SPAN: September 1966

Breasting the tape

at the end of the mile run during the Berkeley track meet, Ryun sets a new world record of 3:51.3 for the event. In three years. the young Kansas college student has run fourteen faster-than-four-minute miles.

SPAN New Forms for an Ancient Craft

2

by Carmen Kagal

Will He Do It Again?

8

by K. G. Gabrani

American Plays on the Indian Stage

12

by Donna M illons

Focus, Prize-winning Student Magazine

20

The Search for Ways to Keep Youthful

32

by George A. W. Boehm

Who Benefits the Most?

38

by Urmila K. Devgon

Champions of the Sports World

Front Cover Linking pottery to its beginnings in the mists of antiquity, Avinash Pasricha photographed some pieces of Chinhat pottery against the historic backdrop of the Qutab Minar.

See pages 2-7 for sto'ry on Chinhat.

42

Back Cover James Lovell prepares to board Gemini 7 in which, together with Frank Borman, he spent 14 days in space, Reflected on his helmet are NASA workmen at Cape Kennedy.

See the story beginning on page 44.

W. D. Miller, Publisher; Dean Brown, Editor; V. S. Nanda, Mg. Editor.

Editorial Staff: Carmen Kagal, Avinash Pasricha, Nirmal K. Sharma, K. G. Gabrani. Art Staff: B. Roy Choudhury, Nand K. Katyal. Production Staff: Awtar S. Marwaha, Mammen Philip. Photographic Services: USIS Photo Lab. Published by the United States Information Service, Bahawalpur House, Sikandra Road, New Delhi-I, on behalf of the American Embassy, New Delhi. Printed by Arun K. Mehta at Vakil & Sons Pvt. Ltd., Narandas Building, Sprott Road, 18 Ballard Estate, Bombay-l.

Manuscripts and photographs sent for publication must be accompanied by stamped, self-addressed envelope for return. SPAN is not responsible for any loss in transit. Use of SPAN articles in other publications is encouraged except when they are copyrighted. For further details, write to the Editor. Subscription: One year, rupees five; single copy, fifty paise.

For change of address, send old address to A. K. Mitra, Circulation Manager. Allow six weeks for change of address to become effective.

SPAN OF EVENTS SPORTS HISTORY was made in Berkeley, California, a few weeks ago, when nineteen-year-old Jim Ryun set a new world record for the mile-track's most glamorous event. At the All-American Track and Field Invitation Meet, Ryun's timing of 3 :51.3 cut 2.3 seconds off the record held by Michel Jazy of France. Ryun broke the fourminute barrier when he was just seventeen, the only schoolboy ever to do so. Today he is the first American in twenty-nine years to hold the world mile record.

Now a second-year student at the University of Kansas, Ryun is a serious, shy, and modest young man, who is beginning to taste the heady wine of fame. After his record-breaking race in July, during which his shoes were stolen by a fan, he had to run barefoot for three blocks and up seven flights of stairs to escape a screaming mob of autograph hunters.

The one thing that distinguishes Ryun from any other American teen-ager is his fanatical devotion to running. Early morning risers in his home town of Lawrence, Kansas, are familiar with the sight of Ryun loping through the dawn on a six-mile workout, the first of two he does each day. He also has a regular weight-lifting and calisthenics schedule to develop muscle strength and stamina.

What makes Ryun one of the most exciting sports personalities today is his age. Records show that most milers reach their peak at around twenty-five. This was Roger Bannister's age when he broke the spell of the four-minute mile, as it was Kipchoge Keino's of Kenya when he clocked his best time of 3 :54.2. With several good years ahead of him, Ryun already seems capable of reaching the 3:50 target, and trackmen are now setting their sights on 3 :45. Whether he knows it or not, Ryun is raising a question that is as old as history: What are the limits to human achievement?

Before daybreak Ryuncanbe seen jogging through the empty streets of Lawrence. He runs alone, whether in practice or at the end of a race, when he leaves his rivals far behind.

Wei ght -lifting helps Jim Ryun to develop muscle strength and builds up his six-foot-two-inch, 165-pound frame. It forms a regular part of the teenager's rigorous training schedule.

FOR CENTURIES man has fashioned clay to his needs, hollowing it into bowls to hold food and water or coaxing it into a hundred decorative shapes to bring beauty and colour into his life.

In India tile origins of pottery go back to Mohenjo-Daro and Harappa before 2500 B.c, But skilled though he is, the Indian potter today is faced with competition from the factory which is unleashing a flood of goods at great speed and at low cost. With the rise in standards of living, moreover, the glossy new articles are steadily whittling away the market for his rough home-made products. It would seem, then, that the millions of potters in India are to fall victim to the inexorable march of progress.

The answer to the Indian potter's dilemma may lie in a village called Chinhat, eight miles from Lucknow. Here the U.P. Government's Planning Research and Action Institute (PRAI) has set up a pilot pottery project which is devising new forms for an age-old craft.

Though the Chinhat project started in 1957, the first seven years were spent in experimentation-developing glazing and firing techniques, evolving designs for a kiln, and evaluating the plant's effects on the local people. Since 1964, when actual manufacture began, Chinbat has proved that the production of pottery on an intermediate scale can be successful-in fact, it has been so successful that the plant can barely keep up with the demand for its products.

To the factory at Chinhat-a cluster of low sheds above which rise the chimneys of the kilns-come shopkeepers from the city who buy up pottery by the carload; middle-class housewives who, bewildered by the array and profusion of articles, do not know what to choose; and villagers who rummage around in the plant's pile of discards which can be bought for twenty per cent of their original price. Where once visitors to Lucknow took back its famed chikan work, people now flock to Chinhat to buy its pottery, Chinhat today is producing a wide range of articles-tea-sets and coffee-sets, jars, vases, jugs, glasses, mugs, dishes and bowls in an infinite variety of shapes, sizes and colours. The plant's present output is worth Rs. 300,000 a year, of which Rs. 30,000 is profit.

Despite its success, Chinhat has no plans for expansion. PRAI Director Anand Sarup is of the opinion that the plant may be taken over by some other government department, by a co-operative or by private industry. He says, "It may seem strange-we sometimes have to set up a project to lose money, and as soon as we know enough to stop losing money we give it up. But the primary aim of the Chinhat project was the rehabilitation of the village potter-we are preoccupied with the small man-and unless we succeed in doing this in translating this work on a village level, we will have failed."

The Institute has already done some work in this direction. but its efforts have not been entirely successful. At Gaura, another village on the outskirts of Lucknow, the Kumbhkar Udyog Sahkari Samiti (Potters' Co-operative Society) has been established, and a service centre has been set up to supply the needs of the village potters.

In the village, where one can still see the pits in which earthenware is baked by the sun, three kilns have been built in the homes oftraditiona 1potters. In co-operation with the All India Khadi and Village Industries Commission, the Gaura Centre has extended these homes by a wide verandah and has provided a foot-driven shaping machine rather like a bicycle. The Centre supplies the potters with moulds and semi-processed raw materials. Though the villagers, assisted by their wives, are now turning out simple items like cups and saucers, the units are not functioning to full capacity.

One section of the Gaura Co-operative Society is located near the Chinhat factory, where a large shed has been fitted out into four separate workshops which are being run independently by different continued

NEW FORMS

FORAN ANCIENT CRAFT by

CARMEN

PHOTOGRAPHS

KAGAL

BY P. K. MITRA

There are no limits to the potter's imagination and to the potentialities of his medium. This is evident from the vases below and those on the opposite page which were photographed near Humayun's Tomb in New Delhi.

In the Chinhat pieces on these two pages, formal decoration has¡yielded place to patterns dictated by the compulsions of the material-glazes have been allowed to spill over to create their own irregular beauty.

individuals. One of them, H. Upadhyay, who has been conducting his workshop for the last year and a half, believes that if properly run a unit of this type can easily earn around Rs. 300 a month.

The main hurdle to the success of the small units is the efficiency of the kiln. To fire white-ware, temperatures of around 1200 to 1400 degrees Centigrade are necessary; what is more, the temperature in all parts of the kiln has to be uniform. Unlike the large kilns at the Chinhat plant which perform most satisfactorily, the smaller village kilns have not been able to produce the desired heat, and temperature distribution has been unequal. The down-draft kilns used in other countries are extremely efficient, but they are expensive to build. So M. K. Garg, PRAI's Industries Specialist, is continuing his search for , a small kiln that will cost between Rs. 1,500 and Rs. 2,000 to construct.

"We have made many mistakes in the kiln," says Garg, "and we will continue to make mistakes. But if after even a hundred mistakes we develop a workable kiln, the effort will have been worth it."

When this has been achieved and when hundreds of kilns are installed in hundreds of villages, the Indian potter will be able to face the future secure in the knowledge that his traditional skills combined with modern technology can earn a decent living for him and his children.

In Chinhat there has already been considerable improvement in.the potter's condition in the sense that a man who formerly earned twentyfive rupees a month now makes more than four rupees a day. But of the plant's 125 employees, only about ten are potters-the rest include technical and clerical staff, firing and casting experts, jig-makers and glazers. All the painting is done by young village lads who copy the designs set before them and occasionally originate their own patterns.

The factory is run by Rajinder Singh, whose duties as Business Manager range from overseeing its many-sided operations to administering first-aid to an injured worker.

There are signs at Chinhat that another aim of the pilot project has been realized: that of revitalizing and improving the rural economy.

As Singh observes, "I know this much, that when the plant first started the village had only a few kutcha houses and it was difficult even to buy food except on the once-a-week market day. Now many of the houses have been replaced by brick structures, there are proper shops and stores, and the village has the benefits of electricity." There has also been a boost in village morale-the pride that comes of knowing that its products are bringing the world to its doorstep.

One of the main factors accounting for the popularity of Chinhatware is the attractiveness of its design. For this a major share of the credit must go to K.B. Jena, who comes to the plant twice a week from the Design Centre at Lucknow and who has been associated with the project for the last four years. Jena does all the designing at Chinhat, from conception of the basic shapes and forms to working out the decorative patterns which will be painted on each piece.

According to Jena, it is the artist who sets standards for the community, and not popular taste that dictates to the artist. "If an artist is true to himself," he says, "ifhe works with integrity and honesty, then the market will follow him, but the designer can't follow the market."

A remarkable feature of Chinhat pottery is its contemporary look -many of its pieces, in fact, might have been produced in Mexico or Sweden or Germany. Jena's explanation of this is that "the world is shrinking fast. We have met artists from the West, have talked to them, worked with them, looked at their books. And so it is hardly surprising that we should be influenced by them; and I think that they in turn are influenced by us."

Jena goes on to point out that India does not really have an artistic tradition in ceramics as it does in brass or copper or other metals, or in the sense that countries like China and Japan do. There have been

pockets, of course, as in the painted pottery found in Jaipur and parts of Bengal, but on the whole Indian pottery has been restricted to utilitarian purposes.

"Moreover, traditional Indian motifs were never used to ornament such things as tea-pots and cups and saucers, so in the adaptation of these designs to today's shapes, some modernization is inevitable," adds Jena.

In the story of Chinhat an interesting chapter is provided by the visit ofa Bombay artist, Mrs. Anjoli Ella Menon, who by all accounts sweptthrough the place like a breath offresh air. Relating the episode, Sarup says: "I was just sitting here one day when she came in, said she had had some training in France, and that she would like to work at Chinhat. So we told her to go ahead and do whatever she liked. Her expertise as a ceramist was limited, but she produced things we would neverhave dared to produce, while at the same time defining our limits.

Her dash and imagination encouraged us to experiment-for instance, we tried blue and green glazes for the first time-and we organized a very successful exhibition. Though she stayed with us only a month, her influence was-and still is-important."

Traces of this influence are visible not so much in the utility articles but in some of the larger individual pieces where form seems to have been dictated by the compulsions of the material, or where glazes have been allowed to spill over to create their own irregular beauty. It is this quality in Chinhat that attracts even sophisticated city-dwellers.

There is, of course, another reason for Chinhat's wide appeal: its astonishingly low price. To give some idea of this-a set of seven bowls that fit one into the other can be bought for just Rs. 1.87. Though some of the pieces could very easily sell for at least two or three times the price, PRAI is reluctant to charge more because "we would like Chinhat to remain within reach of the common man. We like to feel that we have brought some sophistication and colour into the lives of ordinary people." In Lucknow at least, this is true-in homes, hotels, offices,Chinhat-ware is very much in evidence.

The enormous domestic demand for Chinhat pottery has led the Institute's staff to explore foreign markets. Helping them in this task is American Peace Corps Volunteer Gordon Turner. An industrial arts graduate from New York State University, Turner has written to several U.S. importers, has sent sample packages to America, and is currently working on a brochure to be distributed to prospective foreign buyers. Another Volunteer, Robert Casey, is assigned to the Gaura Co-operative, where he co-ordinates work between the Institute and the society.

