country? Through discussions with Dr. PK Iyengar, KV Raghavan, teachers, educators, students and business people on what distinguishes a creative person we came up with a model. We said that you the creative person are a great observer; you see more than others; you hear more than others; you feel more deeply than others; you experience deep, unbiased awareness, which gestates and grows an idea or thought. You tinker and experiment; you have the capacity to connect, assimilate and associate different pieces of apparently unconnected knowledge and information, and the ability to apply your insight to produce something of value for yourself, your community or society. Skills, identical to the discovery skills of creative entrepreneurs that Christensen and others document in The Innovator’s DNA. So we asked the question “can you learn such skills?” and the answer was “Yes you can!” Iyengar told me that he was certain that a non-scientist like me would become a much better observer if I practiced doing a bunch of low cost science experiments. When Chanakya was sitting downcast in a village questioning why he and his protégé Chandragupta were losing their battles against their hated enemy the Nanda king, he saw a boy being served a plate of hot rice by his mother. The boy was hungry, immediately scooped a handful of rice and put in his mouth. The hot rice scalded the boy’s tongue and he screamed in pain. His mother scolded him, saying “You silly boy. Don’t you know the rice is hottest at the center? You should start from the edges and work you way to the center”. That was the Aha! Moment, that Chankaya needed. He realized the reason he had been losing his battels with the Nanda king. He and Chandragupta had been attacking their enemy at the center, where he was strongest. From that day forward they changed their strategy and started attacking the fringes and gradually worked their way to the center. Their successful strategy, known as the rice bowl stratagem, led to the Mauryan empire. To observe better, you must have the urge, the motivation and the passion to enquire and discover. So if you want to raise the speed limit of creativity in a society you have to create conditions to trigger and unleash curiosity. You might not produce a Ramanujan, but you can build systems that encourage and enable more Ranis and Rojas to express and give shape to their ideas fearlessly. How? We decided to focus on hands-on, experiential learning because cognitive scientists tell you that this is a proven way to increase learning and retention. The human brain on average retains 5% of a lecture in its long-term memory, 50% of what you see and hear, 70% of what you discuss with someone, 80% of what you personal experience and over 90% of what you teach to others. Also, hands-on experience results in higher levels of motivation and confidence. Over the years we realized that the answer to triggering curiosity and fostering creativity and innovation might well lie in a simple toy like the Tippe Top. The Tippe Top highlights the three most important elements in learning. When you spin it, it tips over unexpectedly and you go Aah! Rather like how you feel when you see something counterintuitive, arresting or beautiful, when your curiosity is stirred and your mind is awakened. And then you wonder why or how this happens. And the process of discovery leads you to the Aha! Moment or several Aha moments when things click, or when you have an insight. Finally, you must have fun doing what you are doing, which is the Ha-ha element. Fun and humor remove fear and anxiety, help retention and increase performance. If the 3Rs were the stepping-stone for education in the 20 th century, I believe the 3 As – Aah, Aha and Ha-ha – are the stepping-stones to creativity in the 21 st century. It’s easy! Infuse the 3 As into education, into the way you live and you will raise your creative output by triggering important behavioral shifts, from Yes to Why, from Looking to Observing, from being Passive to learning to Explore, from being Textbook-bound to Hands-on, and finally, the most important shift, from Fear to Confidence. Some years ago, I happened to visit a village school where I met the head teacher and asked her “what impact is Agastya having on your children?” and she pointed me to a tall girl, Uma who was standing under a tree. So I went up to Uma and asked her “Uma, you have been visiting Agastya for several months now, has there been any change?” and do you know what she said? She didn’t say that she was doing great in her studies – which apparently she was – she just looked at me and said, “I am not afraid to speak anymore”. This was an Aah, Aha and Ha-ha moment for me. I realized that the real value of our hands-on interventions was the precious opportunity they gave disadvantaged children to lift their confidence and self-belief, to shift from what psychologists call ‘learned helplessness’ to ‘learned optimism’. Uma became the first girl from her village to go to an engineering college and her example inspired many other girls from her village to join college. So curiosity is a wonderful thing. But as life shows you all too often curiosity alone does not guarantee action. And confidence alone sometimes can lead you to ill conceived and - when it spills into arrogance - disastrous action. Curiosity combined with confidence can lead you to strong action. And curiosity with confidence and humanity can lead you to right or creative action. I have talked about curiosity in terms of the external world, but this is only half the story. There is, equally, the power of curiosity into your inner world, the science of the interior, or Adhyatma Vidhya. Among Indian sculptors of old long periods of meditation produced godly and spectacular works of art, what Aurobindo termed as great examples of ‘spirit to form’. On the seventh of June, 1893 when 24 year-old Mohandas Gandhi was thrown out of the first class compartment of his train in