Should we prepare the mind before entering the world? The importance of this question
cannot be neglected. Ever since the dim pre-historic past, our Rishis invested considerable
time in studying the nature of the human mind. To some Rishis it was a full-time occupation
just as some of our modern scientists became singularly absorbed in their experiments
even at the neglect of sleep and food. The discoveries of the Rishis were amazingly
profound. The Vedic Rishis and subsequent sages like Patanjali, documented some of these
discoveries which may be found in the Upanishads, Patanjali's Yoga Sutras, the Bhagavad Gita,
etc. These psychological and metaphysical discoveries constitute a rich heritage that is
open to anyone to study and use. At times of confusion or when we face a dilemma we can always
go back to this resource for guidance. In recent times Sri Ramakrishna and Swami Vivekananda gave a
modern focus to this ancient wisdom.
How did the Rishis view this pertinent question: Should the mind be prepared before entering
the world? The answer that came from their unparalleled experience of this subject has always
been an affirmative 'yes'. The world is always a mixture of good and bad. At all times there are
favourable as well as adverse forces that play in the crucible of Nature. Favourable influences,
circumstances and events bring benefit to the mind in some way or the other. It is the adverse
effects of the world that are of deep concern. Invariably they effect pain and misery. Human
nature is averse to suffering. The mind constantly seeks means to avoid unhappiness. Hence the
need to prepare the mind for inevitable adverse effects.
An unprepared mind that confronts the world is like a person who enters a battlefield
without protection. An individual devoid of swimming skills risks his or her life upon
entering a choppy sea. In a similar outlook the mind should be trained or prepared before
facing the world.
Today it is lamentable that a large number of young people, following the lure
of pleasures, rush into the world without the necessary physical maturity nor the
mental capacity to withstand the shocks of the world. Seeking pleasures and a sense
of responsibility should be intelligently linked with each other. The Lord cautions
us in the Bhagavad Gita (16:16):
"Bewildered by many a fancy,
entangled in the meshes of delusion,
addicted to the gratification of the senses,
they fall into a foul hell."
Our Rishis therefore formulated the Brahmacharya Ashrama. From childhood
till the age of twenty five the young person is to invest his or her time
and effort in training the mind, developing character and personality, being
astute at learning and efficient in selfless service. Prayer, meditation,
study of the scriptures, developing virtues and, importantly, celibacy
constituted the formula for success. History has taught us that those
that led this type of life, concentrating as they did on personal development,
emerged as better human beings, strengthened and fortified, to face the world.
This lifestyle invested the individual with will-power, skills and erudition,
the capacity to discern between good and bad and a spiritual outlook with qualities
like non-violence, integrity, compassion, etc. Who would not want to invest time in
such preparatory work in order to enjoy a more full and satisfying life? The time
spent in frivolous talk, unproductive entertainment and useless activities may be
better utilised by effort in personal development. This training is our only
protection against the miseries of the world. Spirituality is the only antidote
for worldly miseries. Sri Ramakrishna compared it to a person who wears shoes
before walking over a place where there are too many thorns! The ancient ideals
of the Brahmacharya Ashrama need to be seriously considered by our rising
generation.
In Holy Company - Sri Dilip Kumar Roy
(Sri Dilip Kumar Roy was a disciple of Sri Aurobindo and the author of a number of books.
He was also a gifted singer and talented musician. In this article he reflects upon his early
contact with the Ramakrishna Movement. His love for Sri Ramakrishna made him a life-long admirer
and worshipper of the Great Master.)
We were with my father in Calcutta in a house he had built in 1908 or thereabout.
I was then only eleven years old. As I did not want to go to school, a private tutor
was engaged to teach me english, mathematics, history and geography. My mother tongue,
Bengali, I had mastered earlier through reading our epics, Puranas, novels, plays and my
father's famous dramas. I was a voracious reader. Sanskrit I learned to love two years
later, especially its melodious meters, when I was sent to a school near our house.
In 1913 I matriculated and won a scholarship, getting high marks in sanskrit and mathematics.
But to come to the first impact of Grace which booned me with faith through the
agency of a cousin I came to idolize. His name was Nirmalendu. I called him Nirmalda,
the suffix da denoting elder brother.
He hailed from Shantipur, the home of my ancestor I have already mentioned - the great
saint Advaita Goswami. His father, my uncle, was not only a deeply religious man but a
saintly soul who, after my aunt's death, had opened himself to Krishna and literally lived
for Him, the Lord of His heart.