THEREAREfew human actions as interesting as the sight of a potter at his wheel. In his hands the clay is willing, plastic, obedient to his every whim. He kneads it, slaps it on the wheel, and in a few seconds it is a bowl or a vase. He holds a stick against the spinning form and suddenly the jar has a ridge; or he works his fingers against the mouth for a minute and the jar has a rim.

The essential ingredients of pottery are quartz, felspar and clay.

K. R. Sharma, PRAI's Junior Associate for Industries and head of the Gaura Centre, says: "Pottery might be compared to the human body, with clay as the flesh, quartz as the bone and felspar as the blood."

These components are mixed in the proportion of fifty per cent clay, and fifty per cent quartz and felspar together.

The raw materials, which are very cheap, come to Chinhat from many parts of India-Rajasthan, West Bengal, Gujarat and Mysore.

The economics of pottery do not require that the raw materials be close to the factory; because the products are so fragile, it is more important that the market-place be near the plant.

Chinhat has brought some sophistication and colour into the lives of ordinary people. The vase below and the tea-set and jug and glasses on the facing page are well within the reach of most middle-class families.

Chinhat, of course, is just one of many projects in which the Planning Research and Action Institute is engaged. Believed to be the only organization of its type in Asia, the Institute is an agency for studying field conditions, identifying problems, evolving solutions by experimentation in real life situations, and then passing them on to planners and field agencies for widespread application.

Some of the thinking that went into the Institute's establishment is explained by Director Sarup. "In India," he says, "we are sometimes too willing to accept other people's remedies for our problems-an attitude that any sociologist or anthropologist will deplore. Now, any exercise in planning is taking a step if not in the dark, at least in the twilight. In India's urgent effort to raise the standard of living of her people, time is irretrievable; therefore, in order to s'ave both time and money, it is necessary to do things on a limited scale before they are spread out on a broad base. And it will be found that in the process of implementation, lots of modification will be needed."

Tracing the history of the Institute, Director Sarup said it is the outgrowth of an idea suggested by Albert Mayer, an American town planner who first came to India during World War II. Through contact with Prime Minister Nehru and with Govind Vallabh Pant, then Chief Minister ofU.P., Mayer became closely involved with the setting up in 1948 of the pioneering Etawah pilot project.

The experience of Etawah and the host of social and economic problems that arose convinced Mayer of the need for an organization that would take up these problems one by one, work out practicable solutions which could then be applied on a large scale. "Mayer became so identified with the state administration of U.P.," says Sarup, "that it is difficult to say where his contribution began and where it ended."

But the Institute, as it exists today, is laid out on the broad principles outlined by Mayer. The Rockefeller Foundation became interested in the project, provided funds for a headquarters building in Lucknow, and the Institute finally came into being in May 1954.

Because the Institute is treading unbroken ground, its activities are of far-reaching significance to India's millions. The Institute, for example, had the first soil conservation training programme for field-level workers; it has devised a type of water-sealed latrine that is suitable for villages; it has developed a rural drainage system which costs just fifty paise per running foot. It has a pilot tannery project, a school health education project, a fly control research project, and a pilot project on an agro-industrial production unit known as the Panchayat Udyog, under which the financial resources of a number of contiguous panchayats are pooled.

The Institute is concerned with numerous agricultural and horticultural research studies, with youth clubs and women's programmes.

As outlined by M. K. Garg, its plans range from a medium sized factory which would produce cement from kankar, a sugar-cane crusher which would lessen the present forty per cent loss, right down to research on the smokeless chula.

At the Institute's Agricultural Engineering Research Workshop in Chinhat, research is under way on the standardization of agricultural implements so that different workshops can manufacture the same product in the same way. Helping to develop jigs and fixtures for these tools are Peace Corps Volunteers Eric Hodges and Bill Hetzner.

In many of its projects, the Institute is co-operating with foreign agencies. Thus, its Family Planning and Communications Research Project, undertaken in collaboration with the Ford Foundation, seeks to develop a programme content and methodology to make family planning a successful village project. In co-operation with UNICEF, it is conducting a pilot project on piped water supply for villages.

Because PRAI gathers under one roof a unique collection of

social scientists, technical experts and evaluators, it creates an impression very different from the stultifying atmosphere of many government organizations. One feels that the winds of change blow constantly through the Institute, that ideas flow freely, that there is a certain spirit of adventure which will accept any challenge.

The Institute's willingness to admit failure is another remarkable feature of the organization and one that renders invaluable service in helping others avoid the same mistakes. In its eleventh annual report, there are numerous instances where indifferent results, partial success or outright failure are admitted-a most unusual occurrence, as anyone familiar with report-writing will agree. About this, Anand Sarup says,"Of course, our failures are many more than our successes. And admitting them is the only way we can keep our integrity and maintain an atmosphere of research."

IN THE COUNTRYSIDE around Lucknow, there are scattered signs of progress: newly-designed village homes which a man can enter without stooping and inside which he can stand erect; the unfamiliar outline of a tractor against the fields in place of the eternal pair of yoked bullocks; a Muslim potter whose products include the image of a Hindu goddess. Set against the enormity ofIndia's problems, these signs seem agonizingly small. But when one comes across a project like Chinhat or an organization like the Planning Research and Action Institute, one dares to hope that India's problems will soon be overcome. END

WILL HE DO ITAGAIN? With all 435 seats in the U.S. House of Representatives to be contested this November, Congressmen and their challengers begin campaigning in earnest this month. The youngest Congressman, Jed Johnson of Oklahoma, is now criss-crossing his district seeking voters' support for his second term.

WHEN THE U.S. House of Representatives opened for the 1965-66 session in January 1965, the youngest member was Congressman Jed Johnson who attained the age of twentyfive, minimum laid down by the U.S. Constitution, only a few days before he took office.

In fact, Mr. Johnson is the youngest man to be elected to the United States Congress in 167 years.

Though Mr. Johnson was brought up in politics-his father was U.S. Congressman from Oklahoma for twenty years and his grandfather was the first treasurer in the Oklahoma county-nomination to the Democratic Party ticket at the age of twenty-four and success did not come the easy way. It took him careful planning and years of hard work.

While at the University of Oklahoma, majoring in political science, Mr. Johnson served all four years in student government and was elected president of the University's student body for one year. After graduation with honours in 1961, he was appointed national field representative for the college division of the American Association for the United Nations which offered him an opportunity to travel extensively, both within the United States and abroad. Later he became president of the United States Youth Council) composed of thirty-three national youth organizations) and was also appointed member of the U.S.

National Commission for UNESCO. Mr. Johnson has toured twenty-five countries including India which he visited in 1962 as the U.S. observer to the Fifth All-India Youth Conference held at Tirupati in Andhra Pradesh. He headed the U.S. Youth Delegation to West Africa in 1963. These visits afforded him first-hand knowledge. of the enormous problems facing the developing countries and of their endeavours to break the shackles of poverty.

Many years of work in youth organizations and travels abroad helped give Mr. Johnson the maturity to chalk out his future. His choice was politics, for he believes that "politics is the best way of bringing change, of making a contribution."

In the November 1964 elections, even though he was nominated by the Democratic Party in the Sixth District of Oklahoma, a traditional Democratic district, Mr. Johnson campaigned vigorously as if the odds were against him. His campaign was unconventional, with emphasis on the personal approach. He leaned heavily upon the young people who enthusiastically carried his point of view to voters. He himself met thousands of them on the streets, in homes,in restaurants and on farms-explaining his election manifesto and asking for their votes.

During his first two-year term, he was continued

A smile, a hope . . .

Jed Johnson (left), who begins his campaign this month for 1966 elections to the u.s. Congress, bases his strategy on personal contact: meeting and greeting thousands of voters. In the 1964 elections, he gave campaign cards to thousands (below), received advice from senior citizens (bottom), and sought Negro votes (bottom left).

"The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today. Let us move forward with strong and active faith." named ranking freshman member of the House AJ;P1ed Services Committee. Earlier this year he won the endorsement of the Democratic Party to run against the Republican nominee James V. Smith in the elections in November 1966.

Though re-election should be comparatively easy, Mr. Johnson is not leaving anything to chance. He has already meticulously planned his election strategy and has started his campaign-working as hard as he did in the last elections. Helping him this time is his wife, the former Sydney Herlong whom he married in 1965.

The Sixth District of Oklahoma, which he represents in the Congress, has a population of some 405,000 and comprises almost half the area of the whole State. To meet as many people as possible, Mr. Johnson begins his ~ay well before dawn and extends it well beyond dusk. He uses all available means of transport to reach his voters in remote parts of the district and appears on TV to take his message to each home.

As in the last elections, young volunteers are assisting Mr. Johnson. They are assigned to a particular town where they talk to homeowners, distribute campaign literature', arrange group discussions and acquaint them with Mr. Johnson's stand on a wide range of issues.

Described by his opponents as an idealistwhich he does not mind-Mr. Johnson says, "You have to have hope and faith and must believe that things can be better."

If he is an idealist, his is a pragmatic idealism. With practised eloquence, he says, "Our capacity for good and for destruction has taken a giant step. We must never forget that we are all a part of the human race, that we must work towards our common well-being through such organizations as the United Nations. I would like to see an international war on poverty, an attempt to turn the idea of the brotherhood of man into reality."

In his campaign speeches, Mr. Johnson often quotes from one of the last writings of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt: "The only limit to our realization of tomorrow wiII be our doubts of today. Let us move forward with strong and active faith."

It is in this spirit that Mr. Johnson hopes to win re-election this year for another two-year term in the U.S. House of Representatives.

Young workers, thoughtful voters Mr. Johnson enjoys strong support of young people. In the last elections, he met and greeted his supporters (left), handed over hundreds of posters for display in stores (far left), sought Red Indian community's support (below) which forms a sizable part of the population. Volunteers helped Mr. Johnson in campaign routine (below left).

END

A number of young, enthusiastic

theatre groups have eagerly taken up the challenge of interpreting American plays to audiences in India. They are choosing unusual plays and experimenting with new techniques. And they are finding that these plays can be meaningJully communicated to a country with different dramatic traditions.

Vigorous theatre movement brings American plays to the Indian stage A FEW MONTHS AGO Yatrik, one of Delhi's theatre groups, put on a performance of Arthur Miller's After the Fall. Before opening night the sceptics were loud in predicting its failure, because the a<:tion level,is low; the story not very cohesive, and the theme quite vague.

To everyone's surprise, the play ran for a total of eight performances-something of a record for a city without a regular theatre-going public. What is more, it played to full houses every night, and Yatrik made more money on After the Fall than any of its other productions.

To transplant an integral part of one culture into an unpredictable segment of another is sometimes a hazard aQd always lh challenge. And the artistic challenge posed by the act of interpreting American drama to the Indian audience is being accepted eagerly by young semi-professional and amateur drama groups throughout India.

The semi-professional theatre in India is a struggling child in the Indian theatrical movement. It is starved for funds, for trained talent, and for halls to perform in, but certainly not for enthusiasm. It is made up primarily of amateurs with full-time jobs elsewhere. Some have involved themselves in the theatre for years; some are truly novices; all are driven by motivations other than financial, as the monetary rewards are few, if at all.

Yatrik is a thriving example of the initiative and dedication of these small groups. Literally meaning "traveller" in Sanskrit and "folk-theatre" in Bengali, Yatrik started out four years ,ago as a touring company which presented Robert Sherwood's Abe Lincoln in Illinois to various universities and colleges in North India. Encouraged by their enthusiastic reception on the tour, members of the group began to consider forming a full-time, semi-professional, repertory company.

The following summer the Yatrik players struck out on their own. With bookings in Dehra Dun and Mussoorie, they presented twelve performances in fourteen days. Added to Abe Lincoln was Samuel Taylor's Sabrina Fair. Lack of funds forced them to pool their own resources for the necessary production materials, travel third class, and pay their own expenses. The next summer saw the addition of Hotel Paradiso by Feydeau and Desvallieres to their repertoire and Naini Tal to their schedule.

By the end of this tour, the members of Yatrik were convinced that a repertory group could succeed in Delhi. A long and painful period of attempting to find housing and financing finally ended when Yatrik signed a contract to present a play every weekend for seven months, a new play each month. The season opened at Assembly Hall, Mahadev Road, in September 1964 with Robert Penn Warren's All cOlltinued

Left, high drama occurs in Yatrik's After the Fall when play's protagonist struggles to take sleeping pillsfrom his suicidal wife.

Because drama groups in India see the theatre as an arena of experimentation, they have performed several plays in the Theatre of the Absurd genre.

the King's Men and concluded with The Matchmaker by Thornton Wilder. Yatrik had launched its career.

