International Day of Scientific Culture (IDSC) - India’s Scientific Culture: From Harappa to Chandrayaan

 

International Day of Scientific Culture (IDSC) - India’s Scientific Culture: From Harappa to Chandrayaan

Today, September 28, the world observes the International Day of Scientific Culture (IDSC). It is an occasion not only to celebrate the scientific research inventions, and discoveries that is conducted in research laboratories, but also to reflect on the mindset that fuels progress—rationality, observation, critical inquiry, and openness to evidence. For India, this day has a special resonance. I had the honour to be a part of this commemoration this year as one of the speakers at the Gurunanak College of Arts and Sciences, Mumbai, which commemorated this event yesterday. Before I delve on what I spoke yesterday - “India’s Scientific Legacy Rooted in Antiquity” - let me begin with the genesis for commemorating this day-IDSC and how important it is to mark this day, more so in the current context of geopolitical conflict which we are witnessing in the world today.

On 28 September 1980, an American television aired the first episode of Carl Sagan’s “Cosmos: A Personal Voyage”, on the Public Broadcasting Services(PBS). It was a new public conversation aired on TV about who we are and how we know. Cosmos became an instant hit, appealing to its audience and over the years’ millions of people around the world enjoyed this serial, and for many that serial was the first time science was spoken to them in a language which they could connect with. It was a human story — grand, poetic, moral. Cosmos was a classic example of how science can be communicated to the people in a language which could connect with them and for science communicators, yours truly included, Cosmos remains an inspiration.

Sagan taught us that science is a way of seeing. He wrote and spoke as if to remind humanity that “we are a way for the cosmos to know itself.” That phrase, simple and humble, captures why the anniversary of Cosmos matters beyond nostalgia: it marks the moment when scientific knowledge was framed as part of culture, not apart from it.

One enduring image associated with Sagan carries that message more sharply than the Pale Blue Dot. When Voyager 1, far beyond the outer planets, turned its camera back toward Earth, the planet shrank to a speck in a sunbeam — a “pale blue dot.” For Sagan, that image was humbling showing our insignificant yet profoundly singular position in the vast cosmos. It showed us that no other cradle of human life exists in the cosmos. The sight of Earth as a solitary, fragile point revealed our relative smallness in the vast universe, and an overwhelming uniqueness of the world that sustains us.

The core message of Carl Sagan's "Pale Blue Dot" is a profound and direct response to the kind of land conflicts and geopolitical divisions we see today. In his famous passage from the book Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space, he writes: "Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every 'superstar,' every 'supreme leader,' every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there—on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam."  

Sagan's objective was to challenge our sense of self-importance and the "delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe." He explicitly connects this cosmic insignificance to human conflicts, saying:  "Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds."  

Therefore, the concept of the "Pale Blue Dot" is not just about our insignificance; it is a direct and powerful appeal for peace, unity, and a focus on our shared home. By presenting a grand, humbling perspective, Sagan's message advocates that the petty conflicts that consume us are rendered absurd when viewed against the backdrop of an endless cosmos. It calls for a shift from fighting over "a fraction of a dot" to preserving the one and only place we have to make a living in this vast cosmos. This message is more relevant than ever today in encouraging a global focus on sustainability and shared humanity. 

The International Day of Science Culture (IDSC), observed since 2020, helps us remind ourselves of this singularity of our position, even as it exemplifies our uniqueness and encourages us to reach out to schools, colleges, museums, media and civic institutions to treat science as a cultural resource: one that sharpens citizenship, inspires creativity, and equips societies to make better choices. In an age of rapid technological change and contested truths, celebrating science as culture is not an optional nicety — it is a civic necessity.

India’s Scientific Legacy Rooted in Antiquity

Scientific culture is not new to India. The Sindhu Sarasvati (Harappan) Civilisation, which flourished nearly 4500 years ago, displayed remarkable scientific achievements: urban planning with underground drainage, standardised baked bricks, advanced water management, and—most impressively—precision in weights and measures across a vast geography. This standardisation reflects not just craft, but a rational, systematised approach to daily life.