After passing the matriculation examination, Nirmalda had to go in for the Intermediate in
Arts and so was sent to Calcutta where my father invited him tostay with us. On my part, it
was a case of love at first sight. He also grew fond of me and we used to read, play and eat
together. He was an extremely handsome youth and had marked histrionic talents. As my father
had won eminence as a dramatist, Nirmalda used to recite enthusiastically ever so many passages
from his dramas, which drew us together in a still closer bond, for I, too, loved to recite noble
exhortations and declamations.
But it was not long before I discovered, to my great joy, that Nirmalda was an authentic devotee.
I had, indeed, been already initiated in God-love through my father's soul-stirring songs, but
as he disclaimed the title of a devotee I prayed for the beneficent contact of a person who loved
the Lord from the heart, and lo, here was the blessed answer to my prayer - Nirmalda! As I came to
know him more I was delighted to discover that he had the gift also to communicate the light which
his father had lit in his heart. Besides, he was an ardent worshipper of Sri Ramakrishna - so much
so that his eyes used to glisten when he talked eloquently of Mother Kali coming in person to Sri
Ramakrishna. But though I was a believer at heart I found this a little difficult to accept. No wonder,
for in our milieu I had heard my father's intellectual friends laugh at this tall claim of Sri Ramakrishna.
They challenged: "How could the Infinite Divine assume a human form and speak to His devotees in a human
tongue?" "God may indeed exist," they judicially conceded, "but how could He possibly accept human
limitations? Would not that be absurd? He may guide us mortals from on high but how could He seek birth
as a human being or flash before the devotee in the garb of humanity? It would be sheer blasphemy to
equate the Spirit with flesh," and so forth. Years later I read in Sri Aurobindo's Essays on the Gita:
"Far from the Infinite being unable to take on finiteness, the whole universe is nothing but that; we
can see, look as we may, nothing else at all in the whole wide world we inhabit. Far from the spirit being
incapable of form or disdaining to connect itself with form of matter or mind and to assume a limited
nature or body, all here is nothing but that, the world exists only by that connection,that assumption."
But at that time I was in my teens and found the scoffing repudiation of the Divine seeking birth as, or
coming in, a human form to man utterly disturbing.
But Nirmalda was not to be shaken. Had he not borne witness to his father's mystic trance - samadhi -
and heard him speak of his contact with the Invisible Krishna? So he outscoffed the scoffers, laughing
to scorn their pedantic sophistry based on their ignorance of the Divine lila, cosmic play. Not that he
could parry their thrusts effectively if challenged face to face. But then he was not pitted against them.
He had to deal, in private, with me, his beloved ward, who hovered, ill at ease, between faith and disbelief.
But when all is said and done, it is the force of personality which has the last word - as I stressed
at the very start. Nirmalda was a tough nut to crack and though not an authentic intellectual, was intelligent
enough to convince me with his arguments, the more so as they stemmed from his firm faith inspired by the
radiant personality of his father who, it was said, walked and talked with Krishna.
Nevertheless my malaise continued or rather visited me from time to time till Nirmalda enjoined me to read
Ramakrishna Kathamrita. "Don't argue from ignorance, my pathetic sage," he bantered. "Be humble and pray
for light to repeal the darkness that makes you believe that croaking with reason is more rewarding than singing
in rapture."
He was wont, as often as not, to taunt me thus. Sometimes I hit back, as I plumed myself on my intelligence,
which many a friend admired, but, alas, Nirmalda generally beat me whenever we debated hotly about things
of the spirit. His, of course, was the advantage inthat he could affirm, with at least a second hand certainty,
that the Lord does come to His devotees to efface the darkness of ignorance.
As I have said, I was already versed in the lore of the Spirit, thanks to my study of our epics and scriptures.
But the vividness, beauty and simplicity of Sri Ramakrishna's words all but swept me off my feet. Indeed, he
spoke like a man with authority (as they said of Jesus), a status with which the Mother Herself had come to
invest him, visiting his samadhi and explaining at every step how he was to comport himself and deal with his
devotees who would come, one after another, a radiant retinue. His laughter, wit, repartees and, above all,
his childlike candor alternating with his vibrant testimony about the Divine Reality - all this made a deep
dent in my adolescent mind, thirsty for the rain of light in the desert of ignorance.