Maritzburg, South Africa he sat humiliated and shivering in the dark waiting room pondering his plight. He thought, “I have three options. I can forget what happened to me and continue with my life. I can go back to India, or I can stay and fight”. He concluded that he would be a coward if he chose option 1 or 2. He decided to stay and fight. Gandhi’s introspection on that miserable wintry night, when he questioned, discovered, felt and explored his fears and motives in a moment of personal crisis was a defining experience, a deeply creative one for him and a pivotal moment for the world; a moment which led to action, whose results benefitted millions. The coming together of Gandhi’s inner questioning with purposeful action changed the world. So when the two worlds of curiosity – the outer and the inner – meet you have a revolutionary mind, a mind that is infused with abiding curiosity, confidence and humanity, a mind that lives and acts creatively, a mind that acts with passion and purpose. That mind is yours if….IF you are aware and alive to the power and richness of being curious, to the fun and excitement of uncertain and unknown outcomes; if you enquire, tinker and experiment not only because you want a result be it money, fame, success, love or liberation but because you enjoy and love the process of discovery! Five thousand and one hundred years ago a blind kind asked his charioteer “Dharmakshetre Kurukshetre Samveda Yuyutsava, Mamakaah Pandavashchaivvah Kimma Kurvata Sanjaya?” You are today at the crossroads of a similar ‘make or break’ decision. You have a great responsibility. Like never before in our history, what you chose to do in and for India will have a profound effect on the world. As Krishnamurti said, “You are the world”. Do you want to build a creative India? An India, that invents and innovates, an India that creates and builds new ways and methods of learning, business, entrepreneurship, politics, social enterprise, sustainable living, and spiritual living. Or do you want to copy what someone else says or does? As you step out of IIMB into the world to produce great results and make a difference, be curious in the deepest sense. Practice the art of being curious. Take projects and assignments with uncertain and unknown outcomes that force you to enquire and discover. Watch yourself closely through your journey and write down and discuss your observations. Elevate your vision, go where no one’s gone before, challenge and inspire yourself and your colleagues through your unique mission. Sing and dance, or create environments where singers and dancers like Rani and Roja or a young Ramanujan can flourish. You will be creative either way. Find your Tippe Top and live the 3As – Aah! Aha! and Ha-ha!

A shift in context often sparks a new idea or opportunity. My recent visit to resurgent China marked a significant personal shift in outlook towards China. Visitors to Beijing and Shanghai talk admiringly of their spectacular growth, frenetic shopping and the hyper fast Shanghai Mag Lev train. I would like to share my experience in discussing ‘the story of Agastya Foundation’ with students, current and prospective social entrepreneurs, business people, journalists and others at the invitation of Ashoka ( www.ashoka.org ) and the Jet Li One Foundation.  Without exception, the audiences at the eight venues where I spoke on Agastya’s scintillating ten-year voyage and the challenges of social entrepreneurship were inquisitive and hungry for information, insight, and perspective. We discussed Agastya’s growth and evolution, and how its hands-on teaching-learning methodology could be replicated in China. My audience was keen to learn how Agastya sparks curiosity and creativity among poor children and government schoolteachers. Can curiosity be measured? A spontaneous demo of the Tippe Top from Chennapatna provoked a few giggles, excitement and sighs of wonder followed by a brief discussion on learning science through toys. Does Agastya foster critical thinking skills? Is Agastya leveraging India’s formidable IT skills to educate rural children? The interactions grew lively, intense and personal. What about values? What does it mean truly to feel another person’s pain? How does one instill ‘humanistic’ skills? What’s Maya (illusion)? Could I narrate my personal story? Was there a defining moment that caused me to switch from banking to social work? How did I persuade my wife to move from London to Bangalore? A woman asked, somewhat tensely, if she should quit her job with an MNC to start her dream social venture. The discussion moved on to the challenges of social entrepreneurship. Are the risks and opportunities of social entrepreneurship different from those of business entrepreneurship? How does a social venture raise money? How can it scale up, sustain itself and transform the environment? How should a social entrepreneur approach and work with government? Will Agastya support social ventures in China?  The dialogue touched more sensitive ground as a powerful business leader quizzed me over dinner about Indians’ perception of China. Considering India’s historical spiritual influence on China - “our gods look like Indians” and “many Chinese business leaders have embraced Buddhism” - and our mostly conflict-free history, why do Indians fear China? We discussed Chinese history, the 1962 war and Pakistan and whether Chinese society lacks institutional memory. Which model - China’s top-down or India’s bottom-up one – will in time produce superior results? A guest revealed the interesting, if worrying, prospect that China’s one-child policy could create a nation of prima donnas. Another expressed horror at the stark inequities between India’s urban super rich and its slum-dwellers.  