Yatrik's history of struggle and dedication is being paralleled throughout India by similar small, enthusiastic groups. Their aims are not to become box-office successes so much as to be artistic successes. The theatre is seen by them as an arena of expression, of experimentation.

And their performances are most controversial, because they are the least acceptable by tradition. Not only do they choose to do unusual and new plays, but they are using unusual and new techniques to perform them. This fresh and exciting approach to the theatre is the principal ideal guiding much of American theatre today as well.

Young Indian theatre groups might best be compared to off-Broadway productions in New York City. Off-Broadway is both an area and an atmosphere. As its name implies, it is out of the mainstream of big theatrical productions. It consists of lofts, basements and old buildings converted with imagination into small theatres. It is an area for experimentation made possible by low production costs and willing individuals. It is in this area that much of America's young dramatic talent is finding expression.

Take, for example, Edward Albee's The Zoo Story, which was presented by Youth of India earlier this season.

Of the genre of the Theatre of the Absurd, Albee is difficult to produce anywhere and more especially so in a setting not familiar with this type of drama. It is experimental in its country of origin as well as its country of transference.

As the impact of The Zoo Story centres primarily on the dialogue, its plot is difficult to sketch meaningfully. There are only two characters. One is Peter, a middle-aged, middleclass family man, who is sitting quietly on a park bench on a Sunday afternoon in New York City. The other is Jerry, a slightly younger, carelessly-dressed man who is walking through the park on his way back from a visit to the zoo.

He walks up to Peter and begins talking. Throughout what is more Jerry's monologue than a dialogue between the two men, one feels the absurdity and impotency of communication between human beings. Frequent references to animals and primitive behaviour soon develop the theme of man's basic animality.

The highest point of tension is created when Jerry launches into a vivid description of his relationship with his landlady's dog. Youth of India's director Harbhajan Virdi chose to do this scene as if Jerry were a dog himself. He scampers around on all fours,portraying visually his close identification with the dog. Virdi's idea was "to make the audience begin to realize the animal qualities in man even before the climax and the expression of the theme."

Upon finishing his story, Jerry realizes that Peter has not understood its meaning. He suddenly challenges his right

to the park bench. Peter refuses to give it up. Jerry pulls a knife, throws it to Peter, then goads him into picking it up.

As soon as he does, Jerry rushes towards him and impales himself. As he falls, Jerry compliments Peter on being an animal after all, thanks him, and dies.

What began as an apparently commonplace occurrence has turned into a frightening and fantastic probe into the nature of man. By stark realism or calculated absurdity, Albee has a gift for mirroring the falsity of social convention and destroying the comfortable veneer by which it is protected, revealing reality in ugly terms. Albee is actually a youngster in the American theatre world. In 1958 he said of himself, "I am only four years old. I am four years old because I have been writing plays for four years."

Virdi works with playwrights in the Absurd realm simply because "I like it." Others are doubtful of its value and ability to withstand the pressures of time. Joy Michael director of Yatrik, comments, "Maybe it's just a phase, but it's fun to work with. And you never know what audiences will like-they are really very fickle."

Alyque Padamsee, director of the Theatre qroup in Bombay, would agree with the proponents of the Theatre of the Absurd. Three years ago he introduced Albee into the dramatic life of Bombay by presenting both The Zoo Story and The Death of Bessie Smith. -the success of this experiment later evidenced itself in translations of Albee's work into Marathi and Gujarati.

Even more recently, Mr. Padamsee presented a pro-

Abe Lincoln in Illinois launched Yatrik on its career four years ago, when it was enthusiastically received in several colleges in North India. Encouraged by the tour, members began to consider the idea of a full-time, semiprofessional repertory company.

The Zoo Story, at far left, deals with the absurdity and the impotency of communication between human beings. In the play, an apparently commonplace meeting on a park bench turns into a frightening probe into the nature of man.

You Can't Take It With You, an old Broadway hit, was presented by the drama group of Lady Irwin College in November 1964. Directed by a visiting Fulbright student, Farley Richmond, the play is a hilarious account of life with an eccentric New York family.

gram me in Bombay entitled "An Evening Off Broadway."

Recognizing the unique qualities of off-Broadway productions, Mr. Padamsee chose excerpts from three which he felt would be of especial appeal to Bombay audiences. Besides The Zoo Story, he presented William Saroyan's Hello Out There and Arthur Kopit's Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mama's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feeling So Sad. Saroyan was once considered the original "wild man" of the American theatre. He was orte of the first to utilize an unconventional method of approach, heavily drawn towards fantasy: In Hello Out There is found the naive American preaching brotherly love with all its brash, poetic, charming and tragic consequences. Its central point, the forerunner of the most popular theme in the genre of the Absurd today, is the lack of communication between human beings.

Kopit is still very new, both to Broadway and offBroadway. The works of this young man, only recently out of college, are generally characterized by a typical undergraduate type of humour, bitterly critical of the sickness of society. It is humour which reveals harshly the rawness of human nature.

Though devoid of the kind of controversy which surrounds the playwrights of the Absurd group, Arthur Miller is one of the most widely accepted-and performed-American playwrights in India. Many of his plays, including Death of a Salesman, A View from the Bridge, The Crucible, and All My Sons have been repeatedly staged by various groups throughout India.

For the past year in Calcutta, a Bengali adaptation of Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman has been enjoying unparalleled success. It is being performed by another young progressive group known as Chaturmukh.

Translated by Sadhan Maitra as Janaiker Mrityu, the literal meaning is "death of an individual."

In Miller's play, Willy Loman is a travelling salesman whose failure to view himself and his life through a perspectiveof reality has forced his whole family to bear the shame and frustration of self-deception. In the end, Willy takes his own life, leaving his two sons, Biff and Happy, to continue the struggle to build their lives upon the unstable foundation left them by their father.

In the Bengali version, the setting is Calcutta. Willy Loman has become Sasadhar Samanta, a drug salesman.

His territory is Bihar, not Boston. The athletic son, Biff, Who has failed at every attempt outside of the football field because of his own undiscovered ineptness, has become Bibekanartda, successful soccer player and unsuccessful film actor. Happy, the only member of the family who has possibly learned to face the unpleasantness of accepting one's own qualities, is Nabakumar, a skilled factory worker.

Except for these few adaptations in locale and names, Death of a Salesman has been changed very little in its transition to Janaiker Mrityu. The essential qualities of the play -its situations, characterizations and theme have all retained their original flavou~. The value of the play lies not in the language but in its universal message.

In the adaptation or translation of a play, a delicate balance must be maintained between the playwright's ideas and the audience's ability to understand and react to them.

This brings up a question very pertinent to the Indian theatre movement. Should American plays be presented just as they are written or should they be translated and/or adapted for Indian audiences? The question is a sensitive and thought-provoking one because artistic values and ideals are involved.

Unless the adaptation of a play is done well, it may lose its uniqueness and become something entirely differentsomething not intended by the playwright at all. Yet if it is not adapted, the meaning of a play may not be communicated, merely because the frame of reference of the Indian audience is different from that of the American audience.

Audience reaction is hard to predict, because audiences have a tendency to be quite independent. Yet part of a director's job is to know what and how he is trying to communicate with his audience.

For the proper appreciation of a play, it is necessary for the audience to be able to identify with the characters onstage. Without this identification, or empathy as it is called, the audience is often unable to grasp the playwright's meaning, to receive the play's full impact. At the end of a performance, both actors and viewers leave with a feeling that nothing has been communicated. This feeling is the very antithesis of the purpose of dramatic art.

Again Arthur Miller comes to mind. More of his plays have been successfully adapted to the Indian setting than any other American playwright's. For the same reason that After the Fall and other original versions are well received, adaptations such as JanaikerMrityu are well received. 1n other words, his themes are universal. Miller has a compassion for all humanity and is able to transcend the reality of a single situation into a reality embracing all mankind.

A few years ago, the Theatre Group in Bombay presented Sara Sansar or All My Sons. The title of the play itself expr~sses Miller's broad approach to life and people.

The setting of the play is World War II, but the subject of the play is the war only in so far as it is used as a frame of reference. He uses the war to give his characters a field of reality in which to test their moral convictions. Miller's thesis is that social responsibility should be stronger than individual self-interest. This belief expresses itself in the theme that in spite of exte~uating circumstances, man cannot avoid his moral obligation to society as a whole.

In 1964, the Theatre Group premiered The Crucible in Delhi in honour of World Theatre Day and before the late Prime Minister Nehru. It later played to packed houses in Bombay.

Often referred to as one of theatre's greatest moralists, Miller uses this play to criticize the evils of society as they affect the individual. Set in -seventeenth-century America-a

period of witch-hunts, mass rioting, religious fanaticismand written during the 1950's-a period of "McCarthyism," public trials and condemnations-the theme is actually timeless, and could easily be applied to today's world. Miller maintains that "the sin of public terror is that it divests man of conscience, of himself." Miller's concern was with what might be termed "mass psychology." It is frightening to realize that such destructive currents of fear and hate can be set off by what in The Crucible is a young girl's lie to save he.rself.

Director Padamsee chose to present his characters dressed entirely in black and white costumes. Besides being reminiscent of the traditional dress of the seventeenth century Pilgrims, the heaviness and colour depict starkly the dark and tragic mood of the play.

Miller is by no means the only American playwright to achieve success on the Indian stage. Over the years, Indian amateur theatre groups have presented such well-known American plays as You Can't Take It With You, The Man Who Came to Dinner, The Children's Hour and Philadelphia Story-to name only a few.

Often the popularity of an American playwright in India is determined not only' by the universality of his themes, but also by the excitement and fascination created by his own personality as expressed through his work. Tennessee Williams is such a playwright.

Before leaving the Theatre Unit in Bombay to become director of the National School of Drama and Asian Theatre Institute, E. Alkazi directed a unique production of Suddenly Last Summer by Williams.

Using a terrace surrounded on three sides by water, Alkazi was able to create the kind of setting necessary for the play. In his own words, it was a "fetid, tropical set, full of arty objects. The play needs a primitive background, because it has a certain blood quality to it."

Both intellectually and physically, Suddenly Last Sum_mer is a challenge to any cast. It is the story of a sensitive boy whose unnatural relationship with his mother and her superficial tampering with art ends in his death by cannibalism.

The sensationalism of Williams' plots and his inevitable redeeming female figure are things which have universal appeal not because they are familiar, but because they are exciting and interesting.

There are signs of a new approach to American theatre -an Indian approach. Taken out of its comfortable setting at home, American theatre is being made acceptable in a new and foreign environment by energetic artists of the theatre who welcome the chance to interpret it for themselves and to make it meaningful for an audience with different cultural and theatrical traditions.

Suddenly Last Summer was staged by the Theatre Unit of Bombay against "a fetid, tropical set, full of arty objects," above. Primitive background was necessary to underline the play's macahre quality.

Death o.f a Salesman

is a play which retains its original flavour and universal message even in translation. A Bengali adaptation of the work, Janaiker Mrityu, has been playing to packed houses in Calcutta for over a year.

Giant carrier of grain

LENGTH: 287 METRES WEIGHT: 108,590 GROSS TONS

WHEN THE S. S. Manhattan dropped anchor recently in Madras harbour, it gained more attention than most ships receive in the busy South Indian port. The Manhattan is the largest U.S. commercial tanker afloat-nearly three times as long as the Qutab Minar is high. From bow to stern, the 108,590-ton tanker is 287 metres in length, 42 metres wide.

In spite of its great size, the Manhattan is faster than many smaller cargo ships. It covered the 12,000 miles from New Orleans to Madras in only twenty-nine days, cutting ten days off the time required by most other grain ships. Even with full cargo holds, the Manhattan can travel all around the world without refuelling.

The super-tanker unloaded the largest single shipment of wheat ever to arrive in India-72,500 tons-enough to meet the food requirements of six lakhs of people for a year. For nearly a fortnight, the Manhattan's unloading gear sucked grain from its fifteen compartments. Too big to tie up at the Madras pier, the massive consignment was transferred to eight smaller vessels berthed at the port.

But giant that it is, the Manhattan is only the eighth largest ship in the world. Japan's Tokyo Maru at 150,000 deadweight tons and 305-metre length tops the list of tankers.

The largest ship afloat is the U.S. aircraft carrier Enterprise.

END

t!fIbJzL t••.•••

·1tll· li

,"

.'

The Manhattan is as long as this train which has 34 wagons, each 8.5 metres in length. One hundred such trains would be required to carry the super-tanker's load of 72,500 tons of grain.

summer

1965

fOCI.s

Queenie

My thirty children FOR ALMOST a year I have been making weekly trips out to Mother Theresa's Home for Unwanted Children on the other side of Old Delhi. I have approximately thirty children there from assorted backgrounds, , . both religious and class. They range in age from new-born babies to teen-agers, though most of the older ones spend a lot of time at a boarding school in another section of Delhi.

