27 December: Memory, Meaning, Music of Truth, and a Birthday Gift

 

27 December has, over the years, acquired a layered meaning in my life—personal, historical and intellectual, perhaps. It is personal for it happens to be my wife’s birthday. It is also a date that repeatedly invites reflection: on loss and healing, on science and nationhood, and on how history is sometimes misunderstood, sometimes misrepresented, yet always worth defending with evidence.

Last year, unfortunately, grief eclipsed memory. The sudden and untimely passing (on 26 December, 2024) of our Sainik School Bijapur classmate of over five decades, a Mumbaikar, Pradip Talikoti, —our beloved Paddya—left us, more particularly Milind and I, his Mumbai friends, shocked and stunned. The shock of losing a friend with whom Milind and I used to meet very frequently in Mumbai and the last of our meeting and conversations had happened just three days before his passing. In that emotional fog, last year, I had forgotten my wife’s birthday. Yet, it was she who gently steered me back—reminding me, with characteristic grace, that writing has always been my way of negotiating sorrow. It was through her quiet understanding that my grief of losing a friend was transformed into scientific reflection.

Two days later (29 December, 2024) I wrote—about Charles Darwin setting sail aboard HMS Beagle on 27 December 1831, an event that altered humanity’s understanding of life itself.  Here is a link to my the subject post https://khened.blogspot.com/2024/12/forgetting-wifes-birthday-27-december.html

A year before – 27 December 2023, I had chosen another historical moment to mark her birthday—the first public rendition of Jana Gana Mana on 27 December 1911 at the Indian National Congress session in Calcutta. Here is the link the subject blog https://khened.blogspot.com/2023/12/27-december-jana-gana-mana-national.html

Each year, unknowingly perhaps, this date has allowed me to place personal emotion within a wider historical canvas.

This year, as my wife marks her birthday today, I wish to do something slightly different: to briefly recall those earlier reflections, but to primarily address a historical falsehood that continues to circulate about Jana Gana Mana. This clarification, rooted in documentary evidence and scholarly consensus, is my birthday gift to my wife this year: an offering devoid of any material gifts, but of truth, memory, and intellectual honesty.

The Persistent Myth: Was Jana Gana Mana Written in Praise King George V?

The claim that Rabindranath Tagore composed Jana Gana Mana to welcome King George V during his 1911 visit to India is historically incorrect. Yet, more than a century later, it continues to surface—sometimes through ignorance, sometimes through ideological mischief – on the social media and this year it was perhaps more prominent in wake of the Parliamentary debate on the National Song, Vande Mataram, an equally important national identity, which marked its sesquicentennial year this year.

It is significant to recall what actually happened on 27 December 1911 during the Indian National Congress Session in Calcutta (now Kolkata) to address the myth surrounding the National Anthem – Jana Gana Mana, composed  by Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore, which is well-documented

That day, two different songs were sung at the Indian National Congress session in Calcutta:

1. “Jana Gana Mana”, composed by Rabindranath Tagore, was sung in the morning session.

2. “Badshah Hamara”, a separate song explicitly written in praise of the British monarch, was sung later the same day during a different event connected to the Delhi Durbar celebrations.

The confusion—and later controversy—arose largely due to British-leaning sections of the press, which either carelessly or deliberately conflated the two performances. Some newspapers reported that the Congress session had welcomed the King-Emperor through a song composed by Tagore. This was factually wrong, and intellectually dishonest.

Tagore himself categorically rejected this interpretation. In later correspondence, including his well-known letter of 1937, he clarified that the “Adhinayaka” addressed in Jana Gana Mana referred not to any earthly monarch but to the timeless moral and spiritual guide of humanity—what he described as the Bhagya Vidhata, the dispenser of destiny. To Tagore, equating that concept with a colonial ruler was not merely incorrect; it was philosophically absurd.

Why the Confusion Persisted

The endurance of this falsehood tells us something important about how history gets distorted, for vested interest. Colonial reportage often lacked contextual fidelity, and nationalist cultural expressions were frequently misrepresented to suit imperial optics. Over time, repetition hardened error into “fact” for those unwilling to consult primary sources. Later, in independent India, selective quotation and ideological agendas kept the controversy alive—despite overwhelming scholarly consensus to the contrary.

Yet, a simple reading of Jana Gana Mana—with its invocation of India’s geography, peoples, and civilizational unity—makes the monarch-welcome theory untenable. There is no king named, no empire praised, no sovereign flattered. Instead, there is a nation being imagined—decades before it would formally exist.

A Song That Outgrew Its Moment

When Jana Gana Mana was formally adopted as India’s national anthem on 26 January 1950, after extensive debate in the Constituent Assembly, it was not chosen in a hurry or light heartedly. It was chosen precisely because it transcended politics of the moment and spoke to the enduring idea of India. Incidentally, the same Constituent Assembly accorded the status of the national song to Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay’s Vande Mataram, whose sesquicentennial year we celebrate this year.  

