In recent years, Hyderabad, India, has indeed established itself as a burgeoning hub of innovation, particularly in the fields of technology, biotechnology, and entrepreneurship. I have been living here since 1982, when, barring defence laboratories in its southern outskirts and a few legacy institutions, it was a sleepy town, which people jokingly called a ‘glorified village’. First came the Pharmaceutical revolution in the 1980s, followed by the IT revolution in the 1990s. They both attracted investment and high-calibre people. And then, like magic, in the 2010s, an entirely new global standard, New City, sprang up in the western part of the city. I now live hereand can see the sun rising from behind the high-rise buildings dotting the entire horizon from my east-facing 14th-floor balcony.

Often referred to as ‘Cyberabad’, a poetic expression for new technology residing in a 500-year-old city, this area is a massive hub for IT and ITES (Information Technology Enabled Services), housing global tech giants such as Microsoft, Google, Amazon, and Facebook. There has been a surge in startups, supported by incubators, accelerators, and government initiatives like T-Hub, one of India’s largest startup incubators. Innovation in artificial intelligence (AI), machine learning (ML), and financial technology (fintech) has exploded in the city.

Genome Valley, a hub of biotech, pharmaceutical enterprises and research institutions in Hyderabad, is situated on the city’s northern side. All global corporations – Ferring Pharma, Chemo, DuPont, Ashland, United States Pharmacopoeia, Lonza, Sandoz, JAMP Pharma, etc., have significant operations here. The city played a crucial role in global vaccine production during the COVID-19 pandemic, with companies like Bharat Biotech (producer of Covaxin) and Biological E. Ltd leading the charge.

One of my blessings has been meeting with young people – very talented, fired up with ambition, and determined to succeed globally. Still believing in my faded aura, they come to share their dreams. I learn from these youngsters new ideas, and the wave of the future that is getting woven by the latest threads and patterns. One such bright star is Dr SudarshanReddy. Born in 1984, he is the Founder-CEO of OncosimisBiotech Private Limited.

Dr Sudarshan was born in the Kurnool district in a farmer’s family. His parents told him to study while they attended to the agriculture. This inspired him to aim for the best. Until 2017, he was a post-doctoral researcher at Harvard Medical School in the United States, where he worked on developing therapeutic solutions for severe neurological disorders and oncology. He obtained his PhD from Singapore in 2012. He returned and established Oncosimis. He fondly remembers his teachers at Harvard, Professors Fred Goldberg, Dan Finely, Gerald Greenhouse and Everett Anderson, who taught him the gross structure and function of the human body and allowed him to explore how things work inside. He also earned a certificate in healthcare innovation and commercialisation, first place at Harvard University’s Best Business Start-up Pitch competition, and a nomination for the AAAS/Science Program for Excellence in Science.

Dr Sudarshan radiates knowledge and entrepreneurial energy. Leading a talented team, he has created his own nest of innovation, and it’s no wonder Oncosimis Biotech has madesignificant progress. The company has received numerous accolades, including 30 patents, as well as grants and awards such as BIG, NBM, Bio-Asia Best Startup, X-PRIZE for COVID testing kit, Biocon Innovation Excellence (NBEC), Startup India Pharma Grand Challenge, and SyngeneEmerging Biopharma.

I learnt from Dr Sudarshan that a new age of systemic medicine has begun with the advent of RNA and peptide-based treatments, which represent a significant change in the medical field. It is redefining not only how we comprehend disease but also how we intervene to restore health. The RNA is a messenger molecule, and peptides are minimal proteins. The intersection of RNA and peptide science offers remarkable opportunities for precision medicine, unveiling novel avenues for the treatment and prevention of complex diseases that were once deemed untreatable.

Systemic medicine refers to an integrated approach to health and disease, recognising the body as a network of interconnected systems rather than isolated organs or pathways. Traditional medicine often targets specific symptoms or organs, but systemic medicine aims to address the underlying networks that sustain health or drive illness. At the heart of this paradigm shift are molecules such as RNA and peptides, which serve as informational and functional mediators within biological systems.

For outsiders like me, RNA, or ribonucleic acid, is anintermediary between DNA, our genetic blueprint, and proteins, the cell’s workhorses. However, its roles are far more diverse. Messenger RNA (mRNA) carries genetic instructions for protein synthesis, while non-coding RNAs orchestrate gene expression, regulate cellular stress responses, and even protect genomes from viral invasion. A prime example is the revolution in the worldwide reaction to the COVID-19 pandemic brought about by the creation of mRNA vaccines.

Yet, RNA’s therapeutic potential extends well beyond vaccines. Small interfering RNAs (siRNAs) and antisense oligonucleotides (ASOs) can silence disease-causing genes, offering hope for genetic disorders that have eluded traditional treatments. In addition, long non-coding RNAs (lncRNAs) and microRNAs (miRNAs) are being explored for their ability to fine-tune gene expression, providing opportunities for interventions in cancer, neurodegenerative diseases, and beyond.

