“Ai, Ya***n, ek cup cha nia ae to!” I could hear his voice from the other end of the street. A strong, powerful, commanding voice. He was my high-school physics teacher.
I remember sitting in his balcony, while he smoked his cigarette, and sipped his tea, discussing physics; everything but the school curriculum. We had endless discussions about reality, not in some abstract metaphorical nonsensical perspective, but in measurable expressions. Everything that was said, was demonstrable and measurable, if not, then its not physics!
We spilled water, blew bubbles, and spun things around.
We made smoke, inspected how things fly, and witnessed how invisible fluids move.
We fired lasers, measured the weight of the Earth, and the energy of the Sun.
We projected objects into orbits that intersected the Earth, and we talked about the life of stars, galaxies, and the universe.
My adolescent life in the sciences have been shaped by this man, Yameen Sir.
He was a legend.
Cheers!
Shup's Garbage 