Both the national anthem and the national song and their impactful power continue to manifest—in school assemblies, Republic Day parades, and unforgettable collective moments such as the spontaneous mass singing during national events and sporting arena like the one that we witnessed during the India–Pakistan World Cup match in Ahmedabad. In such moments, the anthem ceases to be mere music; it becomes lived experience and so does the national song.

Why This Matters— Birthday Gift

Contrary to my wife, whose family indulges in showering material birthday gifts, yours truly comes from a milieu where birthdays were / are marked not by extravagance but by reflection—temple visits, blessings of elders, and quiet gratitude. That sensibility has shaped my life and my wife has begun to appreciate it. Writing - my passion - as a gift, therefore, my wife feels is more appropriate as a birthday gift than any material gift. This essay is therefore for her—for her patience, her understanding our family ethos, and her unwavering belief in my understanding that ideas matter, truth matters, and memory matters. It is also for my friend Paddya, whose sudden departure reminded me how fragile time is, and how essential it is to record what we know to be true.

And finally, it is for 27 December itself—a date that reminds me, year after year, that personal lives and world history are not parallel lines, but intersecting stories.

Happy Birthday my dear life partner.

May truth always find its voice, memory always find its words, and Jana Gana Mana continue to remind us who we are.

Jai Hind.

Ramanujan, π, and the Universe

Ramanujan, π, and the Universe: How a Century-Old Indian Genius Shapes Modern Astrophysics

Today, 22 December 2025, on the occasion of the 138th Jayanthi of Srinivasa Ramanujan, which is also the day when we celebrate the National Mathematics Day in India, it is an honour for me to be penning this tribute to the legendary mathematician. While commemorating the 125th birthday of Srinivasan Ramanujan in 2012, we developed an exhibition “ Srinivasa Ramanujan: The Man Who Knew Infinity”, borrowing the title of the exhibition from the monumental book authored by Robert Kanigel. This exhibition was opened at the Visvesvaraya Museum, Bangalore, which I headed when this exhibition was opened. Some of the images of the exhibition and its opening accompany this article. Incidentally, as a mark of respect for the nation to the legendary Ramanujan, the Prime Minister of India, Dr. Manmohan Singh, had declared that Ramanujan’s birthday will be celebrated as National Mathematics Day, and ever since, this day is celebrated as Mathematics Day across India.

Srinivasa Ramanujan is one of India’s greatest scientific minds, and among the most extraordinary mathematicians the world has ever known. Over a century after his brief life ended at just 32, Ramanujan continues to surprise us and remain an enigma — not merely as a historical genius, but as a living influence on modern science. 

Recent research by Indian physicists at the Indian Institute of Science (IISc), Bengaluru, has once again brought Ramanujan into contemporary scientific conversation — this time in connection with modern theoretical physics, including areas that underpin our understanding of black holes, gravitational waves, and extreme cosmic phenomena. This serves as a remarkable reminder that ideas born in pure mathematics can, decades later, illuminate the deepest mysteries of the universe.

From Kumbakonam to Cambridge: A Journey Like No Other.

Ramanujan’s story has been told often, yet it never loses its power. Born in 1887 on this day, 22 December, in Erode and raised in Kumbakonam, Ramanujan had almost no access to formal mathematical education. What he possessed instead was an extraordinary intuitive ability to see patterns that eluded trained mathematicians. Ramanujan attributed his mathematical genius to his deity, Namagiri Thayer.

By his early twenties, while working as a clerk at the Madras Port Trust, Ramanujan filled notebooks with thousands of original mathematical results. In 1913, he took the bold step of writing to G. H. Hardy at Cambridge, enclosing several pages of theorems — many without proofs, but dazzling in their originality. Perhaps the habit of recording theorems without formal proofs was shaped, at least in part, by Ramanujan’s early self-study of G. S. Carr’s Synopsis of Elementary Results, a mathematical compendium that deliberately avoided proofs and emphasised results—a format that deeply influenced his early mathematical development.

That letter changed history. Hardy immediately recognised Ramanujan’s genius and brought him to England. Within a few years, Ramanujan became a Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and later one of the youngest ever Fellows of the Royal Society — an astonishing rise for a self-taught mathematician from colonial India. 

Ramanujan and the Mystery of π

Among Ramanujan’s many contributions, his work on π (pi) holds a special place. π — the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter — is one of the most fundamental constants in mathematics and science. For centuries, mathematicians tried to calculate its value more efficiently.

In 1914, Ramanujan published a paper containing 17 astonishing formulas that allowed π to be calculated with unprecedented speed and accuracy. Each formula converged so rapidly that just a few steps produced many correct digits — something unheard of at the time. Knowing well how intimidating the math equation appears to most of us, let us not worry about the technicalities of the equation, but one of his most famous results — often described as almost magical —,  looks like this:

 This I known as the Rapid Convergence. It is interesting to note that in this famous equation, each successive term in the series adds approximately eight decimal places of accuracy to the value of 𝜋.  For many years, this enchanting, yet enigmatic series remained unproven. It was finally rigorously proven by the Borwein brothers in 1987.