When I arrive at the front door each Saturday morning, I'm greeted with an excited chorus of "Hello Aunty!" Only one of the children speaks English, but language is not much of a handicap. I speak a few phrases of Hindi and find that communication with children is much less complex than that with adults, While I am at the Home I do an assortment of things. On arrival I usually play with the children and dole out plenty of affection which they seem starved for. Then I do whatever the sister finds needs doingsuch as clipping their nails, bathing them, taking them to the bathroom and so on. When lunch'time rolls around, I feed the younger ones who haven't yet learned to feed themselves. Before I leave my children, I put them to bed for their afternoon naps.

Not all of my children are normal-which makes my visits that much more stimulating, There are a few mentally retarded children, and some with physical handicaps. There is one handsome-looking boy about five years old whose legs are as big around as two-inch pipes. He walks on his hands and legs, so he gets around quite well, but I've been watching him closely and I feel certain that crutches or braces would be all he would need to walk upright. This shall be my next project.

This summer while at home in the States I conducted a drive for my children, obtaining clothing, a few toys, and a little bit of money.

I was pleased with the people's response and am looking forward to the day when the clothes and toys will arrive so that I can distribute them.

-Mary

Ann Cummings Age 17

Her blue mystical gems Shine ruby red, She looks on With a fixed gaze Full of purpose Ancj curiosity.

Her long black protrusions Stiffen in the perplexity Of it all.

She emits a questioning cry And waits in the blackness For the uncertain reply Which never seems to come.

Cautiously her mechanical legs Carry her poised body Straight to her next destination.

Here she mischievously glances At me.

Almost guiltily she begins Her rhythmic purring.

For a moment her feline features Seem to grin and then Comes the famous Cheshire smile Far friendlier than the Mona Lisa.

She snuggles against me Her motor at its loudest, And ever so slowly she closes Her beautiful eyes, Forgetting her imagined Enemies and perils.

-Judy Isenberg Age 15

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continued

A visit White Reflect the walls In antiseptic aid To hidden substitutes for suns And trap in sterile warmth A smell as sick As clean.

Quiet The filtered air Is whispering with breaths As tired and old as wrinkled lips That leave them wandering Around pale sheets And steel.

Then A sound The thick door swings And ancient eyes look up Regarding young facsimiles Till unaccustomed smile Has wetly blurred Their view.

Which witch?

ONE DAY I was sitting on my front porch. All of a sudden up came a boy.

"Hello, boy," he said to me. "My name is Peter. I have two witch sisters.

One of them is called Black Cat and the other's name is Spooky. One of them is forty-two years old."

I asked, "Which witch is forty-two years old?"

"One of them can fly through the moon."

I asked, "Which witch can fly through the moon?"

"I was so glad to meet you, but I must be leaving now."

So he went away with a wave of his hand. As for me, I was still wondering which witch was which.

-Marshall

Decker Age 9

Outstretched The bony hand Does stroke the smoother cheek Then falls to join the stronger grip While aged voice attempts A muffled word Cannot.

Soon The eyes are shut And aging hand at last Consents to loose its grip on young Who leaves the spotless room Of whispers pale Confined.

-David

Lazaroff Age 17

The power of perseverance I WAS at the impressionable age of thirteen when I happened across a certain quotation. Those are the years when each of us longs to dabble his brush around a bit, attempting, though at first feebly, to create his own horizon.

The brain is drawn from its lethargy into the dynamically enthralling realm of knowledge; and all at once the mind is bombarded with Einstein, Michelangelo, Mozart, Schweitzer, and da Vinci-to name only a few, until the world of genius completely encompasses it. The romantic vacuities become stuffed with idealisms, and the soul gradually yields to fantasy. To abide in a world of reverie, to believe in natural greatness, to accept that "somethingfor-nothing" is really delightful-and yet how false!

The absurdity of it all was revealed to me first through this quotation: Genius, that power which dazzles mortal eyes, is oft but perseverance in disguise.

And after reflecting upon it, I began to see its truth. We are all blessed with a certain amount of inherent talent, but its development depends, to a great extent, upon our own aims and ambitions. Although that phenomenon, the "natural genius," occurs every now and then, the most common geniuses are merely those who have utilized their individual skills to their greatest ability. They have cultivated a large number of interests, and have followed them up with specialized research. A few have limited their work to one field, but they have likewise given of themselves in entirety to their pursuit of knowledge or perfection.

This sweat-and-blood aspect of genius is an extremely real one: too many of us are content to sit back and leave progress to the Einsteins of the world.

Are we content with mediocrity-or are we afraid of a little honest toil? For my part, I should hate to arrive at the day when I could find nothing to challenge my perseverance.

-Kristin Wallin Age 18

African â&#x20AC;˘ â&#x20AC;˘ ImpreSSIons WHAT a marvellous day! We went down to the crater floor in a hired Land Rover at about 8 a.m. We saw literally hundreds of gazelle, zebra, wildebeast, and very many ostriches, and beautiful birds. We also saw a couple of rhino. The female wanted to charge us, but the male, who was huge, wouldn't let her. Shortly thereafter, we saw one hippo on the lakeside. He was cute-all 1,500 pounds of him! The Land Rover roof had two large openings so that we could stand and look out. They were great. At about 9 a.m. we crossed to the corner opposite the lodge mountain, went off the road, and started thrashing around in some bushy country, looking for lions.

Dad spotted the first one-a lioness. The driver guide quickly found the rest of the pride-a male, two more lionesses, and about ten or twelve cubs. They didn't seem very alarmed at us. We got within fifteen feet of them, and started snapping away. The big male, who was a beauty, but a little past his prime, let us take his picture for a few minutes, waited while another Land Rover came up and those people took pictures for a few minutes and then walked away to rest under a bush about fifty feet away, keeping an eye on us.

Dad says he has to let us take his picture because he gets a thousand dollars a month commission (in dollars because Crater Lodge is owned by Americans). A lady in the other Land Rover started to film us taking pictures.

Dad blew her a kiss and took her picture. We went around a bush to get a

better look at a lioness. All the cubs in the pride were with her, and some were feeding. We got within ten feet, and the lioness really charged us. She growled, showed her teeth, and sent the cubs off.

After seeing the lions, we went to the top of a hill which has a marvellous view of the whole crater. I spotted a rhino and a lion about a mile and a half off with the monocular. About fifteen minutes later we started back across the valley. On the way, we stopped and saw two lionesses lying in the grass, waiting for some lunch to walk by. They were near to where I had spotted one earlier, and one of them must have been the one I saw. We saw two more rhino, or the same two again. They didn't look very aggressive, though. It's amazing how many animals there are in this ten-by-twelve-mile valley. There must be thousands each of wildebeast, zebra, and gazelle here, not to mention lions, leopards, waterduck, eland, other deer, and elephants in season.

We stopped for lunch and a rest in Lerai Forest at twelve noon on the nose. At 1:15 we left, going around the forest two-thirds of the way and thence across the valley, up Windy Gap Road, which is terribly steep, and Gut. Once back at the Lodge, we did what little packing was left (only rocks from the Crater), loaded the car, and left for Lake Manyara Hoteljust before 4:30, had tea, and then a swim. The water was freezing, but the inner tubes were warm. This is a nice hotel. Dad has seen an ashtray in the bar that he likes, I have a penchant for the lamp shades, and Mom has fallen in love with the fireplace.

We had a good dinner. The service was excellent and the cuisine good.

It was also two and a half shillings more than usual- 12(50; therefore, I had to eat twenty-five per cent more than usual.

-Chris Wilder Age 15 Note: This is an extract from a diary kept by Chris Wilder during a vacation in Africa. He was killed in an automobile accident shortly after.

foeus

con tin lied

Shastriji The fountain ran over with flowers to cover the last remnant, The last thought.

Strife unended Famine Yet here once stood And stooped and knelt All of India.

Hordes (what an old-fashioned word for this ancient tradition) Piled high Caste upon caste.

Neatly grouped in frenzied crowds Enclosed by waving armies of battered tree trunks brown, black against the night.

Rippling laughter wrougbt from seas of grief.

Among a starried throng Lay my soul.

Jaded man in bat, He knew Yet he didn't expose No-not he.

Myriads (where'd that come from?)

Thronged, encircled, wept.

My eyes burnt From ashes fleeing the holocaust, Sweat appeared, Trickled, gushed, A fat old lady blew smoke in my face.

Dazed from touch of man Of people red and white And poor.

Captured in a den of flesh, No escape for unborn minds.

Follow that hatted manHe knows.

\

-Dan

Perrelli Age 18

!'d like to be a surgeon I'd like to be a surgeon Always cutting people up; With covered head and covered mouth In case I would throw up!

-Mauro

Calingo Age 12

The long road From this mountain top I see, How far the road must carry me.

The road is long, and arduous too, But I must see my journey through.

I look before me with a smile, And measure each oncoming mile.

The phoenix and the carpet THERE ARE basically three refuges from the deluge of bad literature offered nowadays. One can read nothing at all, which many people do but which is no fun. One can read classics which are nice but somewhat constricting. Or one can read children's books.

This is a somewhat "In" practice: "May I please have my copy of The Hobbit back?" and so on; but some of the books, the good ones, are lovely to read through an afternoon with P. L. Travers or Enid Blyton calming, harmless, and equilibrium-restoring.

And, furthermore, one gets as much philosophy, social commentary and character study out of Huckleberry Finn as out of, say, Desiree. Could not Alice in Wonderland represent the individual's struggles against a cruel and mad world, and does not Mary Poppins teach those worthy virtues of patience and acceptance?

E. Nesbit, one of the more admired and widely-read children's writers, deals in The Phoenix and the Carpet with four English children who have an Adventure happen to them. They find a Phoenix egg in a magic carpet which their mother has unwittingly brought home for their nursery floor. Of course the egg hatches and immediately befriends them, and it and the children go off to faraway lands on the carpet. The point of the book is that adventures happen not only for themselves but for their lessons. And the lessons are taught; the Phoenix daily administers philosophy and good sense to the children. The latter grow mentally and emotionally as their acquaintance with it continues.

The Phoenix is a delightful friend and leader, having an enjoyable combination of wisdom and naivete. The children are also well done, each with his own distinctive personality. The style is extremely readable and the adventures quite original. This is one of the best children's books (and authors) around.

-Deborah Taub Age /5

I have many, many stops to make, Along this road that I must take.

Yet, I have but one end in view, And it is known to only few.

I look before me with a smile, And measure each oncoming mile. .Man is in conflict over ways, To better his unhappy days.

This, alone, makes up my road, And this alone, makes up my load.

I look before me with a smile, And measure each oncoming mile.

Above all else, I wish to find, A Northwest Passage for mankind.

A passage through which man may sail, And find a world without travail, I look before me with a smile, And measure each oncoming mile.

From this mountain top I see, How far the road must carry me.

The road is long, and arduous too.

But J must see my journey through.

I look before me with a smile, And measure each oncoming mile.

-Steve Parr Age 15

foeus

continued

Sonnet to Orpheus Once, A slender stag, Breathing clear air, Looked into a mirror And saw a unicorn (Which glowed silver and had lucidly bottomless eyes).

He raised his head Until he found the one gleaming horn; There was no paint between his eyes.

Once a loose-limbed stag Breathing the sky Saw in the silver mirror A translucently fragile unicorn.

Once this stag gazed into a mirror And saw each of his hairs turning to silver And gleaming And he saw that each hair Was a singular light.

Once a moving stag Went into a mirror And saw reflected a singular silver unicorn Which was suspended in the silver mirror And in the not silver stag Which was in the minor And in the silver unicorn.

-Hadea Kriesberg Age 17

It was the dusk of a winter's day IT WAS the dusk of a winter's day. The sky in its winter majesty was a blaze of brilliant colours. A pink cloud sat high in the sky like the golden throne of a large non-existent empire without its ruler. The snow-capped mountains in the east were the first to bow down to the throne. The murmuring sea welcomed the stars as the day came to an end in fiery glory.

Where he stood on the high bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, he could see the President liner Cleveland slowly slipping into the bay. He imagined himself on the deck of the large ship, looking up in awe at the blazing beauty of the Golden Gate Bridge, resting his eyes on the dark green beauty of the forests. With a convulsive jerk he snapped himself back to reality. He would never have the opportunity to stand on the deck of that liner or any other, no matter what size.

He looked over the edge of the bluff, it was a long way down to the hard sand, maybe two hundred feet. He thought back over his life. The jail sentences, paroles and meagre jobs that cOlild never keep him out of trouble.

