The Raman Effect

My first meeting with Sir Chandrasekhara Venkata Raman, the eminentphysicist, is still green in my memory.

One day, in l948, I telephoned the Nobel laureate to ask if I could meethim at his convenience and photograph him for an illustrated feature. I wasapprehensive about getting an appointment from so busy a person, but waspleasantly surprised when he asked me, "How much time would you need?" Anhour, I said. Raman went on to say those thirty minutes would do. I couldsee him the next morning at nine sharp. "Come on time," he warned.

I dutifully reported my success to Pothan Joseph, Editor of Deccan Herald,which had been started barely a month ago. "Be punctual and conductyourself with grace," Pothan counselled me. He told me that Raman was a manof quick temper and so I should not throw my weight about in his presence,just because I was a newspaperman. "He may get angry if you direct him toact before your camera. He is particular about the rules he sets forhimself," he warned. After listening to all these do's and don'ts I feltsomewhat nervous because, I was going to photograph a celebrity for thefirst time.

I decided to take another person with me for moral support. My choice fellnaturally on my alter ego of those days, M.S.Sathyu, now a noted filmdirector, but barely out of his teens then. Sathyu and I were great friendsfrom our school days and he used to keep company with me on my assignments.Contrary to our fears, we found Raman extremely affable and gentle. Heseemed very cooperative as I photographed him in his study, laboratory,library and the garden he loved. All this took twenty minutes and I stillhad ten minutes left to complete my job. Then, a bright idea struck me andI told Raman that I would love to photograph him with Lady Raman. "Forgetabout her. She is not here," he said. And then a brighter idea came to mymind. Summoning the required courage, I asked the scientist: "Sir, may Itake one last, important picture? Will you please pose for me displayingyour Nobel Prize citation?" Pursing up his lips, Raman gazed at me, whilemy heart began to pound rapidly. He relaxed in a minute and, to my uttersurprise, said, "Why not?" He went into a room to fetch the preciousdocument.

"I'm lucky," I hissed in Sathyu's ear. I entrusted my brand-newSpeed-Graphic camera to his care and set about adjusting the furniture andbooks in the room, for the all-important picture. Raman had meanwhilereturned, holding the scroll, and stood beside a blackboard on which wasscribbled in chalk, the diagram of a galaxy and other mathematicalcalculations. He looked at me and said, "It's getting late. Shoot!"When I was about to pick up my camera from Sathyu who was standing in acorner, the silence in the room was shattered by the sound of metal hittingthe ground. We looked around and found to our dismay that Sathyu haddropped the camera.

Raman's face was livid with anger. He walked up to Sathyu, gripped him bythe collar and thundered: "Do you know what you have done? You have damageda beautiful instrument of science. Why weren't you careful?" We were shakenand mumbled our apologies. Our minds were a malange of shame, confusion andembarrassment.

Raman's anger subsided within a minute. Holding the camera in hand, hecarefully examined it as an experienced doctor would a patient. He wrote ona piece of paper: "Prisms out of alignment. Replace one broken piece andrealign. Set right the metallic dents." He pressed his prescription in mypalm and gave us the marching orders saying, "You may leave now." My firstphoto session with the Nobel Laureate and Bangalore's most famous citizen,had ended in a fiasco.

My immediate problem was to get the camera repaired and I rushed to myfriend, Tom D'Auguiar, who was working at the Central Telegraphic Office inBangalore. Both of us were members of the Mysore Photographic Society. Hesuggested that I take my camera to his friend, C.X.Lowe, who owned theElite Studio on South Parade, today's Mahatma Gandhi Road, not far from theoffice where I worked. It took a week for Lowe to set right my equipment. Iwas delighted when I got back my repaired camera from Lowe who refused toaccept his professional charges. "Let me keep this 'prescription' that thefamous scientist wrote for you." I parted with my invaluable souvenir.I met Raman again a couple of months later. By then I had been elected thesecretary the Mysore Photographic Society. We had organized aninternational salon and wanted him to inaugurate the show at the BibleSociety premises on South Parade, today's Mahatma Gandhi Road. Ramanreadily agreed but made it clear that he would go round the exhibition andnot make any speech. I remember garlanding him. He smelled the jasminestrings as he looked at the pictures with a keen eye. At the end, he pattedme on my back and exclaimed: "It's a wonderful exhibition. I'm sure it willdraw many visitors." Raman was with us for a whole hour when some memberscoaxed and cajoled him to say a few words. Much to our surprise, he made alittle speech. I fidgeted in my chair as he recalled the fiasco I hadcreated on my first visit to his place. "Now that he is secretary of yourSociety and has helped mount this beautiful exhibition, I will at lastforgive him!" he said amidst applause.