Mathematics and astronomy flourished in the following centuries. The Baudhyayana Sulba Sutras demonstrated geometrical reasoning, including principles akin to the Pythagorean theorem. Aryabhata in the 5th century CE described the Earth’s rotation and offered models of planetary motion. The modern day decimal place value system including the profoundly significant number Zero originated from India and travelled to the world through the Arabs. The Kerala School of Astronomy pioneered infinite series expansions, antedating aspects of calculus long before Newton.

In medicine, the Charaka Samhita and Sushruta Samhita laid the foundations of Ayurveda. Sushruta, often hailed as the father of surgery, detailed surgical instruments and techniques still admired today. Metallurgy was equally advanced—the Delhi Iron Pillar stands rust-free for 1,600 years, and large-scale zinc smelting at Zawar, Rajasthan, points to industrial-level chemical engineering. These achievements were not isolated. They were evidence of a culture where rational thinking, systematic documentation, and practical application of knowledge were respected and transmitted.

This trajectory of growth, however, faced severe interruptions. Centuries of invasions, colonial exploitation, and the dismantling of indigenous institutions weakened India’s scientific pursuits. By the time of Independence, India was portrayed as a land of superstition and poverty, rather than knowledge and innovation.

Yet, India’s scientific culture never fully disappeared. It resurfaced in modern times, when our founding leaders recognised science as central to nation-building. Jawaharlal Nehru famously called industries and academic institutions the “temples of modern India.” The creation of TIFR, IITs, CSIR labs, ISRO, and agricultural research institutes built the foundations for a modern scientific nation. Importantly, our Constitution enshrined the development of a “scientific temper” as a Fundamental Duty—a powerful acknowledgement that rationality is not alien to India but intrinsic to its identity.

In 2017, the London Science Museum showcased this story in its landmark exhibition “Illuminating India: 5000 Years of Science and Innovation.” I had the privilege of contributing to this exhibition as the Nodal Officer. This exhibition offered the world a panoramic view of India’s scientific legacy. It was a reminder that India has always been a source of scientific ideas that shaped human progress—whether the concept of zero, metallurgy, or medical traditions or more recently its success at frugal costs in its successful space endeavours – Chandrayan and Mangalyaan.

Seventy-five years after Independence, India’s scientific culture has once again placed it at the forefront of global science and technology. Our space programme has captured global imagination: the Mars Orbiter Mission succeeded on its maiden attempt at a fraction of the cost of comparable missions; Chandrayaan-3’s soft landing on the Moon’s south pole made history. In digital innovation, India leads the world in developing scalable platforms like Aadhaar and UPI.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, the scientific temper of the nation was put to the test. Despite early challenges, India not only developed indigenous vaccines at record speed but also rolled out the world’s largest vaccination drive. Importantly, the acceptance of vaccines by the Indian public—at a time when hesitancy plagued many Western countries—reflected trust in scientific solutions deeply rooted in cultural attitudes toward health and community.

Yet, the picture is not without concern. Pseudoscience, misinformation, and superstition continue to challenge rational discourse. Social media amplifies unverified claims, eroding trust in evidence-based thinking. To truly honour our civilisational heritage, we must defend scientific culture from these threats.

As we celebrate the International Day of Scientific Culture, let us remember: science in India is not an imported value. It is our inheritance. The world recognised this in London in 2017. Our Constitution enshrines it. Our achievements in space and medicine prove it.

The challenge before us is to ensure that this culture of rationality, inquiry, and innovation is not undermined by misinformation or complacency. If we succeed, India will not only rise as an economic power but also as a beacon of scientific culture for the 21st century.

That would be the true fulfilment of our heritage—and our responsibility to the future.

Blood Moon 2025: From Aryabhata’s Genius to Tonight’s Spectacle

 

Tonight (7–8 September, 2025), the skies over India and much of the world will stage a grand celestial spectacle — a total lunar eclipse, popularly called the Blood Moon, which is already being hyped across media. Though nit as spectacular as the Total Solar Eclipse, the Lunar Eclipse is special because of its longevity in its occurrence and also the fact that it comes with no risk of seeing with naked eye. Tonight, moon, the lone satellite of our planet earth, which has been so romanticised by the Bollywood movies in the past with soulful melodies sung in honour of the full moon, will be bathed in its coppery red hue for more than an hour – 82 minutes to be precise. The lunar eclipse, and the so called blood moon, will be visible to the naked eye across India and can be seen without any special eye protective wearables.