How many freight trains had he hopped? He lost count a year back. How many miles had he covered since he left Florida? He only knew it was a long way. He had to face the fact that he was a bum, a vagrant with no hope of finding a new job or new friends. The opportunities of the west had gone with the Pony Express. There ~as no place for him in this world. Again he looked over the edge. A sickening green swirl seemed to take all of his senses away. He staggered back from the edge, turned and ran. He ran blindly, head on into the inky blackness. He kept running until the deep sand tripped him and he fell. He slept on the warm sand until it was early morning. He staggered to his feet weak with hunger.

How should he get some food? Beg, work, or steal. He wouldn't beg, he couldn't stand the disgusted pitiful glares. Work would never do, it never did. That left stealing. He headed into town and found a bakery shop. No one was in sight. He took off his ragged, threadbare coat and wrapped it around his hand. With a last look around he thrust his hand through the plate glass. He grabbed a loaf of fresh bread and ran to the corner. After a mile of casual walking he reached the freight yards. He climbed into a box car closing the big sliding door behind him. He ate half of his bread and saved the rest. He slept on a burlap bag in the dusty corner.

When he awoke the train was skimming swiftly along. Where it was moving to he did not know and he did not care.

-Reed Finfrock Age 19

Come sail the skies!

Ritual The made dark-brilliant line-mob moves on through the glowing street glowing from neon light _candle light the mob happy-wild immersed in ritual all so unconscious escaping from one night into other.

Away from madness into more madness, to a more unreal state far from the stench of the gutter lining the road.

To eras past (of glory) forever living in the minds of nation makers, of money makers.

The street is laced with dancing people, the dancers dance, the drummers dance the sadhu smiles all knowing in orange saffron, leading a dirty bullock garlanded with jasmine.

The band blares the mob blares the tune is lost.

The crowd sings, screams.

The drum goes boom.

Boom boom boom boom here comes the groom (boom) proud man on hired horse unsmiling, shrouded in flowers and glittering tinsel, bedecked in borrowed jewellery and in white turban crowned with a sad-feather.

The night is hot with people the procession goes wildly on vanishing noisily into the perfumed night.

-John Blee Age 16

SITTING ON the ground it appears a small, fragile toy. This light, red collection of wood and fabric sits poised, like a bird ready for takeoff. There is nobody in the cockpit and the day is beautiful. Above is an almost clear, blue sky. Off to the left are a few puffs of white clouds and there is a gentle breeze stirring down the runway.

So come now-swing your leg over and hop in, you're about to do some real flying. After strapping in and checking controls, we signal for the launch.

The yellow flag waves and soon, far down at the end of the field, the winch begins to roll in the three-thousand-foot cable that will pull us up. The winch roars now and we bump along picking up speed. "Woosh," like an eagle we swoop gracefully up into the sky. The air whips over the glider and we surge for altitude.

Before long the altimeter reads seven-hundred-fifty feet and our nose drops slightly as the winch, far below, cuts power as a signal for us to release.

I reach for the yellow ball on the panel and give it a tug. There is a loud click as the cable falls away.

No longer are we a kite on a string; we are free-free to soar with the birds and to explore the air currents that whip up and down all over the skies. This is flying as you have never dreamed of it: no vibration, no tension, and no sounding engine. The noise from the launch is gone and there remains only the soft whistle of the air. We swing around to the left and fly over the tracks that border Safdarjang Airport. We have plenty of height so let's try a turn. A gentle bank, a little rudder, and she's turning smooth and easy.

The view is tremendous. Here you are not cramped up with one small window. The whole world is around you. Look straight ahead: there is the Ashoka, and off to the left you can make out the American Embassy.

Enough of this sightseeing, though. We have ajob to do, that is to land.

We cross the road in front of the airport at three hundred feet and slip into the final turn. We pull open the brakes, large flaps on the wings, and our bird trembles a little. Slipping to the left slightly we line up the runway. We pass over the fence at fifty knots. It's time now to check out descent. Easing back on the stick, we flare out and bump neatly onto the grass. Rumbling along, the little red bird slides to a stop. The ride's over. Want to go again?

-Steve Heare Age 18

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continued

"The purpose in life is undoubtedly to know oneself."

THIS STATEMENT by Gandhi summarizes in a sentence a concept about which volumes have been written. It is an interesting and popular principle which is verified often in our daily lives.

As children, we are drifters in the world. Our entire existence revolves around a single being, that is, ourself. Our pleasure, our sadness, our contentment, our discomfort all rest on our own emotions which, though sometimes aroused by others, take on isolated importance after their creation.

Later, as we mature and our scope widens, we begin to include others in this sphere of interest: our parents, our friends, our neighbours. Now we begin, for the first time, to associate our feelings with the attitudes and actions of those around us. This tendency increases as we grow, often throwing us into a tumult of conflicting emotions by the time we reach our teens.

It is at this time that this precept of Gandhi regarding a knowledge of ourselves is most relevant and significant. For when we achieve this inner chaos, we become m~re susceptible to ¡a method of alleviating it. It is now that we should apply that exercise. Rather than continuing to follow an

aimless life without a foundation, we must seek within ourselves, discover our weaknesses, establish our ideals, and understand our idiosyncrasies. In this manner, certain peace will prevail in us, a confidence that at least we have a direction.

It is this direction that gives our life value. From it, we may extend to improve our own faults, to become aware of what we, having some idea as to our own capacities and capabilities, can do to amend the faults in the world about us, and to undertake in a practical procedure to remedy these deficiencies.

For, without a knowledge of ourself, our abilities, our disabilities, and our dependability, we can achieve nothing in our life. But with this awareness, we can attain whatever goal we set. Therefore, the purpose of life is indeed to know oneself.

India WHAT ARE the things I wi~l treasure most after I leave? The sight of haze settling over Delhi like a warm winter blanket. The excitement of the long-expected first shower of the monsoon, and the magical transformation of the arid land into a brilliant green jungle. The smell of marigolds in a cold, wet Christmas garland. A sunset in Kashmir; the mountaintops shining golden long after the valley is dark. A very old villager, a friend from the first words, talking of the "good old days" of the British Raj, when rice was an anna a pound. A small town where we were accepted as honoured guests, sharing food and home for several days. Small children watching eagerly as their grandmother cooked orange pumpkins for breakfast. Bullock carts stacked high with cauliflower, in a caravan winding its way past our house. Being chased by monkeys at the Taj; chasing sheep and goats in the hills.

Bright-eyed boys, curious as kittens, pathetically friendly as puppies, and bearing a remarkable resemblance to my small brother.

Hide-and-seek in a king's university. Stargazing on a cold night, where once astronomers pondered.

-Connie Senitf

Age 18

prefer the grande dame to the 'cock-sure and sometimes insolent boy. The old lady may die, though; only her mementoes, her knickknacks and curios will be left. But in her wil she has left a rich legacy to the young man.

Some day soon he will mature, and come into his fortune. His life is all ahead of him, full of promise. He is a trouble, now, at times. But when 1 am old, I will be proud to say. I knew him as a child.

India

These are my treasures of India. The brass, the silks, the saris will wear out and be replaced by utilitarian goods, but these memories will grow in value each year.

India An old lady with proud memories of former fame. A youth, a pimply-faced adolescent, searching for himself and not really knowing where to look. Everything gives witness to this schizophrenia, and I, like many,

She seems an old friend now, after six years.

A friend 1 can be frank with; 1 can criticize without causing a tantrum. She bothers me, sometimes. Often we quarrel for days on end, and I am tempted to call it all off and go home in a huff. But then I go for a walk, or talk to a newcomer, or think of some of the happy times we've had, and I make up. 1 know when I leave here, I shall remember these beautiful days of winter, when she smiles and shows me her best side. I will forget her summer tantrums and her weepy monsoon periods. We will keep in touch, India and I, and our friendship will last.

-Cherie

Stud wel Age /7

Dear Sir: I had the opportunity of VISiting the United States of America last year as a student ofElectrical Engineering and attended various institutions for about six months. Some of my impressions of the U.S. system of education may be of interest to your readers, especially those who intend to go to the United States for higher studies. _ In America education is decentralized, and diversified; it is controlled by local, not national authorities. There are many institutions supported by States, private organizations and religious communities. Each American college or university is headed by a President or Chancellor who is assisted by Deans and controlled by a Board of Governors usually called trustees or regents. Trustees of State-supported colleges and universities are appointed by the Governor with the approval of the State Legislature.

In every-day usage the terms college and university are used interchangeably. However, there is a distinction between the two. The college is the basic school of higher education from which other American educational institutions developed. Although most colleges offer courses in many fields including the sciences, they are called liberal arts colleges.A college may be an independent institution or a part of a university, for a university is made up of a group of schools which include an under-graduate liberal arts college, graduate schools and professional schools. Some universities also have schools which offer under-graduate professional programmes in fields such as business administration and agriculture.

It takes about sixteen years to get a Bachelor's degree in America while in India it takes only fourteen. The U.S. liberal arts college offers a four-year study programme leading to a Bachelor's degree in Arts or Sciences.

Most of the students in the United States take up part time or full jobs during the summer and very few students attend summer schools. Many prefer to work during the summer so that they earn a part of their expenses of the academic year.

Foreign students also work during the summer

vacations but they have to get prior permission from the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service with the help of the Foreign Student adviser of their college or university. No foreign students are permitted to work during their first six months' stay in the United States.

The attitude of the American professor towards his students is characterized by informality and friendliness. Professors are interested in their students and devote a good part of their time to answering individual questions and offering guidance after class hours. The method of teaching in most colleges and universities is based un -the lecture system, supplemented by reading assignments and class discussions between the professor and students. Science courses include lectures and laboratory periods; art courses generally include lectures and classes in which the students work with visual media.

Enrolment in graduate schools (i.e., colleges for post-graduate studies) in the United States has greatly increased in the past few decades. An important factor in this increase in post-graduate study is the raising of academic standards for prospective teachers. Within the last twenty years many school systems have established the Master's degree as the minimum requirement for secondary school teachers. A doctorate is generally considered essential for college professors.

The establishment of higher standards in many other professions for government and business positions, and the increased number of women participating in public life are additional reasons for the increased enrolment in graduate schools.

Post-graduate work leading to a Master of Arts (M.A.) or Master of Science (M.S.) degree requires a minimum of one or two years' study.

In fields such as engineering, journalism and business administration, a two-year programme of study is usually required to obtain a Master's degree. Degrees for Doctor of Philosophy (Ph.D.), Doctor of Education (Ed.D.) and Doctor of Science (Sc.D.) require a minimum of two years' study beyond the Master's degree, but in mo'st fields longer study is necessary. Requirements for the Doctorate often include demonstrating a reading knowledge of one or more foreign languages, usually French, German or Spanish.

Post-graduate studies are conducted through lectures and seminars and through research under professional guidance. Graduate study leading to a Doctorate especially emphasizes original research and is an intensive, individualized form of study. Research has become one of the chief functions of the graduate school. Universities are carrying on research in all fields of study and are extending their services to business organizations, government agencies and other nonacademic and academic organizations.

Many graduate schools make assistantships available to candidates for post-graduate degrees.

Assistantships are in a sense employment opportunities in academic "jobs." An assistant's duty may limit the time available to him to pursue his own studies and prolong the period necessary to earn a degree. The work ranges from grad-

I

ing papers or serving as a laboratory technician to teaching freshman courses or doing specialized research.

The teachers college is a type of professional school which prepares students for elementary and secondary school teaching. There has been a recent trend among teachers colleges to broaden their programmes so that they resemble those of liberal arts colleges, and many liberal arts colleges offer teaching training programmes. Courses in this field are usually called education courses.

Institutes of technology specialize in science and technology. Many of these schools have postgraduate programmes.

It will be seen that the organization of higher education in America differs in many respects from that in India. It is important that, while avoiding blind imitation, we in this country should adopt some of the methods and practices which have proved so successful in the United States, and it is encouraging to note that our educational authorities have become alive to the need for change in the existing system.

Brijendra S. Chaudhri P. O. Kabsara Dist. Ajmer

Dear Sir: ...

It was not my intention to point out mistakes, but only to ensure that the articles appearing in SPAN are faultless. I felt that the concluding sentence in paragraph 8 on page 30 of the June issue was slightly defective in its construction, that there was perhaps an unintended interposition of a few words in printing, and that it would read better if it were: "Under Dr. Reddick's guidance, the programme-which is financed by PL-480 funds in India-grew from an annual budget of about two million rupees to nearly seven million rupees, and a staff of three to a staff of fifty-three."

Grammatically, the sentence as published is not incorrect. The reading of it, however, appeared to be a bit clumsy. It reminded me of a letter from my son who wrote: "Dear Father, I am glad and sorry to inform you that I have passed and failed in shorthand and typewriting respectively."