Even today, modern supercomputers calculating trillions of digits of π use algorithms that descend directly from Ramanujan’s ideas.

Why Physicists Are Talking About Ramanujan in 2025

Suddenly, there is a newfound interest in Ramanujan. For many decades, Ramanujan’s π formulas were admired mainly as mathematical marvels. But a natural question lingered: Why do such extraordinary formulas exist at all?

Fortunately, very recently, Indian academics Professor Aninda Sinha and Faizan Bhat, working at the Indian Institute of Science (IISc), Bengaluru, have worked on this and have explored this question from a physicist’s perspective. Their research shows that the same mathematical structures underlying Ramanujan’s π formulas also appear in a class of modern physical theories known as conformal field theories.

These theories are not abstract curiosities. They form part of the mathematical language used today to understand: systems that behave similarly at different scales, turbulence and critical phenomena, and theoretical models connected to black holes and gravitational physics. In simple terms, the mathematics Ramanujan discovered intuitively over a century ago turns out to be deeply aligned with the mathematics needed to describe extreme and complex physical systems.

This does not mean Ramanujan was “calculating black holes” — but it does mean that his insights anticipated structures that physicists now encounter when probing the universe at its most fundamental level.

From Pure Thought to Cosmic Frontiers

One of the striking lessons from this research is the power of pure mathematics. Ramanujan was not trying to solve engineering problems or explain astronomical observations. He followed patterns that felt true to him.

Yet today, similar mathematical ideas help physicists simplify extremely complex calculations, improve theoretical models related to gravity and quantum systems, and strengthen the mathematical backbone of research into gravitational waves and black hole behaviour. This bridge — from intuition to abstraction, from numbers to the cosmos — is what makes Ramanujan’s legacy so extraordinary.

A Personal Note

I have had the privilege of engaging deeply with Ramanujan’s life and work over the years. In 2012, during the celebration of his 125th birth anniversary, while serving as Director of the Visvesvaraya Industrial & Technological Museum, Bengaluru, we developed the exhibition “Ramanujan: The Man Who Knew Infinity.” The exhibition travelled widely and appealed to thousands of visitors, reaffirming the power of storytelling in science communication. Some of the images that accompany this write-up are from that exhibition. Incidentally, the title of the exhibition was borrowed from Robert Kanigel's “ Srinivas Ramanujan: The Man Who Knew Infinity”, which Kanigel was happy to lend us.

I have also written extensively on Ramanujan’s life and contributions: I am sharing some of the blog links and links to downloading my articles below for those who may be interested 

Why Ramanujan Still Matters

As we celebrate Ramanujan’s Jayanthi today, his story reminds us of something profound: Great ideas do not belong to a single time, place, or discipline. A young clerk in Madras, guided by intuition and passion, produced mathematics that continues to resonate — not only in number theory, but in the very equations physicists use to explore the universe.

Ramanujan’s life teaches us that imagination, when coupled with perseverance, can transcend centuries. That is why Ramanujan is not merely remembered — he is still relevant.

Listed below are links to the two-part tribute to Ramanujan that I had written, which were published in Dream 2047 in February 2022 and March 2023 issues. 

Link to part 1, Feb. 2022 issue 

https://www.indiascienceandtechnology.gov.in/sites/all/themes/vigyan/pdf_file/newsletter_dreams_2047/2022/dream-feb-2022-eng.pdf\

Link to Part 2, March 2022 Issue

https://www.indiascienceandtechnology.gov.in/sites/all/themes/vigyan/pdf_file/newsletter_dreams_2047/2022/dream-march-2022-eng.pdf

Here is a link to my blog tribute paid to Ramanujan on his birth anniversary in 2021.

https://khened.blogspot.com/2021/12/srinivas-ramanujan-namagiri-gifted-math.html

Long live the legacy of Ramanujan, and may he continue to inspire generations to come

Images: Courtesy National Council of Science Museums and Wikipedia 

Grovel & Cricket: The word that carries the weight of history.

 

  

 Grovel & Cricket: The word that carries the weight of history.

Now that the heat on the comprehensive drubbing (2-0) that South African team gave to the over hyped Indian team in the Test series, I am tempted to write on the infamous word “Grovel” that hogged headlines and its history with a racial undercurrent. It all started with what the South African coach Conrad, said during the press conference after the end of the fourth day of the second test. He said “…. we wanted them (Indians) to really grovel”.  This word and its use in the context of the match resurrected not merely a controversial word, but a racial shadow that South Africa once fought so hard to escape, isolation / ban from international cricket.

For India—a nation that had helped South Africa return to cricketing legitimacy— “grovel” felt like an unnecessarily abrasive turn of phrase, especially coming after a First-Test defeat and a looming loss in the second. Language carries memory, and this word (grovel) of all words, could have been avoided by the South African coach. To highlight my thoughts, as a science communicator, I am reminded of the legendary scientist, James Watson, who died on 7 November, at the age of 97.