Courtesy wide publicity by the media and special arrangements made in most cities by science centres, and planetariums, this astronomical moment of awe and wonder is sure to attract many to look at the night sky to witness this celestial theatrical play between our planet earth its satellite, the moon and our Sun, whose movements unfold tonight’s celestial spectacle. Unfortunately, there will still be many, pressured by the astrologers, who may believe in age-old myths and rituals; but for science communicators, like yours truly, it is an opportunity to celebrate both nature’s precision and India’s scientific heritage.

Cosmic Clockwork: Geometry of Lunar and Solar Eclipses

What makes eclipses so enchanting is the delicate geometry of the Earth–Moon–Sun system. The Earth, nearly 12,742 km in diameter, is about four times larger than the Moon, which measures 3,474 km across. Yet because the Moon is so much closer — only about 3.84 lakh km from Earth — while the Sun, though 400 times wider than the Moon (about 1.39 million km across), is also about 400 times farther away (roughly 15 crore km), they appear almost the same size in our sky. This cosmic coincidence allows the Moon to neatly cover the Sun during solar eclipses, and lets the Earth’s much larger shadow engulf the Moon during lunar eclipses. All this is orchestrated by the steady motions of rotation and revolution: the Earth spinning on its axis once every 24 hours, the Moon circling Earth every 27 days, and the Earth orbiting the Sun once a year. Tomorrow’s total lunar eclipse is a direct outcome of this elegant celestial clockwork.

Blood Moon

·    Tonight’s, lunar eclipse will commence around 8.58 PM and end at 2.25 AM on 8 September.  The totality of the eclipse, called the blood moon phase will occur between 11PM to 12.22 AM. During the Totality of the lunar eclipse, the moon will not vanish into blackness but glows red. This blood red appearance is a result of the Rayleigh scattering — the same effect that makes our sunsets crimson. As sunlight passes through Earth’s atmosphere, the shorter blue wavelengths are filtered out, while the longer red wavelengths are refracted into the umbra, softly painting the lunar surface in shades of red and orange. Depending on atmospheric conditions — dust, pollution — the Moon will appear bright copper or an eerie dark maroon.

Tomorrow’s eclipse will be one of the longest of the decade. It provides a great opportunity for Mumbaikars and others from across the subcontinent, to gaze at the night sky and look up and marvel at natures wonders.

Supermoons, Blue Moons, and Media Hype

The media often headlines celestial occurrences under captivating headlines Supermoon, Blood Moon, Super Blue Blood Moon. These terms are media inventions — catchy labels designed to capture attention in an age of short attention spans. They are briefly described below.

• A Supermoon occurs when a full Moon coincides with the Moon’s closest approach to Earth, making it appear up to 14% brighter and 7% larger.
• A Blue Moon is simply the second full Moon in a calendar month.
• A Blood Moon is the reddish Moon during totality, which is happening tonight

When all three occur together, as in January 2018, it is hyped as a “Super Blue Blood Moon.” As Director of the Nehru Science Centre at the time, I remember how we hosted public viewing sessions for that rare trifecta — the first in 35 years. Crowds gathered, telescopes were trained, and for a moment, science and wonder blended seamlessly under the Mumbai night sky.

Similarly, on Buddha Purnima, May 26, 2021, amid the gloom of COVID-19 lockdowns, we live-streamed the Supermoon and lunar eclipse for thousands of viewers. Despite Mumbai’s cloudy skies, the brief glimpses we managed felt like precious gifts in dark times.

These past experiences remind me that while hype sells, it also brings people closer to science. Even exaggerated labels have their use — they make the public look up at the heavens.

Myths, Legends, and the Indian Tradition

For millennia, eclipses have evoked a mixture of fear and reverence. In Indian mythology, the demon Rahu is said to swallow the Sun or Moon, causing an eclipse. According to the Puranas, Rahu, having deceitfully consumed a drop of Amrit during the churning of the ocean, was beheaded by Vishnu. The immortal head became Rahu, and the body became Ketu, forever chasing the Sun and Moon across the sky. Such stories infused eclipses with ritual significance. Even today, many households in India observe Sutak, a period of fasting and ritual purity before and during eclipses. People avoid cooking, eating, or making important decisions. While these practices persist, it is also true that India has always nurtured a parallel, scientific tradition and the mythical beliefs and practices are gradually fading out from society, courtesy the public awareness programmes conducted by science communicators, science centres and planetariums.