K. P. Krishnamurthi Kurseong District Darjeeling West Bengal Editor's Note: The original sentence reads: "Under Dr. Reddick's guidance, the programme-which is financed by PL-480 funds in India-grew from about an annual budget of about two million rupees and a staff of three to nearly seven million rupees and a staff of fifty-three." SPAN admits that the sentence in question is awkward, willingly concedes that Mr. Krishnamurthi's version is an improvement.

AT THE SEASHORE and on city sidewalks kids are finding new ways to go faster and faster. The latest high-speed surfing vehicle is a wooden disc coated on the bottom with plastic. Putting it down at water's edge, the surfer

Away thcy go Courtesy of LIFE

:~i~::::~~n:onrgal;:~c:~~~~:~e:~ metre ride. Other youngsters get the same thrill from a sidewalk sport called skateboarding.

With tapered pieces of wood mounted on roller-skate wheels, they can do all kinds of fancy manoeuvres, or just zoom down the street at an exhilarating twenty-four kilometres per hour. On sea or cement, the new rides mean more fun for youngsters and more gray hair for parents!

END

THE SEARCH FOR WAYS

TO

KEEP YOUTHFUL

by GEORGE A. W. BOEHM Courtesy of FORTUNE

Gerontologists are concentrating on making life more comfortable for the elderly.

As an eminent geriatrician puts it: "If we attain our goals, life in old age will be healthier, and more enjoyable-altogether better, but only for a little bit longer."

EVERY MAN is walking along a narrow path at the edge of a precipice. As he starts out fresh, strong and alert, he strides firmly in a straight line. But then he begins to tire, and his steps falter a bit. Occasionally he staggers or stumbles, and the more tired he gets, the more uneven becomes his gait. Sooner or later, owing partly to his growing instability and partly to chance, he weaves to the edge of the precipice and plunges to his death.

This analogy aptly describes the process of aging. As the body becomes increasingly vulnerable to disease, accidents, extremes of temperature, and other threats in the environment, the chance of death at any given moment accelerates.

Yet though the body dies a little every hour, it seems well designed to stay young for a good deal longer than it actually does. Many parts of it, such as red blood cells, are constantly renewed. Others have a remarkable capacity for self-repair when damaged. Nerve and muscle tissue, which are incapable of making fresh cells, are nevertheless built to last longer than the normal life span of the species. What is it that fails? And why?, These are the key questions being asked by the growing group of scientists who are engrossed in gerontology, the study of aging. They represent many disciplines of science, from biochemists who specialize in the chemical reactions within individual cells to sociologists who investigate man's relationship to his community. They are linked by a common purpose: the study of all the aspects of aging, from cells to society. The enormous breadth of this research is essential to gerontology, for as Chauncey D. Leake of the University of California's San Francisco Medical Centre explains: "You can't say how the mob will act by knowing how the individual will act, or vice versa."

The primary aim of gerontology at this point is to discover and evaluate all the factors that make the man on the precipice stagger as time goes by. A good many of these factors have already been identified: .

• Genetic inheritance definitely plays a role. People with long-lived parents have a somewhat greater life expectancy than people with short-lived parents. In other words, it helps to start life as a good egg.

• Poor eating habits may accelerate aging. There are indications, in fact, that current practices in infant feeding may be harmful.

• Ionizing radiation-even in the smallest doses-decreases the life span. And it is impossible to avoid accumulating some radiation from cosmic rays, medical and dental X-rays, even the luminous dial of a wristwatch.

• Cells sometimes make "errors" when they reproduce.

This leads to an accumulation of mutant cells that are unable to survive or may even become malignant.

• Civil war breaks out within the body. Aberrations occur in cells that activate the immune mechanism, which combats bacteria, viruses and other invading micro-organisms. Then the body's weapon against disease is turned against the very cells it is meant to defend.

• Some irreplaceable cells die; in fact, millions per day are lost forever.

• Connective tissue becomes increasingly hard and impervious, like vulcanized rubber, and this may interfere with the distribution of nutrients and disposal of wastes.

• Throughout life the body is exposed to a procession of accidents-e.g., a bout of pneumonia, a broken leg, a severe burn, or a period of great emotional stress. The cumulative effect of such "biological insults" may well hasten aging.

The dean of U.S. gerontology, Nathan Shock of the National Institutes of Health (NIB), doubts whether any single factor accounts primarily for aging. He believes that all avenues are worth exploring. Only after they have thoroughly studied all the things that might contribute to aging and worked out the complex interrelationships among them will gerontologists truly understand the aging process. And then they may be able to do something about it.

"More than the sum of the parts" Gerontologists are no longer looking for a panacea that would greatly extend life, as scientists were some forty or fifty years ago when massive hormone injections and yoghurt diets were in vogue. Now they have little hope oflengthening life to any great degree. All the drugs, vaccines, and surgical techniques developed down the centuries have not appreciably increased the life expectancy of people who have already attained old age (though they have significantly increased the number of people who reach old age). So gerontology is concentrating on making life more livable for the . elderly. As Ralph Goldman, chief of geriatrics at the University of California at Los Angeles hospital, puts it: "If we attain our goals, life in old age will be healthier, and more enjoyable-altogether better, but only for a,little bit longer."

One mystery that especially fascinates gerontologists is why one individual ages so much faster than another.

Giuseppe Verdi, for example, composed two of his greatest operas after seventy. Winston Churchill took charge of the British war effort at sixty-six, a year past the mandatory retirement age of many organizations. Some men, on the other hand, are markedly tobogganing towards senility at the age of forty.

Gerontologists are convinced that there does exist a process-more probably a conglomeration of them-that represents pure aging as distinct from ordinary disease. It seems to obey the second law of thermodynamics, which says that the entropy deterioration of any system tends to increase with the passage of time. The appearance of cells under the microscope is highly suggestive evidence. In a given tissue of a young man all the cells look more or less alike; in an older person there is great diversity in shape, size and structure. Furthermore, disorder seems to increase with the complexity of the system. An old person's cells may appear pretty normal, but they generally don't work in harmony. That is to say, pieces of tissue are somewhat disorganized, whole organs more so, and the entire body even more so. "It seems to me," says Shock, "that loss in total performance is more than the sum of the parts. Small decrements add up to large debility."

In line with this, it has been observed that the disordering of aging begins when the ordering process of growth ends. Most species of higher animals have a normal life span of five to six times their growth period-although this would indicate that man, barring accidents and disease, should live to about 120. Animals that never stop growing don't seem to age at all. Tortoises, for example, continue to grow as continued

The theory that an individual is born with a certain reserve of energy has fallen out of favour. long as they live and apparently die only from acute disease or injuries. The same is true of the female plaice, a kind of flounder, but her less fortunate mate stops growing, and develops all the signs of aging.

For many years such phenomena led some scientists to explain the aging process as a gradual exhaustion of some vital substance that was stored when an animal developedsex hormones, for example. Others theorized that an individual is born with a certain reserve of energy, like a fully wound clock, that helps to keep him going until it is expended. In other words, a man could choose between a short but merry life and a long, placid existence. But this theory has fallen out offavour. "A man might just as well spend his life chasing trolley cars and girls," says Shock.

It starts in the cradle The study of human aging is under one major handicap: people are not convenient experimental subjects. They can't be kept under controlled conditions like rats in cages. Moreover, they live too long. In order to trace the full develop.ment of aging, gerontologists would like to examine large numbers of individuals periodically throughout their lifetimes. Several such "longitudinal" studies have been launched during the last few years. But as one gerontologist who is involved in one of these projects says: "It is discouraging to start an experiment when you know that your grandchild will publish the first conclusive findings."

One way around this dilemma is to carry" out "crosssectional" studies-i.e., compare a group of twenty-yearolds with a group of seventy-year-olds.

But this type of experiment has serious drawbacks. The older people were born in another century, had different kinds of housing and nutrition and medical care, experienced the traumas of two world wars and a disastrous economic depression.

Gerontologists aren't getting much help from practising physicians. "Gerontology is, in a sense, the inverse of medical practice," says Ralph Goldman. "The physician confronts an abnormal condition-such as an infection or a fracture-and tries to restore the patient to normal. The gerontologist approaches the normal condition of aging to learn what can be done to make it abnormal."

The segment of the medical profession that is contributing most to gerontology, paradoxically enough, is the one that deals with children. For aging has its roots in early childhood. By the age of twelve the lens of a child's eye begins to lose its flexibility. This impairs the eye's ability to adjust to distance, and so it might be said that the early adolescent is already becoming a candidate for bifocals. Some of the major diseases associated with old age seem also to originate surprisingly early. Autopsies of soldiers from eighteen to twenty-two killed in battle revealed an astonishing amount of debris deposited on the walls of the arteriesa strong indication that atherosclerosis was already fairly well developed. Thus it seems that at least some of the studies and applications of gerontology must start in the cradle.

Most gerontologists firmly believe paediatricians should re-examine their ideas on infant feeding. It is generally conceded that millions of U.S. adults eat too much for their own good. But what is not well recognized is that children, even babies, may be getting a diet so rich as to have a profound effect on aging much later in life.

Gerontologists are still rehashing all the implications of a provocative experiment done more than thirty years ago at Cornell University by Clive McCay. He started with two comparable groups of weanling rats. One group got the normal laboratory diet: plenty of proteins, vitamins and minerals plus all the sugar and lard they wanted. The other group got the same basic diet minus the sugar and lard. These were always hungry and they matured rather slowly, but in the long run they benefited enormously from their restricted intake of calories.

The underfed rats stayed extraordinarily sleek and active and lived about forty per cent longer than the animals fed normally. A few parts of their bodies-notably bones and eyes-seemed to age at the normal rate, but on the whole their youthfulness was strikingly prolonged. McCay's experiment has by now been repeated on perhaps a dozen other animal species. The results are always the same: a restricted diet starting soon after birth postpones aging and prolongs life. If the fasting is begun somewhat later-say, in early middle age-it helps some but not nearly so much .

It has never been possible to try similar studies on human beings. In countries where many children don't get enough to eat, their diet is usually badly unbalanced; moreover sanitation and medical care are often so poor as to more than offset any benefits from limited calories. Nevertheless, in places where nutritious food is plentiful, it might be wise to limit the amounts of whole milk, sugar and cereals in the diet of infants and young children. To be sure, modern feeding of the young seems to be producing a race of taller and sturdier men and women who mature earlier than their parents did.

"It's the chassis that gives way" One of the important findings of gerontology is that some parts of the body are more susceptible to aging than others. The master controls of the body-i.e., the brain and most of the system of endocrine glands-are remarkably resistant to aging. Barring damage from injury or disease, they usually continue to work efficiently well beyond the normal life span of a human being. The pituitary gland near the base of the brain generally compensates for any mild decline in the function of such glands as the thyroid and adrenals by issuing commands that adjust their hormone output to appropriate levels.

Aging does, however, cause one drastic change in the endocrine system: the production of sex hormones falls off.

In women the drop is sharp during menopause; in men it is much more gradual, beginning in early middle age and continuing indefinitely. Working with rats at Cornell University, Sydney Asdell has found that doses offemale hormones generally prolong life of both sexes, whereas male hormones shorten it. But he doesn't know why.

It has been common for physicians to prescribe female hormones to help many women through the physical and

emotional crisis of menopause. M. Edward Davis, chairman of obstetrics and gynaecology at the University of Chicago, believes the treatment should be continued throughout life.

A number of years ago he found that women continuing to get a hormone called stilbestrol had unusually little cardiovascular trouble. He says now: "It is within our power today to delay aging in women so that they can lead good healthy lives. We have nothing for men."

The size and complexity of man's brain are what make him the longest-lived mammal. Among all higher animals the ratio of brain weight to body weight pretty well determines longevity. Squirrels, for example, are the mental giants of the rodent family, and they live the longest.

Despite its steady loss of irreplaceable cells, the brain has plenty of reserve material and a remarkable power to readjust its circuitry. In fact, Ward Halstead, a psychologist at the University of Chicago, declares: "The built-in half. life of the brain is greater than the life of the individual. Ifwe could keep a steady supply of oxygen and nutriment (i.e., blood) to the brain, it should be good for a hundred years.

It's the chassis that gives way."

Nevertheless, some common changes in brain activity seem to reflect aging. For one thing, alpha waves, the basic electrical rhythm, gradually become slower, sometimes as early as the age offorty. As long as the slowing is confined to the temporal lobe (a region above the ear), where it usually begins, there is little or no impairment of function, according to Walter Obrist of Duke University in Durham, North Carolina. But when the slowdown diffuses to other parts of the brain, behavioural changes are likely to occur.

