NINETEEN multiplied by 95?’’ asks Vivek Shukla. ‘‘1805,’’ comes the chorus.‘‘16 multiplied by 18?’’ ‘‘288.’’ Spot on again.‘‘18 by 9?’’‘‘Wait, I know that. 163!’’ I offer. Five heads turn towards me, all with dismissive expressions.‘‘162,’’ sighs 12-year-old Chaitanya Naik. I stare at him in exasperation. ‘‘OK, what’s 19 into 19?’’‘‘Hey, don’t get so competitive. It’s 361,’’ he says. Shukla tries to broker peace. ‘‘It’s alright. It will come to you with practice. Not everyone can rattle off the 19 times table without an error, but squares are easy.’’ Shukla is an Indian Forest Service aspirant, and a member of the Thane Study Circle. His simple solution to almost all of life’s problems? The science of Vedic maths. Shukla, along with his moppetish assistant Manasi Lolekar, conducts classes (five one-hour sessions a week, Rs 850 for a year) on the ancient science of arithmetic, essentially teaching techniques that have their roots in Vedic maths. The objective is to make you an entrance exam cracker. ‘‘One has 36 seconds to solve each question in an entrance exam and there are about 200 questions to demolish, so time and speed are important,’’ says Shukla, who’s ‘‘preparing the kids for the all important exams of their lives’’. A tad early, you wonder? ‘‘Vedic maths can’t be learnt in a jiffy. It takes almost five years to master the various sutras or formulae,’’ says the 28-year-old, who’s also a graphologist and insists on a handwritten biodata from every student with a note on his/her professional plans. ‘‘We are all assembled here to decipher the nikhilam navataha, charam dashataha,’’ says Shukla. I close my eyes in divine reverence, expecting the light of mathematical knowledge to dawn on me. ‘‘Don’t sleep, we are here to learn to multiply multiple numbers in exactly two and a half seconds,’’ booms Shukla. My initiation into the world of Vedic sutras begins with chanting yaavdunam, tyaavdhuni or ‘‘it’s as near as far as it gets’’; this one comes in handy when dealing with two digit numbers. As you chant, you throw your right arm forward (yaavdhunam or near), and the same arm across your neck backwards (tyaavdhuni or far). For the ancient gurus, this was a physical interpretation of a mathematical formula, says Shukla, and one that had immense recall value. Now for the maths. This sutra makes multiplication a cinch. Say, you want to multiply 97 with 97. Take a base of 100 first. 100-97=3. Now square 3. That gives you 9. Keep it aside ’cos that’s one part of your answer. Then minus 3 from 97. That’s 94 and it’s also the first part of your answer. Then take a zero from your base and squeeze it in between both parts. That’s 94, 0, 9—9409. It’s that simple. By now I’m grinning quite stupidly at my classmates. Sixteen-year-old Shreya Chitale, an aspiring doctor, has already cracked 49 times 64, and Chaitanya wants more three digits to deal with. ‘‘It’s time for the netra abhishekam,’’ says Shukla. If that means deriving the quadratic equations of nine digit numbers, I’m out of here. Turns out we’re actually taking a break. We close our eyes and rub our palms vigorously. Hands warm, I gently pat my face and eyes, and meditate for exactly five seconds. After which, Shukla says we are ready for the urdhva-tiryagbhyam. Another level of complex multiplications? Hmmm, no, I think I’ll pass. On my way out, I meet a mum who’s anxious about her ward’s inability to crack 14 times 16. ‘‘It’s just his third session. Give him some time,’’ says Shukla. Meanwhile, I try to recite the 14 times tables backwards under my breath. 14 sixzaa anyone?
