“Nature is full of infinite causes

that have never occurred in experience.”

— Leonardo da Vinci

ature’s mastery is evident even in the seemingly insignificant. Some insects are recluses, refusing to be seen in the open, existing solely in the margins beneath bark and stones or choosing the cool of night. They thrive in subtlety, shielding themselves with camouflage. The butterfly is the opposite. With wings brushed in amber, turquoise and sapphire, it perches where a flashing petal resides, as if aware that beauty deserves an audience. If one gets too close, it flies away.

But how much of the world do we actually see?

Science education begins with that question. It is not simply the accumulation of facts or the memorisation of definitions. At its best, science encourages us to observe closely, question what appears obvious and discover that the familiar world contains mysteries that cannot be discerned at first glance. For young minds especially, developing a habit of inquiry may be as important as learning the scientific facts.

Science expos and festivals can provide an unusual space for that kind of learning. Outside the restrictions of a conventional classroom, students can encounter experiments, demonstrations and phenomena that invite them to look, touch, question and wonder. The Lahore Science Mela offered one such experience.

At the Mela, the Khwarizmi Science Society allowed minimalists like me to indulge the public in the grandeur of the minute through the art of microscopy. The society allowed the display of both the ascetics and the inviting untouchables.

The setup consisted of three microscopes, ranging from a portable HD LCD digital microscope to stereo microscopes. One of the microscopes had been donated to the KSS by insect lovers at The Caterpillar Lab in New Hampshire, USA. A smaller screen was attached to the digital and light microscope. A TV-sized LED provided a better view. The digital microscope could display specimens at magnifications ranging from 1x to 1,200x. The light microscope, in contrast, provided higher magnification and detailed observation with improved resolution.

This is where science education can become more than textbook learning. At the Mela, held at Crescent Model Higher Secondary School, children admired the venation of the Akk grasshopper and the compound eyes of a dragonfly. Others marvelled at the mandibles of black digger wasps, mosaics on butterfly wings and muted tones of carpenter bees. What appeared ordinary from a distance became extraordinary under the lens.

The experience suggested to me that there is a quiet wizardry in the art of science communication. Behind every slide lies a macrocosm. The role of a communicator is to bring it to life without poking anyone with the slides.

A young person who learns to ask what lies beyond immediate appearances is already beginning to develop a scientific sense. Science demands patience, observation and a willingness to revise one’s understanding. It teaches us that seeing is not always the same as knowing and that curiosity must be accompanied by careful investigation.

The visitors seemed like pilgrims travelling through the arena, yearning for scientific enlightenment. Never were they an audience of the same age. Hence, the diversity of the questions they put forward was both puzzling and august. The cornerstone of our demonstrations was a simple question: what if the world we see is only a fraction of what truly exists?

That question matters beyond the microscope.

A young person who learns to ask what lies beyond immediate appearances is already beginning to develop a scientific sense. Science demands patience, observation and a willingness to revise one’s understanding. It teaches us that seeing is not always the same as knowing and that curiosity must be accompanied by careful investigation.

The bedazzled spectators watched one of our ardent demonstrators catching butterflies on the spot. Some were hooked. Others remained sentimental once they were quelled. Meanwhile, specimens under varying magnifications inspired questions about both technicalities and their subjects. Undoubtedly, a microscope is a benison for the meticulous and a cruel joke for anyone with shaky hands.

The Lahore Science Mela brought together demonstrations from multiple disciplines. Science was not presented as something distant or inaccessible. It became something to look at.

This is perhaps one of the greatest values of science expos. They can take science beyond the boundaries of the classroom and allow students to experience knowledge as an activity rather than a mere subject. They can turn a scientific concept into an observation, an observation into a question and a question into an impulse to investigate.

Science, with its discipline, grants us the power to handle nature with the fidelity it deserves. It encourages us to observe with a curious mind and with a humility that acknowledges the complexity of what is perceived as the marvels of nature. Art speaks where analysis falls silent. This was evident when youngsters’ jaws dropped at both the architecture of the microscope and the wonders it revealed.

Observations under the lens reveal spatial relationships between structures invisible to the naked eye. Such encounters can leave a young observer with something more lasting than a collection of facts—the desire to look closer.

Perhaps that is what science education should ultimately cultivate: not just students who know the answers, but young people who are unafraid to ask questions.

Then there is the crowning marvel: the textures, a delicate interplay of velvet, glass and steel.

The writer is a science communicator and a biology enthusiast.