Aryabhata: The First Indian to Demystify Eclipses

Nearly 1,500 years ago, ancient Indian mathematician and astronomer Aryabhata (476 CE) revolutionized our understanding of celestial mechanics. In his magnum opus, the Aryabhatiya, he:

• Asserted that the Earth is spherical and rotates on its axis once a day.
• Dismissed Rahu and Ketu as mythological constructs, explaining eclipses as shadows of the Earth and Moon.
• Provided mathematical algorithms to predict the timing and size of eclipses with remarkable accuracy.

Aryabhata’s ideas were bold, often ridiculed by contemporaries including Varahamihira and Brahmagupta, who clung to geocentric orthodoxy. Yet his insights endured. Later Indian astronomers like Lalla and Bhaskara I expanded his methods, and through translations, Aryabhata’s models influenced Islamic and European astronomy.

When we watch midnight Blood Moon, we are witnessing precisely the phenomenon Aryabhata described — shadows cast in celestial alignment. To think that such predictive knowledge was developed in India a millennium before Copernicus is a source of pride and inspiration for all Indians.

Long Journey of Eclipses in Science

Eclipses have long been scientific laboratories. The Total solar eclipse of 1868, observed in Guntur, India, led to the discovery of helium — the only element first identified outside Earth. The 1919 total solar eclipse famously confirmed Einstein’s theory of general relativity, as starlight was shown to bend around the Sun’s gravity.

Even today, astronomers study eclipses to better understand atmospheric conditions, both terrestrial and lunar. Each event is not just a spectacle but also an opportunity to test, measure, and learn.

From Fear to Celebration Change in Public Perception

What strikes me most is how India’s relationship with eclipses has transformed over time from fear to celebration. In earlier times, eclipses were feared as bad omens and roads were seen empty and people closed indoors during eclipses. But today, with rising awareness, they are celebrated as community events. Science centres, planetariums astronomy clubs, schools, and citizen groups organise watch parties, often with telescopes and live commentary. One of my school alumni, Dinesh Badagandi operates a fleet of mobile planetariums under the banner of Tare Zameen Par across Karnataka and adjoining states to create awareness on astronomy and space and an impact assessment study commissioned by the state Government of Karnataka has emphasises its positive impact across the schools in the state of Karnataka.

I am reminded of Prof. Yash Pal, whose live TV commentary during the 1995 Total Solar Eclipse helped millions shed superstition and embrace the eclipse as a natural wonder. His work, and that of countless science communicators, has turned eclipses from portents of doom into festivals of learning. I fondly recall that during an annular solar eclipse in Delhi, the National Science Centre, of which I was the Director had made special arrangement for viewing the solar eclipse and one of the arrangements included a free breakfast for all the visitors, main aim was to dispel the myth of food getting poisoned during eclipse. Almost every visitor, some of them after initial hesitation, joined us in taking food during the eclipse helping bust the myths associated with eclipses.

Tomorrow’s event gives us another chance to continue this tradition — to inspire young minds, to foster curiosity, and to remind ourselves of our place in the cosmos.

 A Midnight Invitation

As midnight approaches on September 7, 2025, step outside. Look up at the Moon as it turns red in Earth’s shadow. Think of the myths of Rahu, the genius of Aryabhata, the experiments of modern scientists, and be happy to be blessed to find our own unique place in this vast universe with billions of galaxies each having billions of their own solar systems with their own planets and their moons, yet as we know today we are perhaps alone in this universe and let us all be proud of our position and let us all join hands in protecting our planet.

The Lunar eclipse which we will witness is not just a spectacle for our eyes, but also for the mind and spirit. A reminder that the same Moon that inspired poets, puzzled ancient sky-watchers, and challenged mathematicians still shines (reflected light) upon us, timeless and unchanging.