Watson’s example serves as a reminder of a paradox that repeats itself across history: brilliant minds and sporting arena are not immune to human frailties. Watson, one of the co-discoverers of the structure of DNA for which he shared the coveted Nobel Prize in Medicine and a towering figure in molecular biology, helped set in motion scientific revolutions that continue to shape medicine, genetics, and our understanding of life itself.

Watson championed the Human Genome Project and pushed for greater scientific attention to mental health - partly because of his own son’s struggle with psychiatric illness. Yet, all of this and his monumental contributions to science and humanity could not insulate him from the consequences of his own words. His repeated claims that Black people have inherently lower intelligence led to his downfall. The Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory—an institution he nurtured into global prominence— revoked the honours it had once bestowed. In his death, Watson did not receive the accolades which he so richly deserved.

Watson’s “fall from grace” is not an isolated tale but a reminder that racism pervades in subtle and overt ways, sometimes in the corridors of science and sometimes on the sporting field. And this brings us to the word “grovel” used by South African Coach, Shukri Conrad that has hogged media headline. This word has a history.

In 1976, during England’s tour of the West Indies, English captain Tony Greig declared that he intended to make the West Indians “grovel.” For a generation of Caribbean people whose parents and grandparents had struggled against the legacy of slavery and colonial domination, this was not just a sporting provocation. It was a racial insult. To “grovel” implied submission, abasement, a return to the humiliations of the past. The backlash was swift, and Greig himself later admitted that he had underestimated the racial implications of his words. But then the West Indies Cricket team paid back in-kind defeating Grieg’s English team 3-0 in the test series.

This word grovel was back again in news reminding its history, power, and pain in the second India-South Africa Test match, which the Indians lost comprehensively.

South Africa should have known the history and context of the word “grovel”, more viscerally than others, more so since South Africa was banished from international cricket, for over two decades due to apartheid—a system built explicitly on racial hierarchy - an undertone for the word grovel. Speaking of South Africa’s isolation from the world, I am reminded of my first passport (obtained in 1987), which clearly mentioned “this passport is valid for travel to ALL COUNTRIES EXCEPT REPUBLIC OF SOUTH AFRICA”.

It was India that extended the warmest hand of friendship and welcome to South Africa, when the time finally came for South Africa’s reintegration into the cricketing world in 1991-92. While developing a “Cricket Connects: India South Africa” exhibition, one of the most important sections of the exhibition was the reintegration of South Africa. This exhibition, which was developed to mark the India South Africa cultural relations in 2015, was curated and developed by the Nehru Science Centre, Mumbai and was presented in Johannesburg and Durban to a very appreciative crowd, I vividly remember presenting the exhibition catalogue, which accompanied the exhibition, to Sachin Tendulkar during the opening of Deconstructed Innings A tribute to Sachin Tendulkar that was presented at NGMA, Mumbai when I headed this institution.    

In November 1991, India hosted South Africa’s maiden historic return to international cricket. The reception in Kolkata at the inaugural one day international (ODI) match of the 3-match series, remains legendary. The packed Eden Gardens – more than 90000 spectators- roared not just for cricket match (ODI), which India won, but also for South Africa, a nation re-entering world cricket after a long spell of pariah status under apartheid. The South African team received a memorable reception including an opportunity to met Mother Teresa. Indian crowds cheered Allan Donald and Kepler Wessels as if they were their own. Their return to international cricket was celebrated by Indians as a symbol of friendship, solidarity, and an extraordinary act of goodwill by the hosts. It must be recalled that India had stood firmly against apartheid.

India further strengthened this relationship when it became the first country to tour South Africa in 1992 for a full series and Nelson Mandela personally welcomed the Indian team. Cricket became a bridge between two nations that had shared moral positions against racism and discrimination.

“Grovel” makes the present moment deeply ironic.

In the context of the second test match, South Africa coach, Shukri Conrad said that his team batted as long as they did in their second innings, because "we wanted them to really grovel”.  This phrase by Conrad, resurrected not merely a controversial word, but a racial shadow his own country had once fought so hard to escape. For India—a nation that had helped South Africa return to cricketing legitimacy—it felt like an unnecessarily abrasive turn of phrase, especially coming after a first-Test defeat and a looming loss in the second. Language carries memory, and this word, of all words, should have been avoided by a South African coach.

Racism mutates; it does not disappear

This is where the Watson story mirrors the cricket controversy. Watson was not a man unaware of the implications of his language; he was at the pinnacle of scientific achievement. Yet he repeated ideas long discredited by genetics itself. In cricket too, the people involved are no longer colonial administrators or imperial-era players. They are part of a global, multicultural, interdependent sport. But racism—even when unintended—slips through in choice of words, in unconscious bias, in language inherited without reflection.