But though Sri Ramakrishna's words induced in me the will to faith, for the time being the net result was
vacillation: to believe or not to believe, to welcome or to reject, to aspire to the epiphany or accept
it only tentatively? After a good deal of wavering, I decided to "wait and see," a la Asquith, and shook
my head. It was at once too good to be true and too true to be dismissed - true because the radiant personality
of Sri Ramakrishna declared unambiguously that no sincere call to the Mother's light could remain unanswered;
whoever sought Her nectar in all humility must win Her showers of Grace. I know now, though I did not know
it for certain at the time, that it was this, Her Grace, which booned me with the faith I hungered for.
Otherwise I could not have been electrified by his mystic assurance that the Mother is not a myth but a
vivid and everlasting reality, as anyone who appeals to Her may verify by the response of Her beneficent smile.
Even alternating as it did with my doubts, this certitude gave me not a little relief in my lonely pilgrimage
to the Divine, for which I have to thank Nirmalda who came to me in my adolescence to countervail the
beguiling falsehoods of scientific materialism. In this way, again and again in my life, the most precious
boons were borne to me first and foremost through the personalities I have loved. I mean, my faith in Sri
Ramakrishna was buttressed by Nirmalda's assertion that Sri Ramakrishna was the Messiah of our age - the
Yugavatar - and as such could not possibly mislead us by unverifiable or unwarranted pronouncements.
I still recall how Nirmalda upbraided me one day for my hesitation to accept Sri Ramakrishna's testimony.
"But how can you take me to task," I complained, "when his statements were not written by him, but merely
attested to by one of his disciples? How can one be sure that 'Sri Ma' was a faithful reporter? Surely you
don't claim that he used to keep a record of it all, in detail, in a diary from day to day?" Nirmalda leaped
up and roared: "That is exactly what he did, you skeptic! Come, I will take you straight to him and prove
it to the hilt."
I have mentioned already that "Sri Ma" was the pseudonym of Sri Mahendra Nath Gupta, a favorite disciple
of the Messiah. He was headmaster of a very good school, Morton Institution. I had heard of him and,
naturally, my curiosity often goaded me to try to meet him face to face, although when Nirmalda invited
me to accompany him to the great chronicler I felt not a little shy. But Nirmalda dragged me into his
presence - a willing prisoner in whose heart joy vied with alarm for mastery. Lo, to meet "Sri Ma" an
intimate of Sri Ramakrishna! Joy, joy, joy! But how could I stand before him without withering away! A
deep fear gripped me.
But "Sri Ma" was not in the least formidable: he was compassion itself. What beautiful eyes, large
and expressive, what a light on his face and last, though not least, what a childlike smile which made
him despite his beard, look so young and eminently approachable!
After Nirmalda had bowed down to the ground at his feet and I followed suit, he asked me kindly who
I was. I told him. "Oh, you are the great D. L. Roy's son!" he exclaimed. "Blessed, blessed boy,
to have such a noble father! Come, come! Don't be shy, draw nearer, come, sit here, close to me."
He caressed my face with his hand, appraising me with an affectionate scrutiny.
I was delighted, my misgivings just conjured away. I sat beside him with bowed head, my heart going pit-a-pat.
After a while he placed his hand on my shoulder and asked: "Now tell me, my boy, what has made you call on me?"
I met his kindly eyes and answered: "I have come, sir, to hear about Thakur" - meaning Sri Ramakrishna.
He was galvanized and shouted: "Prabhash! Prabhash! Just come, come running! Look, this little boy has come to hear
from me about Thakur, fancy that!" Then turning to me: "Look, my dear boy, how my hair has stood on end!"
And I looked in amazement: his body was indeed shivering with ecstasy and every single hair on his hand stood
on end while his eyes glistened with unshed tears!
"What devotion for the guru!" I said, thrilled, to myself. I touched his feet with my forehead. He gathered
me up tenderly.
"You are blessed, my boy! Thrice blessed to have been called by Thakur's Grace!"
Then he talked and talked about Sri Ramakrishna, laying stress on his Love Divine and relating incidents
about his purity and simplicity which no human being could boast. Thereafter he showed me his treasured diaries,
bound in morocco, wherein lay recorded for all time the "nectarous words" of one who had come to appease the agelong
thirst of countless way-lost mortals.