The problems of retirement

that eventually lead to infirmity and death are so much more common among the otd than the young that they constitute the gerontologist's richest source of clues to what makes man increasingly vulnerable. The most significant of these diseases are disorders of the cardiovascular system (the heart itself and the miles of "plumbing" that circulate blood), diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis and cancer.

The cardiovascular system is by far the weakest link in the human body. As the famous physician and medical philosopher Sir William Osler remarked: "A man is as old as his arteries." The heart itself is virtually incapable of self-repair. It consists almost entirely of muscle, and muscle cells-like nerve cells-do not normally divide and regenerate themselves. Once dead, they are gone forever. Besides, the timing of the heart, like that of an old automobile engine, is usually impaired with age. Nor.mally the atria beat a fraction of a second before the ventricles, and this so-called "atrial kick" promotes the flow of blood through the heart.

But in elderly people the atrial kick is often missing, making their hearts less efficient pumps.

What with the dropping efficiency of the heart and the constriction of vessels it is hardly surprising that the distribution of blood to other parts of the body declines more or less rapidly with age. The skeletal muscles of a boy of twelve get twice as much blood per ounce as those of an eighteenyear-old. By the age of twenty-five the flow has dropped to a third, and by sixty to a tenth. Hardin Jones of the University of California at Berkeley has observed that regular exercise helps to slow this precipitous decline, and he notes that people who exercise regularly have lower than average death rates.

Any considerable drop in blood supply is particularly damaging to the brain and kidneys. The brain, although it amounts to only two per cent of the body weight, accounts for twenty-five per cent of the oxygen consumption. Many cases of senile dementia result from the fact that the brain is not getting enough blood and hence not enough oxygen to function properly. The kidneys have a way of demanding adequate blood: when the supply is low they release a substance called angiotensin, which causes a general rise in blood pressure. This can result in renal hypertension and cause many other disorders in other parts of the body, including haemorrhages of the delicate blood vessels of the brain. Thus the gradual decline in the efficiency of blood circulation can lead to all sorts of complications, not necessarily directly affecting the cardiovascular system.

This change of rhythm may very well account for the fact that old people are markedly slower in many of their reactions. It shows up conspicuously in psychological tests where persons are required to memorize lists of words shown to them in rapid order or to punch a button immediately in response to a flash of light. Walter Surwillo of the National Institutes of Health believes that the rhythm of alpha waves may be comparable to some sort of clock. It simply takes a person so many "ticks" to reach a decision.

Carl Eisdorfer of Duke, working along much the same line, finds that old people tend to make errors of omission.

That is to say, instead of risking a wrong response, they more often give none at all. But if the pace of the tests is slowed down sufficiently, a group of healthy old people usually scores as well as youngsters. This suggests, of course, that "The body dies a little every day" old people are best suited for work they can do at their The efficiency of the body's internal plumbing is a facown pace. tor that varies with individuals. Some investigators link it Nevertheless, the stimulus of some sort of activity is directly to nutrition, and there is a theory, still very conessential to the well-being of most old people. This is why troversial, that a diet high in carbohydrates and animal fats people who have retired often have major psychological may have something to do with the formation of deposits on problems. There is no general rule. Some people thrive with artery walls. nothing special to do. Others, however, become emotionally Each day millions of individual cells in the body die fordisrupted and may even lapse abruptly into a kind of senility. ever-some because they have been injured in one way or Studies along this line are not yet conclusive, but some psychologists suspect that retirement is most likely to disturb â&#x20AC;˘ another, others because they have simply become decrepit.

In organs like the skin or liver, these events are usually high-ranking executives and others who have held responunimportant, for the dead cells are swiftly replaced by new sible jobs that carry high status. ones. But in organs where cell division is extremely rare, if Nobody actually dies of old age. But the major diseases continued

"The body dies a little every day," according to Nathan Shock, a distinguished gerontologist. not impossible, the loss of cells over a lifetime adds up to an impressive total. In the course of his adult life, a man may lose about thirty-five per cent of his muscle mass, and brain weight generally decreases by about ten per cent. As Shock says, "The body dies a little every day."

The pyramid of cell life In order to understand cell death, a number of biologists have been tracing the living process -back to the genetic material, which controls not only reproduction but, indirectly, the production of enzymes and other proteins that enable a cell to function. Briefly, the pyramid of cell life rests on deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA), a huge molecule containing the genes, which stays inside the cell nucleus. DNA serves as a template for making ribonucleic acid (RNA), which migrates to the outer parts of the cell. RNA, in turn, is the template on which proteins are synthesized.

In this chainlike process a number of things can go wrong. DNA can be so severely damaged-e.g., by radiation that actually fractures it-that it ceases to make RNA. According to the laws of chance, the number of such accidents must accumulate with age. .

But subtler aberrations are probably more common.

Verner J. Wulff of the Masonic Medical Research Laboratory in Utica, New York, has found that old cells generally contain considerably less RNA than young cells. Some of his recent experiments indicate that RNA production changes with age, possibly because parts of the DNA template be-come "clogged" or otherwise incapacitated. IQ.to rats he has injected an RNA raw material labelled with radioactive hydrogen. Soon after, the liver cells begin to manufacture RNA containing the radioactive material. Measurements of RNA radioactivity show that old cells incorporate the fresh raw materials faster than young ones.

This may seem odd, but to Wulff it suggests that old cells are simply pushing themselves hard to make enough RNA to survive. He draws an analogy of two automobile factories. One has two production lines; the other only one.

In order to keep pace with its competitor's output, the smaller factory must operate its production line twice as much. In an old cell, however, RNA production ultimately falls off to the point where the cell simply cannot synthesize enough proteins to keep functioning, and then it dies.

Wulff and F. Marott Sinex of the Boston (Massachu-setts) University School of Medicine are working on the idea that this kind of cell deterioration could be remedied by supplying cells with fresh and fully functional DNA. The problem is how to get the DNA into cell nuclei of living animals. Sinex heads a-group of scientists who have recently begun an attempt to do just that. They start with white or graying mice, whose DNA lacks the ability to command production of melanin, a black pigment. Then into a few hair follicles at a time they inject minute amounts of DNA that is known to promote melanin synthesis. It is still too early to expect results. But, says Sinex, "we would be overjoyed if we

could get just one black ring on one white hair."

Another possible cause of cell deterioration is the steady accumulation of a yellowish-to-black pigment called lipofuscin. It forms hard insoluble granules. In many old cells this debris occupies up to ten per cent of the cell's volume, and in some cases fifty per cent or more. No one has yet determined whether any specific damage is done by these clinkers, but any inert substance that takes up so much room can scarcely fail to interfere with a cell's natural functioning.

It is quite possible that the formation of lipofuscin can be partially counteracted. From what is known of its biochemistry, it seems to be produced by oxidation. The body, as it happens, contains an effective antioxidant: vitamin E. Massive doses of the vitamin taken throughout life might help delay aging.

The chief villain in the aging process, according to a vocal minority of gerontologists, is the commonest protein in th'e body, a compound called collagen. It accounts for about thirty per cent of the body's protein and is widely dispersed -in bone, skin, cartilage and other connective tissue, and in spaces between cells. Collagen changes drastically with age in a process chemically similar to the vulcanization of rubber. A baby's skin is soft and resilient because it has young collagen; an old person's skin is hard and less flexible because its collagen has aged.

Aside from causing skin to wrinkle, aging collagen may contribute broadly to the deterioration of the body. Robert Kohn of Western Reserve University points out that tough old collagen is not only rigid but relatively impermeable. He suspects that it may interfere seriously with the distribution of nutrients to cells in all parts of the body and the disposal of their waste products.

Once collagen has become thoroughly vulcanized, there is little hope of restoring it to its youthful condition. But Kohn has a theory that vulcanization can be impeded by a certain chemical extracted from garden peas. He is trying it on laboratory rats.

Where we stand today It is by such painstaking individual experiments that gerontologists are beginning to piece together a mosaic depicting the aging process and its underlying causes. Progress will be slow because there are so many ideas to explore and b~ecause definitive surveys of human beings will take decades to yield conclusive results. But work on such surveys is being expanded. The biggest one, conducted by Shock's group at the National Institutes of Health Gerontology Branch in Baltimore, Maryland, involves 500 volunteers, all men, who come in every eighteen months at their own expense for a battery of physiological and psychological tests that take two days. Because of a particular interest in genetic factors, he has recruited several father-son pairs and even a few grandfather-father-son groups.

Some gerontologists are already so confident that ways will be found to control the aging process that they are looking to the problems beyond-e.g., what roles can society find for a multitude of vigorous and able old people? But this worry still seems far off. "Gerontology," says Sinex, "is now at the stage of cancer and heart research about fifteen years ago."

A growing group of gerontologists is "beginningto piece together a mosaic depicting the aging process and its underlying causes.Progress will be slow because there are so many ideas to explore and because definitesurveys of human beings will take decades to yield conclusive results. But work on such surveys is being expanded."

Two Indian educators who recently completed a year's teaching at U.S. colleges have "made India come alive" for hundreds of young Americans.

Their visit was sponsored by a dynamic faculty exchange programme which is benefiting many students, teachers and universities in both countries.

WHO

Dr. Quillian, president of RandolphMacon Woman's College, discusses a college brochure with Mrs. Bhardwaj, right.

Others are Dr. Mary Chandy, second from left, and Miss B. Das Gupta, principals of Delhi's Miranda House and lndraprastha Coffege respectively. At far left, Mrs. Bhardwaj and a student, Martha Jane Daniel, exchange camera techniques.

BENEFITS THE MOST? THE SCENE is a traditional candlelight dinner at Massachusetts' Mount Holyoke College, situated in the picturesque Connecticut River Valley in the northeastern United States. The soft glow of the candles illuminates the brilliant saris worn by a group of American undergraduates.

It is their way of paying tribute to a popular visiting lecturer from India who, in four brief months, became a vital part of the New England college-Dr. Fatima Shuja'at of University College for Women in Hyderabad.

Eight hundred kilometres away in the southern city of Lynchburg, Virginia, where she, too, had been taken to the heart of an American college community, Mrs. Sushil Bhardwaj of Indraprastha College, Delhi, voiced her feelings: "At Randolph-Macon Woman's College I was so touched by the seventy-fifth anniversary celebration that I promised myself to be here on the centenary celebration if I live that long."

The two Indian educators-who have just returned to this country after a year of teaching at American colleges -were participants in a dynamic exchange programme that recognizes the common interests and concerns of women's colleges in India and the United States. Thirteen U.S. liberal At a dinner held in her honour by Randolph-Macon College students, Dr. Fatima Shuja'at demonstrates the correct way to drape a sari.

arts women's colleges have joined with six women's colleges in India to explore together new frontiers in the field of education.

The exploration has brought a new dimension to their appreciation and understanding of each other's cultures and has enriched the lives of hundreds of students III both countries.

Take, for example, the case of twenty-one-year-old Betty C. Morgan, a music student from Atlanta, Georgia.

"Contact with a warmly spontaneous person like Mrs. Bhardwaj," she explains, "has brought India so much closer to me and has made it a real place for me, rather than just a distant and unknown land."

Known officially as the U.S.-India Women's College Faculty-Exchange Programme, this adventure in educational co-operation is beginning its third year of operation, supported by grants of $356,400 from the U.S. Department of State and $67,000 from the Danforth Foundation, a private educational organization.

One of the most important features of the exchange, according to Dr. William F. Quillian, Jr., president of Randolph-Macon and permallent chairman of the programme, is "the element of mutuality between the participating colleges in the United States and India. This is a programme in which all colleges, both in the United States and in India, will gain benefits."

When the first group of American exchange teachers returned to their continued

Such features of the American university system as teacher-given examinations, research papers and small classes allow the professor to give of his best, say the two Indian educators.

own colleges in late 1965after a year at Indian institutions, Dr. Quillian notes, "they brought to their respective colleges and to their classes new insights into the history, culture and the current situation in India." Meanwhile, he adds, Indian lecturers were making an outstanding contribution at the American colleges. In India, the same sort of thing was happening. The impact of the programme has mushroomed rapidly as students and educators in both countries have been exposed to new ideas and concepts.

It is difficult, in fact, to decide who derives the greatest benefit from the exchange-and this, of course, is its greatest strength. Mrs. Bhardwaj puts it simply: "I have learned about the United States as much as the American students have learned about India."

This process of learning is both formal and informal-through actual classroom contact and through casual conversation over a cup of tea or coffee. Betty Morgan never had Mrs. Bhardwaj as a professor, nor did she hear her in a formal lecture-yet knowing Mrs. Bhardwaj made India come alive for her.

