Edutainment
Of Formulas and Frames: Why India Must Stop Dividing Science and Art
In a recent interview with Lallantop, Varun Grover—acclaimed writer, lyricist, comedian, and filmmaker—hit upon a truth so striking, it should’ve been plastered across school walls: India has lost its plot in nurturing innovators. And the reason? We’ve boxed our subjects—and our students—into separate lanes. Science on one side, art on the other. One wears lab coats, the other paints canvases. They rarely, if ever, meet.
Grover put it sharply: in India, we’ve created a caste-like hierarchy between subjects. Science students often carry the burden of “doing real work,” while arts students claim the higher ground of exploring life and meaning. The result? A deep-rooted disconnect. And it begins early—often in Class 11, when students are forced to pick a stream and silently abandon the rest of their interests.
But must a physicist give up poetry? Must a musician ignore algorithms?
It doesn’t have to be this way. At MIT, one of the world’s top science and tech universities, PhD students in Physics can take courses in music, design, or history—and earn credits for them. Why? Because innovation thrives where disciplines intersect. Because understanding how a flute works can teach you more about frequencies than a textbook diagram ever will.
Consider Steve Jobs, who credited a college calligraphy class for inspiring the Mac’s typography. Or Indian innovator Sonam Wangchuk, whose work in Ladakh seamlessly blends engineering with local art, architecture, and sustainability. His Himalayan Institute of Alternatives (HIAL) teaches future engineers and designers side-by-side, breaking the very silos our system has normalised.
Even Nobel laureate Richard Feynman once said, “I have a friend who’s an artist… He’ll hold up a flower and say, ‘Look how beautiful it is,’ and I’ll agree. But I can also see beauty in how the flower works—its structure, its physics. Science only adds to the beauty.”
And yet, in India, we continue to teach these as separate things. We train students to clear tests, not to create. We push them into IIT-JEE coaching at 13 and expect them to build world-changing ideas at 25.
This isn’t just an academic issue—it’s cultural. Our textbooks rarely reference architecture as both engineering and aesthetic legacy. Our school plays and science exhibitions are held in different corners of the building. Our awards are either for “Best Innovation” or “Best Performance”—never both.
The irony is painful. A land of classical music rooted in maths. A civilisation that built temples with astronomical precision. A country that once integrated dance, sculpture, and geometry with everyday life. And yet, we’ve chosen to modernise by compartmentalising.
It’s time we remember what Varun Grover reminded us of: the pyramid is both an engineering feat and an artistic marvel. And so is the human mind.
Let’s build an education system that stops asking children to choose between knowing and feeling, between numbers and narratives.
Let’s stop making them pick a lane—when the real magic happens at the crossroads.