I was simply overwhelmed. For such a great devotee to have come down to the level of an unknown teenager and
speak to him of his great guru's divinity! For to him, as to millions of other devotees in India and abroad,
Sri Ramakrishna was and is still looked upon as an incarnation of Love Divine and immaculate purity. He pointed
to a framed picture on the wall, an enlarged photograph of the Master, and said: "Look, it was taken by a devotee
when he was in samadhi. When, the next day, it was shown to Thakur he smiled and said: 'A day will come when this
picture will be worshipped by millions.' Now tell me, wasn't he a prophet?"
My eyes filled. He drew me to him and then startled me by an unexpected remark.
"Before you go, my boy," he said, "I would like to make you one request."
Request! I stared at him in blank amazement.
"You are born blessed in having such a great father," he went on. "Promise me you'll keep a record of his
jeweled sayings, will you?"
I nodded mechanically, still dumbfounded. He appraised me with his glistening eyes and amended: "And not only
your father's sayings. Whenever you meet a great man, you must put on paper any memorable words that fall
from his lips. You had best keep a diary, as I have."
I do not know what impelled him to make such a strange request to a mere schoolboy. Can it be that one
hero-worshipper knows another? Or had he felt something, some intimation from above? I cannot tell. All I
know is that I have never been able to forget my promise to him, which is the genesis of my book Among the
Great, and later my Bengali reminiscences, entitled Smriticharan, in which I recorded my conversations with
more than a dozen remarkable men whose contact had enriched my life.
The unexpected encouragement of "Sri Ma" not only thrilled me, it effectively changed the course of my
destiny in that I was oriented toward a new call that haunted me. Before I met him I had been quite a normal
boy, a trifle precocious maybe - and as such more enthusiastic about whatever I came to love - but after my
joyous contact with him I went on dreaming about him now and again and woke up often in a rapture. Nirmalda,
who slept on a bed next to mine, sometimes awoke to find me praying with folded hands.
"What are you doing, my little saint?" he said, tapping me affectionately on the shoulder. I felt shy, caught
redhanded. The reason was that in the Kathamrita (the Gospel of the Master) Sri Ramakrishna had said over and
over again that one should always meditate alone, stressing that the less other people know about one's prayers,
the better it is for one. This I could understand even then. For I had a congenital longing to be appreciated
and applauded. But a true aspirant must never yield to such a desire. Sri Ramakrishna said in his homely
patois: "One must meditate mone, kone, bone" - that is, in one's heart, in a corner or in the forest. Nirmalda,
who was my monitor at the time, had annotated this with instances of those who, wanting to be praised and admired
for their piety, were filled with an egotistical sense of superiority which, for an aspirant, must spell disaster.
Fourteen years later, when I accepted Sri Aurobindo as my guide, he emphasized this need for humility which
disclaims the flaunting of one's gifts or achievements. He wrote to me in a letter: "Every artist almost (there
are rare exceptions) has got something of the public man in him, in his vital parts, which makes him crave for
the stimulus of an audience, social applause, satisfied vanity, fame, etc. All that must go if he wants to be a
yogi and his art a service not of man or of his own ego but of the Divine."
Of course, all this I did not know then. I only knew that I felt very happy whenever my school friends or
teachers or relations lauded my musical or other talents. But Nirmalda was not to be caught napping: he chided
me relentlessly whenever he thought an admonition was de rigueur. "Not so fast my dear," he would say. "Remember,
humility is the key and perseverance the passport. The path is long and pitfalls abound. So one can never be too
vigilant..." and so on.
He had, indeed, somewhat unconsciously, become my guardian or, shall I say, torchbearer on this path. I was
a proud boy but as I adored him I did not mind his hectoring me even when I was restless or somewhat disgruntled.
One reason was that he introduced me to a good many sadhus of the Ramakrishna Mission, notably Swami Saradananda,
the famous author of the Messiah's monumental biography (entitled Sri Ramakrishna Lilaprasanga: subsequently
translated and published in English as Sri Ramakrishna the Great Master) which I read again and again in great
joy. I read eagerly two other biographies also of Sri Ramakrishna - one by Ramchandra Dutta, the other by
Gurudas Burman - and a few books of Swami Vivekananda, the more assiduously as Nirmalda was well read in
the Ramakrishna Mission literature and I could not bear to lag behind.
(The above article has been reprinted from, "Pilgrim of the Stars" by Dilip Kumar Roy & Indira Devi;
published by Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, Mumbai, 2002.)
Holy Mother Speaks on Japa and Meditation - Sri Sarada Devi
The mind keeps well when engaged in work. And yet japa, meditation, and prayer are also
specially needed. You must at least sit down once in the morning and again in the evening.