So tonight, let us celebrate not fear. Let us observe not merely with our eyes, but with wonder and gratitude. For in the story of an eclipse, we glimpse both the poetry of myth and the precision of science — and the eternal human quest to understand the heavens.

Happy viewing

The Guru Shishya Parampara: From Shiva’s Guru Gita to India’s Science Labs, Guru’s teachings Endure

Every year on 5th September, we in India pay tribute to our teachers by celebrating the day as Teachers Day, in memory of Dr Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan, a renowned philosopher and the second President of India, whose birthday, 5^th September, was chosen to honour his belief that education is the bedrock of society and teachers are its architects. Dr. Radhakrishnan believed in the importance of education and the role of teachers in fostering education. When some of his students sought his permission to celebrate his birthday, Dr Radhakrishnan, suggested that instead of celebrating his personal birthday, he suggested that this day should be dedicated to the selfless service of all the teachers in India. Accordingly, 5 September 1962, his 77th birthday, marked the first observance of Teachers' Day and the tradition has continued ever since. This day provides us an opportunity to recognise the vital role the teachers play in shaping the lives and future of students.

This day also reminds us that in our ancient civilisation, teaching was never seen as a mere profession—it was a vocation, almost a sacred duty. This is evidenced by a masterpiece timeless invocation of a verse which captures this spirit:

“Gurur Brahma, Gurur Vishnu, Gurur Devo Maheshwara,

Gurur Sakshat Param Brahma, Tasmai Shri Gurave Namah.”

(The Guru is the Creator, the Preserver, and the Destroyer. The Guru is undoubtedly the Supreme Reality. To that illustrious Guru, I bow in reverence.) The above text is part of the Guru Gita of the Skanda Purana. This sacred text is presented as a dialog between Goddess Uma (Parvathi) and Lord Shiva, where Lord Shiva explains from the mount Kailasa to his consort the significance of the Guru in the path to Spiritual liberation.

Living up to this tradition of reverence for Guru was the brilliant physicist Nobel laureate, Sir C.V. Raman. In 1954, the first Bharat Ratna awards were announced in India. The illustrious list of the awardees included Dr. Radhakrishnan in whose honour we celebrate this day, C. Rajagopalachari, and Prof C.V. Raman. An anecdotal reference cited by Dr APJ Abdul Kalam, provides an insight on Prof Raman as a dedicated teacher. Dr Kalam recalls in many of his lectures, which has also been covered in Indian Express, that an invitation was sent to Raman by the Rashtrapati Bhavan to receive the nation’s highest civilian award, Bharat Ratna. Yet, Raman sent a polite letter of regret, informing that he would not be able to make it to the ceremony. The reason was not a prior international commitment which he had or ill health. It was a commitment that Raman - presumed he had, to one of his students, a devoted PhD student whose thesis submission deadline coincided with the Bharat Ratna receiving ceremony of Prof Raman. For Raman, his duty as the PhD guide of his student was paramount, even over a Bharat Ratna reception award for him.

This anecdote, chronicled by President APJ Abdul Kalam, is a story of dedication of Raman to his PhD student. Dr. Kalam called it the finest demonstration of Raman the teachers’ devotion to his student. For Raman, the truest award was not the medal which would be conferred to him in a monumental ceremonial hall, but the successful completion of a student’s work.

Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar, Sir CV Raman’s nephew, carried forward the same ethos of commitment of the teacher to their students to another level in his own career as one of the twentieth century’s greatest astrophysicists. His scientific journey itself illustrates how brilliance can coexist with humility. In the 1930s, as a student barely in his twenties at Cambridge, Chandrasekhar worked out the physics of electron degeneracy pressure inside dying stars. He showed that above a certain critical mass—now immortalized as the Chandrasekhar Limit—a white dwarf could not support itself against gravity and must collapse further, ultimately giving rise to neutron stars or black holes.