Betty and the sixteen other thirdyear students at Pattillo House, a small dormitory next to Mrs. Bhardwaj's apartment, more or less adopted the Indraprastha lecturer. "From the very first," Betty recalls, "Mrs. Bhardwaj showed an insatiable curiosity about us and the things we like, and her curiosityprompted us to want to know about her and her country. For me this was the first close contact with a person from another cultural background and it has been very interesting to find out the similarities and differences of our two countries."

Mrs. Bhardwaj, a political scientist who is completing her doctoral dissertation at Delhi University, taught the sections on India for two courses at Randolph-Macon: Asian Survey and Comparative Governments of China, Japan and India.

One of Mrs. Bhardwaj's former students, a twenty-year-old philosophy major from Humboldt, Tennessee, speaks feelingly of the Indian teacher's

impartiality in presenting "both sides of every controversy concerning India and supporting all views with reliable evidence." Says Nell Walton Senter: "Her effort to present material in an unbiased manner should be an example to all educators."

"She is a completely open person," echoes Martha Jane Daniel. An English major from Richmond, Virginia, Martha, twenty-one, is in the final year class. "I have had tea in her apartment and we have traded opinions on the Peace Corps in India and the United States in Viet-Nam," she says. "I have heard her talk at length on topics ranging from Indian embroidery and how to wear a sari, to current drought conditions in India. She is always willing to share her views, and I am always ready to listen. I have found her a delightful companion and an enthusiastic instructor; although I have not studied under her, I have learned much about the Indian way of life simply through conversation."

The impact of this teacher from India is almost endless. Mrs. Elizabeth W. Donovan, assistant professor of sociology who is now teaching under the exchange programme at Maharani's College in Bangalore, tells of Mrs. Bhardwaj's talk on the Indian family to her sociology class on "The Family." "Her presentation was a model of clarity and organization and was most enthusiastically received by the students."

For another Randolph-Macon faculty member, Mrs. Bhardwaj's presence had particular meaning. Robert S. Fuller, associate professor of art, is teaching at Indraprastha College during the current academic year. A painter as well as an educator, he has had numerous one-man shows in the United States and many of his works are in private collections and museums. His wife, the former Carolyn Gorton, also an artist, has participated with him in joint exhibitions.

The Fullers and Mrs. Donovanand the four other American teachers who came to India in June under the exchange programme-will find many friends at the Indian colleges to which

they are assigned. Lecturers from all six Indian participating colleges (Indraprastha and Miranda House in Delhi, Isabella Thoburn in Lucknow, Maharani's College in Bangalore, University College for Women in Hyderabad and Women's Christian College in Madras) taught in the United States during the first or second year of the exchange.

Many, like Mrs. Bhardwaj and Mrs. Shuja'at, divided their time between two American colleges, spending a semester at each. Mrs. Bhardwaj taught earlier at Western College for Women in Oxford, Ohio. Her colleague, who holds a doctorate in sociology from Osmania University and a diploma in social welfare from Stockholm University, spent her first semester at Connecticut College.

The programme, however, is not limited to faculty exchanges. The principals of several Indian colleges have toured the campuses of participating American institutions-just as American college presidents have visited India. This year Dr. Mary Chandy, principal of Miranda House, and Miss B. Das Gupta, head ofIndraprastha,went to the United States. Interviewed during a visit at Randolph-Macon, both stressed the mutual benefit of the programme. "What we appreciate most about the exchange programme and its value to our institutions is the feeling of equality," they emphasized. Like the principals of Maharani's College and University College for Women, who made a U.S. tour in 1965, Dr. Chandy and Miss Das Gupta were impressed by student government organizations they saw at American colleges.

Randolph-Macon students have taken a special interest in Indraprastha College, where their associate professor of psychology, Dr. Frederick B. Rowe, recently completed his exchange year. Spurred by his request, the Student Government Association at the Virginia school sponsored a textbook project which sent over 1,600 textbooks to the Indian college. Dr. Chandy and Miss Das Gupta spoke enthusiastically about such projects. "When it is not possible for the colleges to send us people as part of the exchange

Mrs. Shuja'at uses a map to make a point in classroom discussion. Her approach to India's problems, says a student, "is as fresh as the first monsoon rain."

programme," the Miranda House principal added, "they can send us reference books and textbooks and other teaching aids. This would be very helpful and greatly appreciated."

At Randolph-Macon's seventy-fifth anniversary ceremony, Dr. Eva 1. Shipstone, principal of Isabella Thoburn College, became the second person in the college's history to receive an honorary Doctor of Laws degree. Teaching in the United States under the Fulbright programme, Dr.Shipstone spent the first semester at Queens College, North Carolina, and the second at Mary Washington College in Virginia.

Other American colleges co-operating in the exchange programme are Agnes Scott College, Georgia; Barnard College, New York; Bennett College, North Carolina; Goucher College, Maryland; Mary Baldwin College, Virginia; Sweet Briar College, Virginia; andWheaton College in Massachusetts.

While each of the thirteen participating American colleges has a special interest in India, Mount Holyoke can boast of one of the oldest relationships, a sister-college affiliation with Women's Christian College dating back to 1920. Since then the bond between the two institutions and two countries has grown. Many Indian girls have studied at the Massachusetts college and it is not uncommon for a Mount Holyoke student to spend a year in India. Under the new exchange programme, Miss Lorraine W. Benner,

associate professor of psychology and education at Mount Holyoke, taught at the Madras college during the 1%41965 academic year.

In this atmosphere, it is small wonder that Dr. Shuja'at soon established a warm relationship with students and faculty alike. A dynamic ambassador of good will, she, like Mrs. Bhardwaj, provided a new and stimulating influence in American academic life.

Her approach to the problems of the world's largest democracy, comments one campus observer, "is as fresh as the first monsoon rain."

As an exchange lecturer at Mount Holyoke, Mrs. Shuja'at conducted a senior seminar on Indian Social Institutions and Social Problems and spent several hours each week in various sociology classes discussing Indian social systems, family structure, culture, population problems and religion.

"Her class made me aware of the uniqueness of the Indian and oflndia, of the differences between my country and hers and, at the same time, of the important elements which India and America and the Indian and American hold in common," says Sharon Avery of Plainville, Connecticut, a senior and sociology major.

For her part, Mrs. Shuja'at found American students "eager to learn."

She admires their "outspokenness, outgoingness and constant barrage of questions. Even outside of class the students were constantly questioning

me about India and its traditions."

"Teaching in the American system," she believes, "has given me a chance to compare the two educational systems.

I am appreciative of the opportunity to outline my own course, schedule the exam ina ti ons and grade my 0 wn papers.

These are very healthy working conditions. I have developed confidence and courage to operate on my own."

"Research papers, small classes, special reading assignments and a whole new world of textbooks have been pleasant surprises for me," she continues. "I don't expect to revolutionize the Indian educational system, but I would like to try some of these ideas in the Indian classroom."

For Mrs. Bhardwaj, too, there were innovations to admire. The opportunity for an instructor to arrange his own syllabus (as she did for her lectures on the Constitutional History of India) makes it possible, she believes, for a teacher "to give the best he is capable of. "She enjoyed such features of the U.S. educational system as teacher-given (as opposed to "external") examinations and smaller classes.

"I found the idea of independent study in American colleges a very useful system in making a student more aware of his own thoughts and ability to analyse the problems which are being studied," she adds. At RandolphMacon, Wednesday and Saturday mornings are class-free, reserved for independent reading and research.

"Exposure to another culture is always beneficial at all ages," she feels, "but it is very important to students and teachers .... I should say a teacher is always learning, not only extending his knowledge in his speciality but also in the study of human nature. The more people one deals with the more one learns how to deal with them.

American students are more independent and I have enjoyed and learned a lot from their questioning my conclusions. Sometimes we have agreed and sometimes we have agreed to disagree."

When Mrs. Shuja'at and Mrs. Bhardwaj left the U.S., they took with them, just as they left behind among their American associates, happy memories of new friendships, of challenging ideas and stimulating conversation and of a shared exploration in a common endeavour-the advancement of education and of mutual understanding.

END

CHAMPIONS OF THE SPORTS WORLD ALL GOOD athletes combine skill, co-ordination and strength. But driving ambition marks the champion.

Whether he plays a quiet sport like golf or a rambunctious one like hockey, a star has such a strong determination to win that he excels. Often he has only a few years to perfect his style, reach his physical peak. Many by their mid-20's are old veterans, hard pressed by younger athletes who are capable of sweeping past established records.

BASKETBALL: For seven years in a row, Bill Russell, touching basket, has helped the Boston Celtics win the National Basketball Association( NBA) championship. Chosen last year as the NBA's "Most Valuable Player" for the fourth time, Russell is cited as the best defensive player in basketball history.

HOCKEY: When Detroit's Gordie Howe is on the ice, the stadium

hums like an overloaded electric cable. Six times voted the National Hockey League's "Alost Valua,'lle Player," Howe has scored a record of 626 goals. After twenty years, his ambition is to play longer than anyone else has-twenty-one years.

At 20, Don Schollander has made Olympic history by being the first athlete to win four gold medals fOI swimming. A student at Yale University, heis the sparkplug of the swimming team.

SWIMMING:

GOLF: During his first year as a professional,26-year-old Jack Nicklaus ranked among three top American players and becamegolf's number one money-maker.

Recently he wall a major contest, the prestigiousBritish Open Golf Tournament.

BASEBALL: Sandy Kou(ax gianlstepped right from college sparls into big-league baseball in 1955.

Since then, he has been sleadily breaking records as an ace pitcher for the Los Angeles Dodgers.

By mid-season this year, he had won seventeen games, more than any other major league pilcher.

MOUNTAIN CLIMBING: James W. Whittaker was the first American to reach the summit of MI. Everest during an assault in 1963, which was led by Norman Dhyrenfurth. Last year, he accompanied Senator Robert F. Kennedy when the latter became the firsl person to stand atop Alaska's MI. Kennedy, named after his brother.

THE

DRAMA OF SPACE

Only three men will form the pioneering team of intrepid explorers which the United States plans to send to the moon before the end of this decade. But behind this small team will be the labours of more than 300,000 persons-scientists, technicians, administrators, helpers of aU kinds. Their concerted efforts are enabling man to probe ever deeper into the vast, unexplored expanses of space.

In the five years since Alan Shepard's short sub-orbital flight on May 5, 1961, space technology has made amazingly rapid strides.

Supplementing the manned flights and adding useful new scientific data on the moon are the flights of non-manned spacecraft, such as Surveyor 1 which made a perfect landing on the moon on June 2, 1966.

The pictures on these pages portray some exciting moments in the progress of the most remarkable adventure in human history-the conquest of space.

Simulating Space Journey An essential part of the rigorous training which must precede an astronaut's venture into space is subjection to simulated flight conditions. The coloured lights in the picture instantaneously trace his reactions to the roll of the simulated capsule, its pitch, yaw and horizontal motion.

Gemini 7 made space history ill December 1965 when Astronauts Frank Borman and James Lovell /few ill it for fourteen days in as many as 206 orbits of the earth. The fish-eye camera view showing the complex array of instruments in t~e spacecraft gives some idea of the technology behind its design and production.

On their projected journey to the moon, American astronauts will be housed in this capsule known as Apollo Command Module. During /fight the frame may be subjected to fiery heat on one side and frigid cold on the other. The brilliant glow seen is that of a radiant heat test at 312°C under simulated conditions.

The hardware of space travel makes unusual photos-on the ground and in orbit.

The five engines of the Saturn 5 rocket, which will lift the Apollo moonship off the ground, generate 7,500,000 pounds of thrust. Standing on its launch pad at Cape Kennedy, Florida, the 360~foothigh rocket is illuminated by a hundred floodlights.

First docking of vehicles in space, achieved by Astronauts Neil Armstrong and David Scott in March 1966, terminated early owing to difficulty in controlling flight attitudes of the two joined craft.

Gemini 8 (lower left) moves in to join Agena.

Camera is basic tool of spac research-and has created beautiful pictures as well

Astronauts Thomas Stafford and Eugene Cernan walk up the ramp to the elevator for the Gemini 9 mission, June 1966. Two key goals were link-up with a target vehicle and a space walk. The link-up was abandoned owing to a mechanical failure but Cernan took a record walk lasting 127 minutes.

Before being shut down for the lunar night, Surveyor I-whose shadow on the moon appears in this photo-had transmitted 10,335 pictures. Awakened after three weeks from its frozen slumber by a radio signal, it sent a further 815 pictures which may include the first distortion-free photograph of the sun's corona. The long-term survival of the machine and its 42 days of active life rank as an outstanding scientific achievem('nt.

Silhouetted against a rising su these mobile launchers will su port complete moon unit on journey to launch site. Each pla form is larger than five tenn courts, can support the 9,000-to weight of the Saturn 5 rocket th will blast the Apollo capsule in space for the journey to the moo

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DRAMA OF SPACE