That acts as a rudder to a boat. When one sits in meditation in the evening, one gets a
chance to think of what one has done - good or bad - during the whole day. Next one should
compare the states of one's mind in the preceding day and the present. ... Unless you meditate
in the mornings and evenings along with work, how can you know what you are actually doing?
It is very necessary to have a fixed time for these things. For it cannot be said when the
auspicious moment will come. It arrives so suddenly. No one gets any hint of it beforehand.
Therefore one should observe regularity, however busy one may be with duties. ... Even in the
midst of the most intense activity, one should at least remember God and salute Him.
May your body and mind become pure by repeating the Name of God!
The Mantra purifies the body. Man becomes pure by repeating the Mantra of God. ... It is said,
'The human teacher utters the Mantra into the ear; but God breathes the spirit into the soul.'
As wind removes the cloud, so the Name of God destroys the cloud of worldliness.
Do you know the significance of japa and other spiritual practices? By these, the power of
the sense organs is subdued.
Just see the power of habit. By the law of habit man attains realization by continuous practice of japa.
One has to suffer the consequences of one's deeds. But by repeating the Name of God, you can
lessen its intensity. If you were destined to have a wound as wide as a ploughshare, you will
get a pinprick at least. The effect of karma can be counteracted to a great extent by japa and
austerities.
The boys all come and solicit me earnestly for initiation. They get it and depart. But they
don't make their japa regularly - why regularly, some do nothing at all. ... They take the
mantra with so much sincerity; but why do they not practise at all? Not that it is very hard. If
one but sticks to a little practice, how much joy comes to one! Ah! With what joy and for how
long Jogen (Jogin-Ma) and myself used to make japa at Vrindavan!
(Once a devotee forgot how to count the repetitions of the mantra on his fingers.)
Mother: What does it matter? Repeating the Name of God a fixed number of times, telling the
rosary or counting on fingers, is calculated to direct the mind to God. The natural tendency
of the mind is to run this way and that way. Through these means it is attracted to God. While
repeating the Name of God, if one sees His form and becomes absorbed in Him, one's japa stops.
One gets everything when one succeeds in meditation.
While performing japa, take the Name of God with utmost love, sincerity, and self-surrender.
Before commencing your meditation daily, first think of your utter helplessness in this world
and then slowly begin the practice of sadhana as directed by your Guru.
One should meditate on one's chosen Deity as one goes on making japa. In meditation the face
of the chosen Deity of course comes first; but one should meditate on the whole figure, starting
from the feet upward.
The mind is by nature restless. Therefore, at the outset, to make the mind steady, one may practise
meditation by regulating the breathing a little. That helps to steady the mind. But one must not
overdo it. That heats the brain. You may talk of the vision of God, or of meditation, but remember,
the mind is everything. One gets everything when the mind becomes steady.
The Effect of Work on Character - Swami Vivekananda
This is the one central idea in the Gita: work incessantly, but be not attached to it. Samskara can
be translated very nearly by "inherent tendency". Using the simile of a lake for the mind, every ripple,
every wave that rises in the mind, when it subsides, does not die out entirely, but leaves a mark and
a future possibility of that wave coming out again. This mark, with the possibility of the wave
reappearing, is what is called Samskara. Every work that we do, every movement of the body, every
thought that we think, leaves such an impression on the mind-stuff, and even when such impressions
are not obvious on the surface, they are sufficiently strong to work beneath the surface, subconsciously.
What we are every moment is determined by the sum total of these impressions on the mind. What I am
just at this moment is the effect of the sum total of all the impressions of my past life. This is
really what is meant by character; each man's character is determined by the sum total of these impressions.
If good impressions prevail, the character becomes good; if bad, it becomes bad. If a man continuously
hears bad words, thinks bad thoughts, does bad actions, his mind will be full of bad impressions; and
they will influence his thought and work without his being conscious of the fact. In fact, these bad
impressions are always working, and their resultant must be evil, and that man will be a bad man; he
cannot help it. The sum total of these impressions in him will create the strong motive power for doing
bad actions. He will be like a machine in the hands of his impressions, and they will force him to do evil.