When Chandrasekhar presented his profound work before the Royal Astronomical Society in 1935, his senior contemporary, Sir Arthur Eddington, one of the greatest astrophysicists of his time, ridiculed it publicly as “stellar buffoonery.” The humiliation in front of a distinguished audience coerced Chandrasekhar to leave the U.K. and take up a position in the United States at the University of Chicago. Chandra joined at the Yerkes Observatory, Chicago University in 1937 where spent more than a quarter of a century, a large part of his scientific career. Despite the personal humiliation, Chandra never spoke disrespectfully of Eddington, continuing to refer to him with regard and respect as his mentor and guru. It was an act of dignity rooted in the very ethos of Guru–Śhishya Parampara—to respect the lineage of knowledge even when wronged. It resonates with the epic story of reverence that Ekalavya had for his imaginary guru, Dhronacharya. The epic tale of Ekalavya, who offered his thumb as guru dakshina to Dronacharya, is the ultimate, albeit extreme, symbol of this commitment. It speaks to a reverence that places the Guru’s word above one’s own ambition. S Chandra coming from a background so deeply rooted in these Indian ethos, practiced and exemplified this ethos in his respect for Eddington, who literally had ended his career in Cambridge. Although the criticism of Eddington was a devastating blow that delayed recognition to Chandra for decades, yet Chandra never publicly expressed bitterness for Eddington. He continued to respect Eddington, acknowledging his debt to him. In this, he exhibited a grace that is the hallmark of a true shishya—understanding that the path of learning sometimes requires weathering a Guru’s imperfections.

S Chandrasekhar embodied the timeless reverence for Guru as seen in the verses Guru Gita of Skhanda Purana. Chandra’s biographer, Kameshwar Wali, based on an anecdotal reference – that has now become one of the great legends of Chandra, which President John T. Wilson loved to tell - chronicles the commitment of Chandra to his students. Prof S Chandrasekhar would drive over a hundred miles from the Yerkes Observatory to the University of Chicago every week, to teach an advanced class in astrophysics to a class of two students: T.D. Lee and C.N. Yang. His selfless investment as a Guru to his two students, honed their genius. Years later, they won the Nobel Prize in 1957 for overthrowing the fundamental law of parity—a true act of intellectual destruction of dogma, a lesson well-learned from their Guru. Lee and Young were just 32 and 37 when they won the Nobel Prize contrary to their Guru – Chandra, who had to wait for another 26 years to receive his coveted Nobel Prize, in 1983.

Dr. Kalam, a legend shaped by teachers, loved to narrate the story of his mentor, Prof. Satish Dhawan. In 1979, when the first Indian SLV-3 mission, headed by Kalam, failed it was Dhawan, the Chairman of ISRO, who faced the criticism including facing the combative press for its failure. Prof Dhawan, as a true Guru, shielded his team and his protégé Dr Kalam from criticism. A year later, when the very same mission succeeded, Dhawan credited Kalam for the success of SLV 3. In this act, Dhawan defined leadership not as command, but as service—the highest form of being a Guru.

Yet in today’s world—inundated with online tutorials, artificial intelligence, and instant information—it is fair to ask: do we still need the Guru? The answer, as India’s history and science both testify, is an unequivocal yes. The Guru has never been merely a transmitter of information. The Guru is creator, preserver, and destroyer—creator of knowledge, preserver of tradition, destroyer of ignorance and ego. The Guru is both timeless and timely, yet utterly relevant in an age of artificial intelligence.

Today, as we celebrate the Teachers Day, we are not just celebrating a profession. We are celebrating our national ethos, which continues to whisper, albeit attenuated largely, in the corridors of our premier institutes, where a professor stays back to guide a struggling student, motivates his students just as Prof MM Sharma did to one of his Shishya, Mukesh Ambani, who as a mark of his reverence to his Guru, pledged a whopping Rs 151 Crores to the ICT, where Prof MM Served. It echoes in the determination of a scientist who chooses a thesis submission over a national award.

The Guru-Shishya Parampara is India’s timeless principle for excellence. It exemplifies that the highest knowledge does not come from AI or from the vast digital resources; it must be transmitted, with compassion, integrity, and sometimes, immense personal sacrifice by the Guru to the students. From Kailash, the abode of Lord Shiva, from where he passed on his wisdom to Parvati, to the laboratories where Raman and Chandrasekhar nurtured their students and future Nobel laureates, the message is consistent: a civilisation that honours its teachers ultimately honours its own future.

On this Teachers' Day, we bow to them all—Tasmai Śrī Gurave Namaḥ.