We often imagine racism to be a loud, explicit act. More often, it is a careless phrase, a historical insult casually revived, or a stereotype uttered without thought. The Watson episode teaches us that no amount of brilliance or success inoculates a person against prejudice. And cricket teaches us that institutions with painful racial histories can sometimes forget their own lessons.

India, in the last few decades, has experienced a transformation in cricketing power, confidence, and global influence. From hosting South Africa’s re-entry into international cricket, we now dominate the commercial and sporting landscape of the game. But this does not make the country—or its players—immune to racial slights or coded insults. What the “grovel” remark underscores is that international sport is not insulated from past trauma. Words can reopen wounds. They can destabilise cricket’s attempts to transcend its colonial past. They can damage the very spirit of the game that brought nations together after decades of segregation. And yet, the appropriate response for such unpleasant situations is not anger alone. It is to remind the world of history. It is to assert that cricket today operates in a moral universe shaped by the struggle against racism, one in which every stakeholder must exercise responsibility, in the true spirit of the game, befittingly called Gentleman’s Game.

ISRO’s LVM3-M5 Successfully Positions CMS-03 Satellite in its Intended Trajectory

 

Yesterday evening, even as the temptation to watch the Women’s Cricket World Cup Final match played between the host country India and South Africa at the DY Patil Sports stadium in Mumbai, I had to make a choice between watching the cricket match and the ISRO Launch. The Indian team was put in to bat, after losing the toss, by South Africa, and they began their innings with a bang with a century opening partnership. However, notwithstanding the temptation to continue to watch Cricket, I chose to watch the live launch of the ISRO LVM3-M5.

I was one among millions of Indians, watching live, Indian Space Research Organisation (ISRO) successfully launch its advanced communication satellite CMS-03 from the Satish Dhawan Space Centre in Sriharikota. With the count of zero the Bahubali heavy lift rocket, LVM3-M5 (5th operational flight LVM3-M5) rose to the sky spewing plumes of controlled fire and smoke to the cheers of audience, including school children, who had assembled in large numbers at the launch station at Sriharikota. LVM3-M5 carried on board CMS-03 (also referred to as GSAT-7R) communication satellite, weighing 4410kg, the heaviest communication satellite from the Indian soil, which was successfully launched and placed in an intended Geosynchronous Transfer Orbit (GTO). The GSAT-7R is a multi-band communication satellite that will provide services to our Indian Navy over a wide oceanic region, including the Indian landmass.

The Launch Vehicle Mark-3 (LVM3), fondly called “Bahubali,” is India’s most powerful rocket. It stands more than 40 metres tall and weighs close to 640 tonnes at liftoff — roughly the mass of a fully loaded jumbo jet. It is noteworthy to recall that in the previous mission, LVM3 had successfully completed the prestigious Chandrayaan-3 mission, where in, India became the first country to soft land its Vikram Lander and Pragya Rower, near the lunar south pole.

I had doubts whether the launch date will be rescheduled in wake of the aftermath of Cyclone Montha, which had made landfall near Kakinada, Andhra Pradesh, around October 28-29, 2025. I was therefore, not sure if the weather was suitable for the ISRO launch. But fortunately, ISRO kept their schedule and the rest is now history. ISRO Chairman, in his post successful launch address to the nation and his team, did speak about their apprehension on the aftermath of the Cyclone, which they carefully examined and decided to go ahead with the launch. The success therefore becomes that much more important that it endeared challenges to place GSAT-7R into its intended transfer orbit.

From the Indian context, historically, satellites above 4 tonnes required foreign launches; However, yesterday the LVM3-M5 demonstrated its capacity to reduce India’s dependence on external launch markets. This success will accentuate India’s sovereign capacity to develop complex communications infrastructure for civil and defence purpose. ISRO’s public mission statement and contemporaneous reporting emphasise that CMS-03 is the heaviest communication satellite yet launched to GTO from India, and that this mission strengthens both maritime and national communications. 

The LVM 3 is a three stages rocket with three types of propulsion. It is a compact demonstration of propulsion diversity: two very large solid strap-on boosters (S200), a liquid-fuelled core (L110) and a cryogenic upper stage (C25) powered by the CE-20 engine. Each stage solves a different engineering problem. The S200 strapons (first stage boosters) are massive solid motors — among the largest in the world — carrying ~200 tonnes of composite solid propellant each delivering an enormous initial thrust pulse to clear dense atmosphere and quickly gain altitude and momentum. The two S200s ignited at lift off and burnt for roughly two minutes before separation. The second stage included the L110 liquid core, which is a liquid stage built around twin Vikas engines burning storable hypergolic propellants and nitrogen tetroxide variants in various configurations. The L110 provides throttleable thrust and control during the trans-atmospheric portion of flight; its ignition is timed to complement the S200 burn so that the vehicle enjoys continuous thrust as the boosters drop away. The third stage of the rocket is the C25 cryogenic. The high-efficiency CE-20 cryogenic engine uses liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen and is optimized for high specific impulse — the most fuel-efficient chemical propulsion for vacuum operations. The C25’s long, controlled burn is used to inject heavy payloads into the high-energy transfer orbit needed for subsequent orbit-raising by the spacecraft itself. Notably, this mission included a CE-20 reignition test to refine the injection — a delicate manoeuvres that underscores both engine reliability and flight-software precision, which was highlighted by ISRO Chairman and other ISRO Centre Directors in their post launch address.