Similarly, if a man thinks good thoughts and does good works, the sum total of these impressions will be
good; and they, in a similar manner, will force him to do good even in spite of himself. When a man has
done so much good work and thought so many good thoughts that there is an irresistible tendency in him to
do good, in spite of himself and even if he wishes to do evil, his mind, as the sum total of his tendencies,
will not allow him to do so; the tendencies will turn him back; he is completely under the influence of
the good tendencies. When such is the case, a man's good character is said to be established.
As the tortoise tucks its feet and head inside the shell, and you may kill it and break it in pieces,
and yet it will not come out, even so the character of that man who has control over his motives and
organs is unchangeably est-ablished. He controls his own inner forces, and nothing can draw them out
against his will. By this continuous reflex of good thoughts, good impressions moving over the surface
of the mind, the tendency for doing good becomes strong, and as the result we feel able to control the
Indriyas (the sense-organs, the nerve-centres). Thus alone will character be established, then alone a
man gets to truth. Such a man is safe for ever; he cannot do any evil. You may place him in any company,
there will be no danger for him.
Dr. Yellapragada SubbaRow: A versatile scientist and maker of miracle drugs - Prof. B Singh
Dr. Yellapragada SubbaRow
(Dr Yellapragada SubbaRow was a genius in oblivion. His silent sacrifices
contributed in a substantial way towards the alleviation of human suffering
and the advancement of science. The author of this article, Prof B Singh, is
a general surgeon attached to the Nelson R Mandela School of Medicine,
University of KwaZulu-Natal. He also serves on the panel of medical professionals
of the Ramakrishna Clinic of South Africa.)
For many, both in the scientific and wider community, Professor Yellapragada SubbaRow
is an unknown personality. On reflection of his career and contributions to science
and mankind, this anonymity represents a great travesty; Professor SubbaRow was a
versatile scientist whose varied contributions to medical science remains vibrant to
date, almost 60 years since his premature demise. Indeed there are several of SubbaRow's
scientific contributions that continue to provide the focus for ongoing scientific research.
The formula to estimate phosphorus, the discovery of phosphocreatinine, adenosine
triphosphate (ATP), folate acid, vitamin B12, aureomycin (the first antibiotic effective
against gram positive and negative bacteria), polymyxin (widely used in cattle feed today),
methotrexate and the effective treatment of filiariasis and malaria are but some of this
remarkable scientist's contributions to humanity.
With such prolific and varied scientific contributions one wonders why SubbaRow has not
received universal acclaim. It is appropriate to mention that earlier discoverers of antibiotics
like Fleming, Chain and Forey for Penicillin and Waksman for Streptomycin were awarded the
Nobel prize for their contributions! Consider further that other Nobel laureates were
honoured for only one major discovery - Roentgen for x-rays, Marie Curie for radium,
CV Raman for the scattering of light by liquids, amongst others! Remarkably SubbaRow's
discoveries were achieved against a backdrop of immense challenges; in the USA of the
1920's he had to negotiate issues of colour prejudice, a foreign culture and immense
financial constraints.
The Early Days
SubbaRow was born on 12 January 1895 in the West Godavari district of Andra Pradesh.
The premature retirement of his father ushered a long period of poverty for his family;
his mother had to sell her mangalasutram to subsidize his studies. In his early days his
performance at school was far from satisfactory.
Following his matriculation he joined the Madras Presidency College for the intermediate
course; he obtained a distinction in mathematics but spurned the suggestion to pursue
further studies in mathematics. As a college student he became increasingly
imbued by the ideals of the Ramakrishna Mission to the extent that he wanted to become
a monk. However his mother declined to give him permission to become a monk. He continued
visiting the ashram and learnt the Vedas, Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gita. The mission
persuaded him to enter the Madras Medical College in 1915 so that he could serve its hospitals
once he qualified as a doctor. His medical studies were hampered by severe financial constraints
and personal turbulence; financial aid came from a prosperous farmer who lent him funds
to continue his medicalstudies. SubbaRow subsequently married the granddaughter of this
benefactor.
During his surgical training his insistence on wearing khadi surgical gowns, his demonstration
of an allegiance to Gandhiji, sufficiently offended the English professor of surgery to the extent
that he was awarded, for medicine, the lesser LM&S certificate rather than the MBBS degree. He
did not commence medical practice as he was entitled to by the LM&S certificate; instead he decided
to go to the United States of America for higher studies in tropical medicine.