An hour had passed and the jasmine garland was still around Raman's neck.It was his habit to keep it on him until he reached home to pass it on tohis wife Lokasundari. Fairer in complexion but shorter in stature, shy andsoft-spoken, she was Raman's ideal partner and shared his love for music,particularly the veena.

When he was about to get into his car, I asked Raman if I could visit himagain for more pictures to complete my feature article. "Come over aftertelephoning me. Are you going to bring the fellow who dropped your camera?"He burst into laughter.

I did not go to see him immediately after the event he had inaugurated. Iknew that he would be preoccupied with things connected with his sixtiethbirthday. I remember how it was celebrated in a grand manner in November,l948. Many of his distinguished students and colleagues were present at hishome in the morning. They sat in a separate room animatedly chatting witheach other, while Raman performed a private religious ceremony, sitting infront of the sacred fire with his wife. The whole house, filled with smokeemanating from the sacred fire, seemed to respond to the melodious chant ofVedic hymns. Wearing his dhoti in the orthodox fashion, Raman came out fora short while, as though to bless his students with a gentle nod of hishead. I noticed the sacred thread that was conspicuous on his bare chestand the pigtail dangling behind his head. His forehead was smeared withsacred ash. The knight-errant of Indian science looked like a Brahminpriest from a south Indian temple. My fingers itched to freeze-frame himbut, alas, I could not dare open my camera. The private religious functionwas not open to the Press.

The felicitation function in the evening, presided over by Sir ArcotRamaswamy Mudaliar, the Dewan of Mysore, was a grand one. Looking regal inhis black long coat and turban, Raman sat beside Mudaliar. I was there withmy camera, all ready to record the event. Before the meeting began, Raman,who was in a jolly mood talking to his many friends, sighted me in thePress enclosure and beckoned me to his side. I had already established arapport with him. When I went up to offer my congratulations, he held myhands in an affectionate grip, pumped them furiously, before breaking outinto a hearty laugh. He took a quick look at my camera and asked, "Is itworking al right? Don't drop it again!" I said 'yes' and mentioned that Ihoped to meet him soon, for a second photo session.

When I went over to his place after two weeks, I found him in the companyof children from a local convent. Raman bubbled with joy in their company,answering their questions in his characteristic, simple way. I followed himas he led them into a room saying, "I will show you something beautiful."Our eyes were focussed on a variety of stones of many sizes and shapes,besides crystals and minerals that had been beautifully displayed in thedark-walled room.

"They look ordinary to your eyes, don't they?" he asked. "Yes, Sir," thechildren chorused. Instead of remaining a silent onlooker, I ventured tosay: "I like their shapes and unusual texture. But, I wouldn't call thembeautiful."

"Nonsense," he retorted. What subjects did you study at college?Humanities, I suppose."

"Yes, Sir."

"No wonder. You don't seem to know even the rudiments of science. Collegesdon't teach much."

So saying, Raman suddenly switched off the light. Standing in the centreof the dark room, he switched on a portable ultraviolet lamp and played iton the exhibits. The stones and minerals came alive and began to glow inbreath-taking bright colours - violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orangeand their myriad combinations. Raman had transported us into a fairyland. Abright little girl screamed in joy - " Alice in Wonderland!" The delightedscientist joyously hugged her and planted a soft kiss on her tender cheek.Having shown us the beauty of nature as revealed by the application ofphysics, he went on to explain the scientific basis of the fascinatingphenomena of fluorescence and phosphorescence. "You must have seen the glowworm at night," he said and explained in a lucid, easy-to-grasp manner, thescientific phenomena behind what we had seen. He also spoke about thediscovery of what came to be known as the Raman Effect, which concerns themolecular diffraction of light and won for him the Nobel Prize for Physicsin l930. He claimed that the blue of the sea was due to the molecularscattering of light and was not a case of reflection of the sky in water asmost people imagined. Raman had the knack of explaining the most abstrusescientific phenomena in a language that even ordinary people couldunderstand.

Over the next few years I established a closer, affectionate rapport withRaman and showed him all the pictures I had earlier taken of him. I visitedhim often but only after getting a firm appointment.

