Harshvardhan Blogs

Mother, my first teacher, wise and kind, In her arms, the world's wonders I find. Her gentle voice, a guiding light, In her embrace, all fears take flight. With tender hands, she shapes my dreams, In her eyes, the universe gleams. She teaches love, with every smile, Her lessons linger, mile by mile. Through every fall, she's there to mend, Her wisdom endless, like the wind. In her heart, a boundless sea, Of patience, strength, and clarity. Mother, my first teacher, pure and true, In her love, I find my view. Her lessons echo, through the years, A symphony of hopes and fears. With every step, her spirit guides, Through life's vast and changing tides. Her teachings, etched in my soul, Mother, my first teacher, you make me whole

In numbers and patterns, a world unfolds, A tapestry of logic, stories untold. With symbols and figures, the dance begins, In the realm of maths, where beauty spins. Equations like puzzles, a mind’s delight, Unveiling secrets in the quiet night. From ancient theorems to modern dreams, Maths is the river where knowledge streams. Infinite sequences, a boundless sea, Where finite minds seek the mystery. Geometry’s shapes, so precise, so clear, Circles and angles, they all appear. In algebra’s code, a language bright, Variables whisper truths in the night. Calculus, the art of change, of flow, Describes the universe, high and low. Statistics and chance, they weave their tale, In numbers, we find where truths prevail. From Pythagoras' land to Euclid’s lines, Maths is the compass, where wisdom shines. So dive into this abstract sea, Where logic and wonder forever be. In the realm of maths, both vast and grand, The beauty of numbers, we understand.