Addressing the nation ISRO Chairman reported that the GSAT 7R Satellite has been successfully inducted in the sub-GTO parking ellipse path of roughly 170 km × 29,970 km (perigee × apogee), from which the satellite will perform autonomous orbit-raising manoeuvres to reach a circular geostationary slot near ~36,000 km altitude. Over the coming days to weeks the ISRO will help the satellites on board propulsion system to execute perigee-raising and apogee-circularisation burns under the control of ISRO’s Master Control Facility (MCF) and mission operations. These phasing burns take advantage of the vehicle’s orbital mechanics: small, well-timed impulses at perigee or apogee until the orbit is circularised at the planned geostationary altitude at around 36000 Km. 

Ground-segment, tracking, and mission control

The very sight of the rocket launch is a memorable experience, no matter how many times we witness it. The launch site with rows of monitoring scientists with computers and the large screen which shows the path of the rocket in flight is made visible by ISRO’s Telemetry. The Tracking and Command network (ISTRAC) — a distributed constellation of ground stations — provides continuous tracking and telemetry of the rocket from lift-off to spacecraft separation. Stations at Sriharikota, Port Blair, Thiruvananthapuram, Mauritius, Brunei and Biak (Indonesia), and the Mission Operations Complex in Bengaluru are part of the long-standing TTC architecture that monitors the vehicle’s health and sends telecommands as required. Once the satellite separates, the Master Control Facility at Hassan (and the MCF node at Bhopal) assumes command responsibility for early orbit operations, payload health checks, solar array deployments and the initial orbit-raising burns. 

The satellite: multiband payload and operational significance

CMS-03 (GSAT-7R) is a purpose-built, multi-band communications satellite for the Indian Navy and national stakeholders. ISRO brief describes that the satellite is capable of providing UHF, S, C and Ku-band services. Those bands together support secure voice, high-data-rate video and encrypted command-and-control links between ships, aircraft, submarines (surface ships use UHF/S bands to reach submerged platforms via relays) and shore centres. The satellite’s stated operational life is roughly 15 years — a typical design life that balances fuel margin, orbital perturbation management and payload degradation. Over that window, the satellite will underpin network-centric naval operations, maritime domain awareness, and high-capacity data links for civil and strategic users across the Indian Ocean Region. 

Voices from the control room and the strategic horizon

From the Mission Control Centre, ISRO Chairman V. Narayanan hailed the “precise injection” and noted the vehicle’s performance was textbook — language that captures the twin facts of engineering exactitude and institutional confidence. ISRO mission leadership also highlighted the successful reignition of the cryogenic upper stage — a non-trivial capability that pays dividends for complex trajectories and future human missions. ISRO has explicitly linked LVM3’s maturation to the Gaganyaan human-spaceflight programme: the same family of technologies, scaled and certified for crew safety, form the engineering backbone of India’s next frontier in human spaceflight. 

What this means for the next decade and a half, technically, the mission confirms LVM3’s capacity to loft heavier payloads to GTO, easing constraints on spacecraft designers. Operationally, CMS-03 immediately augments India’s maritime communications and, over the medium term (years) enhances interoperability with other national assets. Strategically, this is an incremental but clear signal: sovereign launch capability for heavy defence and dual-use satellites reduces external dependency and accelerates India’s space-enabled resilience. 

India's forthcoming space missions encompass lunar sample return, a domestic space station architecture and crewed flights, each of which needs exacting standards of “rocket science” precision and yesterday’s success of the LVM3-M5 positioning the GSAT-7R into its intended Geostationary Transfer Orbit (GTO) augurs well for ISRO's future mission.

May ISRO continue to make the nation proud and unite the nation as Cricket does, when we celebrate as one nation, one people, whenever we win tournaments, like the one that the Indian Women’s team which won the World Cup yesterday 

Jai Jawan, Jai Kisan and Jai Vigyan

Jai Hind

Remembering the Centenarian Prof. E.V. Chitnis, on his passing this morning – 22 October 2025.