One lucky day, I found him in an expansive mood when he told me the storyof his trip to Sweden to receive the Nobel Prize. He recalled what he hadsaid to the members of the University of Calcutta who had gathered tofelicitate him, after he was conferred the Fellowship of the Royal Society."I'm not flattered by the honour done to me. This is a small achievement.If there is anything that I aspire for, it is the Nobel Prize. You willfind that I get that in five years." These words seemed shorn of modestybut they were indicative of his determination to achieve whatever he wantedto. And precisely at 7 p.m. on February 8, l928, C.V.Raman fulfilled hispromise by a discovery so vital and so far- reaching in its effects onmodern scientific knowledge that the award of the Nobel Prize for Physicsto him became a certainty. It was the same spirit of adventure thatcompelled him to go to Sweden in order to receive the prize in Novemberl930, even before the awards for that year were announced. His optimism andmeticulous planning were such that he reserved berths for himself and hiswife on the ocean liner to Sweden five months in advance.

His eyes were misted when he narrated to me the story about the awardceremony in Stockholm.

"It is celebrated with much pomp and dignity. There were about ten thousandpersons in the assembly. The Swedish king was in the chair. Five personshad to receive the prizes. All of them were seated in their chairs flankedby their countries' flags. I was sorry to see that I was under the Britishflag. India was still under British rule. The Civil Disobedience Movementwas in full swing and Mahatma Gandhi was in jail. I was overcome by emotionwhen my name was called and I went up to receive the prize from royalhands."

After receiving the Nobel Prize, Raman is reported to have visited hisnative village where his aunt asked him: "What is all this commotion aboutthe big prize you have received?" He explained to her, in hischaracteristic lucid style, his discovery. After listening to him with raptattention, the old lady is said to have remarked, "I didn't know it was sosimple. I am surprised that such a simple thing should have meritedinternational recognition!"

My last photo session with Raman was sometime in the l960s, during the AllIndia Congress Committee session held at Sadashivanagar in Bangalore, notfar from the Raman Research Institute in Hebbal. I had arrived in Bangalorefrom New Delhi with my friend Donald Connery, to cover it for the Americanmagazines, Time and Life. He was correspondent of these magazines. Havingextensively photographed the meeting, where Jawaharlal Nehru was thecynosure of all eyes, I suggested to Connery that we take a break from thepoliticians and spend some time with Raman. When I telephoned thescientist, he was happy to hear my voice and the progress I had made in mycareer from the humble beginnings he had known. "Bring your American friendalong," he said and this delighted Connery.

We spent two hours with the scientist at the Institute he had set up withan eye for thoroughness and meticulous detail. During the interview,Connery asked Raman a number of questions on a variety of subjects, whichthe scientist answered with his characteristic candour, while I went onshooting pictures. Raman told him how greatly he admired Nehru and recalledthe day in 1949 when the Prime Minister spent a long time at his place. "Nehru was fascinated seeing my collection of diamonds, stones and mineralsand the gorgeous spectacle that unfolded before him when I played myultraviolet lamp on them in the dark room." Like a consummate showman,Raman demonstrated the phenomena of fluorescence and phosphorescence forConnery and me. One never got tired of seeing that beautiful sight.Connery was full of admiration for Raman, who was brutally frank andunafraid when he spoke, sometimes caustically. "While I admire Nehrupersonally, I dislike the cronies around him," he remarked. He referred tothe AICC session as "a big tamasha where they just talk, talk and talk frommorning till night." When he was asked for a quick solution to India's foodproblem, Raman said, "We must stop breeding like pigs and the matter willsolve itself." The two hours we spent with the Nobel laureate seemed liketwo minutes.

The scientific world is very familiar with countless anecdotes andaffectionate memories of Dr.C.V.Raman and his gracious wife, Lokasundari.A story goes that Raman was once speaking at a gathering on cyclotrons. Heabruptly stopped talking and walked up to an elderly person to pick up hiscane. He returned to the rostrum and began swirling the cane above hishead. As the movement picked up speed, Raman asked the gathering: "Tell mewhat will happen if I let go this cane now." No one answered. All the facesin the assembly exuded grave concern. Raman was still swirling the cane."Don't be scared", he told them in a baritone voice. "It will of coursetravel towards one of you to break the head. I won't let that happen. I wasonly explaining to you the cyclotron principle."

Raman's aversion to politics and politicians was well known. It is saidthat he was once offered the post of the Vice President of the IndianRepublic, which he politely declined saying, "What will I do with thisship?"

At a felicitation function in his honour on his 80th birthday, speakerafter speaker praised him. One of them compared his intellect to a diamond- hard, brilliant and multi-sided. Raman intervened to say, "I wish someonehad said that I also had the heart of a lion."

An abridged version of this appears in the print magazine dated 14July, 2003