In 1921 he obtained admission to undertake a postgraduate course in tropical medicine. The
major hurdle was the funding; his brother Purushottam was in a position to access financial
support from the Kakinada's Malladi Satyalinga Naicker Charities (KMSNC). Tragically Purushottam
died, followed shortly later by his younger brother, Krishnamurti. The premature deaths
of his brothers fuelled SubbaRow's desire to undertake research in tropical medicine.
However, severe financial restraints precluded any plans to study in the USA. The Ayurveda
practitioner who had cured him of the tropical sprue he contracted as a student, Achanta
Lakshmi Pathi, offered him a lectureship at the Madras Ayurvedic College. SubbaRow compiled
a 427 page manuscript on the vegetable drugs of North India which he hoped would be of use
to medical practitioners. However he became dis-enchanted when he noted that his promoter
was not driven by a thirst of knowledge or the desire to open new frontiers in medical science.
Furthermore, he found the facilities and the atmosphere at the Madras institution not conducive
to true research in Ayurveda.
The Migrant Scientist and Researcher
For his research ambitions he saw opportunity in America; the liberal and moral stance of
the then American president, Woodrow Wilson, rather than the estranging British appealed
to him. Gandhiji was his reigning deity, not the King Emperor! He was finally accepted to
undertake postgraduate studies at the School of Tropical Medicine at Harvard Medical School
in April 1923.
The KMSNC could not releasefunds for the first year. Immediate financial support (Rs2500)
was raised by his father-in-law; the ticket fare to New York alone cost Rs1300. When SubbaRow
arrived in Boston on 26 October 1923 he had about US$100, out of which US$50 had to be paid
as advance fees. His real struggle had begun.
The Dean at the School of Tropical Medicine at Harvard University, Dr Strong, assisted financially
so that SubbaRow could register and cover immediate living expenses. Even though a qualified doctor,
SubbaRow could not practice medicine to supplement his income since the Boston hospitals would not
recognize his medical degree.
Thus he took a job as a night porter in the Peter Bent Bingham Hospital for a monthly salary of US$50;
his duties included washing urinals and bedpans.
SubbaRow's life of struggle is reflected in him having to live in a dark and damp basement,
having no clothes other than what he brought from India, being able to just about afford
shredded wheat and milk for food.
Notwithstanding these difficulties, SubbaRow was awarded the Diploma of the Harvard University
School of Tropical Medicine on 1 June 1924. The KMSNC scholarship had by then come through; this
allowed him to enrol in a course in the Department of Biochemistry at Harvard Medical School.
Thus began his association with Dr Cyrus Hartwell Fiske and the turning point in SubbaRow's career.
Midway through his first research project, SubbaRow's probation was ended and he was taken in as
a regular graduate student.
Research at Harvard
Under the guidance of Fiske, SubbaRow in 1925 developed a rapid calorimetric method for the
estimation of inorganicphosphorus, organic phosphorus, organic phosphates and lipoid
phosphorus in blood and urine. The paper written by SubbaRow and Fiske on this subject
is one of the 100 most cited scientific publications according to Science Citation Index.
The self-effacing and respectful SubbaRow was generous to name it as the 'Fiske-SubbaRow'
method instead of the 'SubbaRow-Fiske' method.
Later, when Fiske's promotion as Head of Department of Biochemistry at Harvard was in
jeopardy, SubbaRow gave all credit to Fiske and selflessly minimized his own role. This
loyal sacrifice compromised his subsequent career at Harvard. A follow-up study on the
phosphorus method took SubbaRow and his senior collaborator to discover phosphocreatinine
and adenosine triphosphate (ATP). This discovery (unveiled before the Society of Biological
Chemists in New York during April 1927) effectively demolished the claim by Hill and Meyerhof
(for which they were awarded the 1922 Nobel prize for medicine and physiology) that glycogen
is the pivotal energy source for muscle contraction.
SubbaRow was awarded his PhD for his work on phosphocreatinine in June 1930 (after obtaining
the necessary undergraduate and post-graduate credits).
In the midst of undertaking Nobel class research, SubbaRow isolated a series of nucleotides
involved in the synthesis of RNA (ribonucleic acid). Fiske was loathe to submit this important
research for publication and this "work remained locked up in Harvard notebooks? ."
Thus the understanding and role of nucleotides in bioscience was delayed and had to be
rediscovered by others much later.