At a discussion with social entrepreneurs in Shanghai I depicted facets of creativity and leadership through inspiring stories, of the Buddha, Gandhi, Sardar Patel, Einstein, Feynman and J. Krishnamurti among others, and hastened to ascribe the lack of Chinese stories to my relative unfamiliarity with Chinese history. I described Chanakya’s 2500 year-old rice bowl stratagem as an example of creativity in warfare and drew an instantaneous response that Chairman Mao had conceived and prosecuted a similar strategy in his war of liberation. Several participants offered interesting ideas. Like the man in the Mao Cap (I had mistakenly called it a Guevara cap), who suggested that Agastya should launch a Lab in a Tricycle. I mentioned Agastya’s new Mobile Auto Rickshaw Science Lab, which drew a blank followed by animated discussion – what’s an auto rickshaw? Or the young woman at Peking University who wants to transplant the Agastya Mobile Art Lab in China and the student at Fudan University who wanted to know if Indians are smarter than Chinese.  Almost everyone I spoke to expressed readiness to engage with the poor and the minorities overlooked by China’s unbalanced, roller coaster growth. Beijing and Shanghai are not representative of China, they said. Several socially minded entrepreneurs expressed interest and enthusiasm in replicating Agastya’s grassroots education model in rural and Western China. A consultant at McKinsey was keen to connect me with Chinese students in California interested possibly in interning with Agastya. The head of a non-profit incubator offered to send a box of traditional Chinese toys to demonstrate to Indian children, promising a much-needed spur to Agastya’s overdue mobile toy lab. Was rare idealism impelling my young listeners to reach out to those less fortunate than them? A Westerner advised me privately that ‘only a Chinese can succeed in China’. This was swiftly countered by a Chinese, ‘Westerners do not understand China’. The lackluster environment of many Chinese schools – rote-based learning, lack of curiosity, inquiry and creativity – is not dissimilar to that of most Indian schools. The conditions in both countries are ripe for radical change; the possibilities for collaboration, and the potential benefits of this for India, China, and the world, are enormous.  I came back from my Chinese sojourn refreshed and recharged with respect for China’s youth and well-intentioned social entrepreneurs. More social and spiritual exchanges can help to build constructive relations and perceptions between Indians and Chinese. Perhaps Agastya should commence an initiative to spark curiosity in Chinese schools. To my delight, a few days after my visit I was informed that a box of traditional Chinese toys from Shanghai was on its way to Agastya.

A Chef Who Drives Princeton's Mission A few days ago, Monica and I were given a tour of Princeton University by James Van Wyck, who manages graduate student professional development programs (Princeton and Agastya are in the process of signing an agreement offering Princeton graduate students internship opportunities at Agastya).  We walked into the dining area of Mathey College, where we bumped into Chef Michael Mattis (Princeton Univ. has many colleges, each with their own hall of residence and dining). Michael explained with visible pride, and in some detail, the range of cuisine that the dining staff produce every day for students (there's lots on offer for vegetarians too). He visibly owned his responsibilities and remarked, almost casually, that through the great food that his kitchen produces, "I am building the future leaders."  Monica responded by asking me to narrate the 'JFK and the NASA janitor' story, which I did (when JFK asked a NASA janitor who was carrying a broom what he was doing, the janitor responded, "Mr. President, I am helping to put a man on the moon."). Michael beamed and said, "you have made my day!" I told Michael that he was an inspiration.  The larger point of course is that when people engaged in seemingly less critical support positions in an organization believe that their work is central to the organization's success, you have a special institution whose success, and possibly greatness, is assured.   Indeed, this is the message that we have been communicating to Agastya staff and must continue relentlessly to do. Every member, no matter how high or low, must see and believe, in their own important way, how their work contributes to Agastya's mission. Then, magic happens.

Summary In a captivating discussion, Dr. Manu Prakash, a bioengineering professor at Stanford, shares insights into his scientific journey, passion for exploration, and dedication to accessible, hands-on science. Prakash, known for creating affordable science tools like the Foldscope and Paperfuge, emphasizes the importance of curiosity and interdisciplinary thinking in science. He recounts childhood experiences that fostered his adventurous spirit in learning and advocates for an education system that encourages exploration outside traditional boundaries. Prakash describes his research on life as a computational process, seeking to understand how biological systems process information, from cellular behavior to evolutionary patterns. He also reflects on science as an iterative, question-driven field that thrives on conversations and collaborative critique, urging young learners to hold onto their curiosity as a lifelong guide. Educators should consider fostering a sense of adventure in learning to make education more engaging. Scientists should define themselves by the questions they're interested in, rather than by their skills. Researchers should be open to exploring multiple fields to address their questions of interest truly. Dr. Prakash suggests making scientific tools more accessible to enable broader engagement in scientific exploration. Educators should encourage more observation and hands-on experience in scientific learning. Scientists should cultivate a trusted group of colleagues for open scientific discussions and critiques. Young students should preserve their curiosity and adventure in learning, regardless of grades or external validation.