 

This morning Suhas Naik Satam, Secretary, NCSC, posted the tragic news on the passing of Dr Chitnis in Pune, based on the information that he received from Dr Chetan Chitnis so of Dr EV Chitnis. Dr EV Chitnis suffered a cardiac arrest and was rushed to the hospital where he succumbed to the cardiac arrest early this morning – 22 October, 2025. In his passing, India has lost one of its most enduring space visionaries. Dr. Eknath Vasant Chitnis, a close confidant of Dr Sarabhai - the founding father of the Indian Space Research Organisation (ISRO) - and a Padma Bhushan awardee, lived remarkable life of 100 years (Prof Chitnis was born on 25 July 1925). In the annals of human history very few people have the honour of celebrating their own birth centenary; from amongst those there are few parallels to the veritable and a nation building life that  Dr EV Chitnis lived, during which his achievements in laying the foundation for one of the most loved scientific institutions in the country – ISRO and its precursor INCOSPAR - as founding secretary of INCOSPAR and as a scientist, are truly remarkable.

Just months earlier, in July, 2025, on his birth centenary, the National Centre for Science Communicators (NCSC), had organized a grand centenary tribute conference to Dr Chitnis at the Indian Institute of Science Education and Research (IISER) in Pune, celebrating the life of this "living legend." I was privileged to be one of the members of NSCS who helped plan for this befitting conference. The event, attended by luminaries from India's space fraternity. This conference underscored the profound impact Chitnis had on the nation's scientific journey. As we mourn his passing, it is fitting to reflect on his remarkable contributions—not just to space technology, but to the transformational impact that his contributions to the Satellite Instruction Television Experiment (SITE) program had on the social fabric of rural India. Chitnis was a bridge between the vision that Dr Sarabhai had to bring the applications of space to the people of India and to its implementation in using space technology for societal upliftment.

Born on July 25, 1925, in Maharashtra, Eknath Vasant Chitnis completed his education in physics which laid the foundation for a career that would intersect with the birth of India's space program. Chitnis joined the Physical Research Laboratory (PRL) in Ahmedabad - an institution founded by Dr Vikram Sarabhai - where he conducted pioneering research on cosmic rays. It was here that Dr Chitnis’s brilliance was noticed by Dr. Sarabhai. the visionary architect of India's space ambitions. Incidentally, the Nehru Science Centre in collaboration with NCSC had organised a Birth Centenary conference in memory of Dr Sarabhai at the Nehru Science Centre, in August 2020 and among the luminaries who spoke during this conference was Dr Chitnis, although his talk was in the form of a video recorded interview that he gave to my NCSC colleague Suhas Naik Satam, Secretary NCSC, in which he recollected his association with Dr Sarabhai and the team role in building ISRO and its precursor (INCOSPAR).  Dr. Sarabhai, recognizing Chitnis's sharp scientific acumen and humanistic approach, brought him into the fold of the Indian National Committee for Space Research (INCOSPAR), the precursor to ISRO.

Chitnis's early role was pivotal. As the founder member secretary of INCOSPAR, he was instrumental in laying the groundwork for India's space infrastructure. One of his first major tasks was scouting locations for rocket launching stations. It was Chitnis who helped Sarabhai identify the Thumba in Kerala as the ideal site for the Thumba Equatorial Rocket Launching Station (TERLS), due to its proximity to the magnetic equator—a decision that propelled India's entry into space research. This choice was not arbitrary; but path breaking, it reflected Chitnis's meticulous attention to scientific detail and his ability to foresee long-term benefits. As Kiran Karnik, former director of ISRO's Development and Educational Communication Unit (DECU), recalled during the centenary conference, Chitnis's strategic foresight was evident even in those nascent days: "He was the quiet force behind Sarabhai's bold visions, ensuring that every step was grounded in practicality."

The 1960s and 1970s were transformative for India's space program, and Chitnis was at the heart of it. Following Sarabhai's untimely death in 1971, Chitnis took on the mantle of operationalizing the Space Applications Centre (SAC) in Ahmedabad, becoming its director in 1972. Under his leadership, SAC evolved into a hub for applying space technology to real-world problems, from remote sensing to telecommunications. But it was the Satellite Instructional Television Experiment (SITE) - one of the three visionary projects alongside the Aryabhata satellite and Space Launching Vehicle (SLV) - that truly defined his legacy—a project that Sarabhai had dreamed of, which Chitnis brought to fruition.

SITE, launched in 1975 in collaboration with NASA, was a path breaking initiative that used the ATS-6 satellite – sourced from NASA, USA - to beam educational and developmental programs directly to rural India. SITE, covering over 2,400 villages across six states—Andhra Pradesh, Bihar, Karnataka, Madhya Pradesh, Orissa, and Rajasthan— experiment ran for a full year, from August 1, 1975, to July 31, 1976. Chitnis spearheaded the selection process for these villages, ensuring they represented the most underserved regions. A UNESCO report on SITE, titled "The SITE Experience," detailed how this selection was a meticulous exercise in social engineering, prioritizing areas with high illiteracy and poverty rates to maximize impact. The report highlighted challenges like technical glitches—on average, 16% of broadcast time faced issues—but praised the project's success in delivering content on agriculture, health, family planning, and education. This was the beginning of India harvesting the benefits of space technology for the social good of its people, a vision so prophetically envisaged by ISRO founder Dr Sarabhai.