George Hitchings (Nobel Prize in Physiology and Medicine, 1988) and an erstwhile colleague
of SubbaRow said:
"Some of the nucleotides isolated by SubbaRow had to be rediscovered years later by other
workers because Fiske apparently out of jealously, did not let SubbaRow's contributions see
the light of the day"
The Hindu, 5 September, 2001
At Lederle Laboratories, Pearl River
SubbaRow's interest in vitamins was hampered by a lack of resources at Harvard; he still
had a lowly position in Fiske's laboratory. Without a formal faculty position SubbaRow could
not access funds and have assistants for his envisioned projects on vitamins. Increasingly
frustrated with his position at Harvard, he joined Lederle Laboratories during May 1940.
Lederle Laboratories were seeking to make inroads in the burgeoning vitamin and antibiotic
industry.
SubbaRow's appointment as Associate Director of Research provided a fresh impetus for his
research ambitions. He gathered around him a healthy collection of young graduates and
veteran scientists and technicians. He "orchestrated the brilliant new ideas of the young
scientists in their creative years and induced new creativity among veterans". The benefits
of this visionary leadership soon materialized. In 1941 gramicidin and erythromycin were the
first antibiotics he produced commercially. The discoverers of penicillin, during a visit to
Lederle Laboratory, acknowledged the penicillin produced by SubbaRow's laboratory was "somewhat
more potent" than that reported by anyone else.
Director of Research at Lederle Laboratories and the Golden Years
In October 1942 SubbaRow was appointed Director of Research at Lederle Laboratories. Over a
period of just 3 years SubbaRow and his team presented to the world a remarkable range of
drugs that continue to have an impact on medical therapy. In August 1945 the synthesis of
folic acid was announced. This was followed by the unveiling of the novel drug Hetrazan for
the treatment of filiariasis in October 1947. The anti-folic acids aminopterin and methotrexate
were revealed during April 1948, heralding a new line of anti-cancer therapy.
SubbaRow's search for a panacea, a cure for all fevers, ended with the presentation of aureomycin
to the New York Academy of Sciences on 21 July 1948. Derived from a golden yellow mould, aureomycin
was the original antibiotic in the tetracycline group; it was also the first broad spectrumantibiotic,
being effective against both gram positive and negative bacteria, rickettsiae, large viruses, some
spirochetes and pathogenic amoebae. Until then Fleming's penicillin was effective only against gram
positive bacteria, and Waks-man's streptomycin only against gram negative bacteria. Aureomycin's
impact on health care is plain to see, as should be humanity's debt to SubbaRow.
The Personality
Apart from his scientific brilliance, SubbaRow was tremendously modest and self-effacing. He
was generous in giving credit to members of his research team, particularly to those who stood
to gain a great deal thereby. When it came to claiming credit for important research discoveries,
he preferred to receive it as the collective effort of the team. He preferred the lit light of
the back row rather than to be in the spotlight. SubbaRow once said: "The victories of science
are rarely won single-handed. No one man should get the (entire) credit".
SubbaRow struggled doggedly to achieve seemingly impossible feats. His life and achievements
should inspire the youth of today and aspirant scientists to take up challenges and to rise
above mediocrity.
He achieved greatness by hard work, sacrifice, great imagination, self-confidence and an inner
compulsion to alleviate human suffering.
When he died peacefully in his sleep on 8 August 1948, 53 years old and at the height of his
research career, the medical world in America mourned his death. The Herald-Tribune called him
"one of the most eminent medical minds of the century". Although he spent almost 25 years in the
USA he remained an alien there, without the status of a green card holder; he died an Indian citizen.
Throughout his stay in the USA the values and spirituality of the Hindu scriptures were evident in
his personality. The inspiring words of Swami Vivekananda, ".....knowledge exists, man only
discovers it", wove a golden thread in his practice and dealings with his associates. SubbaRow
is one of the most highly cited scientists in the entire history of science. He was truly a "man
of all sciences". Immense scientific brilliance, along with tremendous modesty,self-effacement
and generosity to give credit to others who stood to gain, are some of the unique characteristics
of this great man who surely ranks among the all time greats of medical science.
Bibliography:
Narasimhan, Raji. "Yellapragada SubbaRow. A life in quest of panacea". Vigyan Prasar, New Delhi, 2003.
"The dilemma of a fame-hunter". Gupta, SPK. Current Science, 1995; 1:110-113.
http://www.ysubbarrow.com
"Dr Yellapragada SubbaRow. He transformed science". Bhargava, PM. Indian Academy of Clinical Science,
2001; 2(1 and 2); 96-100
To the Ramakrishna Centre of South Africa's Website