What made SITE revolutionary was its focus on "democratizing access to technology," as Chitnis himself often emphasized. It wasn't just about transmission; it was a well-researched social intervention. Villages received community television sets, often placed in schools or panchayat halls, turning them into hubs of learning. Farmers learned modern agricultural techniques, women gained knowledge on hygiene and nutrition, and children accessed basic education. The project's success was quantified in various studies: literacy rates improved in targeted areas, and health awareness campaigns reduced incidences of preventable diseases. UNESCO's "Planning for Satellite Broadcasting: The Indian Instructional Television Experiment" further elaborated on how SITE's software—program content—was as critical as the hardware, with Chitnis overseeing interdisciplinary teams of scientists, educators, and sociologists.

Colleagues who worked closely with Chitnis during SITE offer poignant insights into his leadership. Kiran Karnik, who joined ISRO in the 1970s and later led DECU, described Chitnis as a mentor who blended rigor with empathy. In a recent article marking the 50th anniversary of SITE, Karnik wrote, "Prof. Chitnis turned technology into a tool for real-life use, not just missions. His attention to detail in planning SITE ensured it wasn't a fleeting experiment but a blueprint for future innovations." Karnik recounted how Chitnis insisted on field visits to villages, often traveling to remote areas to understand ground realities. "He believed in humanity above all," Karnik noted in a LinkedIn post, reflecting on their shared experiences.

Pramod Kale, who succeeded Chitnis as SAC director, shared similar sentiments at the Pune conference. Kale, a key figure in India's early satellite programs, praised Chitnis's ethical guidance: "He was a leader who taught us that science must serve society. During SITE, he navigated bureaucratic hurdles and international collaborations with grace, ensuring India's voice was heard in global forums." Kale's reflections, drawn from his own memoirs and interviews, highlight Chitnis's role in fostering a collaborative culture at ISRO. In a YouTube interview on Indian space history, Kale recalled how Chitnis mentored young engineers, including himself, emphasizing interdisciplinary approaches.

Y.S. Rajan, another ISRO stalwart and co-author with A.P.J. Abdul Kalam on books like "India 2020," worked alongside Chitnis during the formative years. Rajan's archives, preserved at the National Centre for Biological Sciences, include correspondence that reveals Chitnis's influence on space policy. In his writings, Rajan often credits Chitnis for integrating social sciences into space applications. "The trinity of Sarabhai, Kalam, and Chitnis shaped ISRO's ethos," Rajan wrote in an article on the program's early days, noting how Chitnis's work on SITE inspired broader applications in remote sensing and disaster management. Rajan's YouTube interview ahead of Chandrayaan-3 echoed this, praising Chitnis's humility: "He was the unsung hero who made space accessible to the common man."

The ripple effects of SITE extended far beyond its one-year duration. Its success directly influenced the expansion of Doordarshan, India's public broadcaster. In the early 1980s, leveraging lessons from SITE, Doordarshan rolled out over 190 low-power TV transmitters—one nearly every day—a record that transformed television from an urban luxury to a national staple. This paved the way for the communication revolution, with programs like "Krishi Darshan" and "Hum Log" reaching millions. Later it is this TV transmission revolution that helped the Indian Cricket and its administrators (BCCI) to dominate in the world of cricket as a key administrator in the affairs of International Cricket Council (ICC).  As Karnik pointed out, SITE demonstrated that satellite technology could bridge the urban-rural divide, inspiring Doordarshan's golden era in the 1980s. Newspaper reports from the time chronicled how SITE's infrastructure laid the groundwork for INSAT satellites, enabling direct-to-home transmissions that benefited rural populations.

Post-SITE, Chitnis led the Kheda Communications Project in Gujarat, a follow-up that used television for socio-economic change in dairy farming communities. Retiring from ISRO in 1985 after receiving the Padma Bhushan, he settled in Pune, where he taught at Pune University and continued advocating for science education. His son, Dr. Chetan Chitnis, a renowned malaria researcher and Padma Shri recipient, shared personal anecdotes at the centenary event: "My father taught us that true progress lies in inclusivity. He lived simply, valuing family and ethics above accolades."

Chitnis's legacy is etched in ISRO's DNA. As the organization achieves milestones like Chandrayaan-3, his emphasis on applications for societal good remains central. Research papers, such as those in Science Direct on ISRO's culture, credit him with fostering an innovative, people-centric environment. In a world chasing Mars and the Moon, Chitnis and his mentor Dr Sarabhai, reminded us that space technology's greatest triumph is improving life on Earth.

As we bid farewell to this centenarian pioneer, let us remember him not just for rockets and satellites, but for the light he brought to countless villages.

Prof. E.V. Chitnis's life was a testament to the power of science with a soul. India owes him an eternal debt.

Rest in Peace Dr Chitnis, you and your contributions will ever remain etched in the annals of Indian space programs.

 Images Courtesy : NCSC, Dr PV Venkitakrishnan, Dr Shekhar Mande,  and Indian Express