Essential biological messengers – peptides – function as hormones, neurotransmitters, and signalling molecules; they are composed of short chains of amino acids. To mirror the actions of natural regulators with fewer off-target effects, peptides can be designed with excellent specificity, unlike small-molecule medicines. Insulin, which has saved the lives of millions of people since its discovery a century ago, is the prototypical peptide medicine. Now, the area is growing, and researchers are creating hundreds of peptide medications to treat a wide variety of illnesses. 

Perhaps in my lifetime, it will be discovered how narrowing of the heart’s arteries can be avoided by calming down cellar inflammation that first appears on the skin, then in the bowel, then affects blood pressure, then sugar metabolism, and, if nothing is done to correct it, atherosclerotic clots start depositing on the inner surface cells of the coronary arteries that nourish the heart muscles to keep it beating.  

It looks fantastic, but what I now know is that the root cause of any disease – be it cancer, heart, brain stroke, kidney failure, or whatever – is cellular inflammation. Cellular inflammation acts as the ‘original sin’ or underlying fault that triggers various health issues such as cardiovascular disease, cancer, and neurodegenerative conditions. Avoid it, and you have saved yourself from future disaster.

Know your thoughts as RNA, which can inflame your cells. Intrusive or harmful thoughts can activate emotional responses or stress, much like RNA can trigger immune reactions in cells. Addressing inflammation through lifestyle changes can be highly effective in reducing the risk of diseases. After all the running around, dance and drama, youshould not end up expending on your medical treatment and be confined at home in your old age rather than happily idling or travelling to good places.

The true Original Sin — the first and most damaging mistake — is allowing negative thoughts to take root. Why let them inflame your mind, cells and body, and multiply the damage? Mind your thoughts — negative thoughts are even more harmful than bad food. Feed your mind with hope and positivity, and your body will thank you with years of joyful living. Mind your thoughts; negative thoughts are even more harmful than bad food.

I graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering and pursued a master’s in design at GB Pant University. I then spent 15 years at DRDO working on missile hardware. Afterwards, I explored biomedical materials, with a focus on civilian spinoffs. Nearly half of my career has involved interdisciplinary work. I primarily worked with doctors and agricultural scientists, and attended conferences on environmental issues. What I realised is that anyone talking about change is truly an engineer.

Engineering is not just a discipline or profession but a blend of creativity and logic, serving as the fundamental force behind humanity’s relentless pursuit of progress. It involves transforming abstract dreams into tangible realities, bridging the gap between what is and what could be. At its core, engineering is the art of progress—a catalyst that propels civilisation forward, crafting the tools, systems, and structures upon which societies thrive.

Engineering is a mindset rooted in problem-solving and innovation. Engineers harness the laws of nature, transforming raw materials and scientific knowledge into practical solutions. This ability to conceive, design, and build is what sets engineering apart as the foundation of progress. Unlike pure science, which seeks to understand, engineering aims to create. It brings theory into practice, giving rise to inventions and infrastructures that redefine what humanity can achieve.

Throughout history, every leap of progress has been underpinned by feats of engineering. Giant Hindu temples, the Egyptian pyramids, the aqueducts of Rome, and the Great Wall of China not only reflect the ambitions of their civilisations but also showcase the ingenuity of the engineers who made them possible. The industrial revolution marked an era in which mechanical engineering transformed societies, introducing the steam engine, mechanized looms, and mass production techniques that fuelled unprecedented economic and social changes.

In the modern era, civil, electrical, chemical, and software engineers have been at the heart of urbanisation, electrification, transportation, and digital revolutions. Every invention, from electricity and the telephone to the microchip and the internet, bears the hallmark of engineering expertise. These advancements have not only increased productivity but also elevated the quality of life, extending life expectancy, reducing poverty, and connecting people across continents.

The role of engineering goes beyond physical creations; it shapes the very fabric of society. Infrastructure—roads, bridges, water supply systems, power grids, and telecommunications—depends on the meticulous work of engineers. These networks form the circulatory system of modern civilisation, enabling trade, communication, education, and healthcare. As I brought out in ‘Decoding the Pandemic’, my book with renowned biologist Prof. Seyed E. Hasnain, written in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, the reliability and efficiency of these systems shape the resilience of communities in the face of adversity, such as natural disasters or pandemics.

Moreover, engineering fosters social equity and opportunity. By developing affordable housing, clean water technologies, and sustainable transportation, engineers address pressing societal challenges and work towards reducing disparities. The thoughtful application of engineering principles not only solves immediate problems but also lays the foundation for future generations to thrive. Many great designs are inspired by nature and biology. For example, computers have been revolutionized by the integration of neural networks.

While engineering is rooted in mathematics and science, it is also a profoundly creative pursuit. Like artists, engineers visualise possibilities unseen by others and devise elegant solutions to complex problems. The design of a soaring bridge, a sleek smartphone, or an efficient energy grid requires as much imagination as technical know-how.

This creativity is not limited to grand projects. Everyday items—medical devices, appliances, and vehicles—are products of iterative engineering, where function meets form in innovative ways. The iterative cycle of prototyping, testing, and refining embodies the creative spirit of engineering, where failure is merely a stepping stone to progress.

In the contemporary world, the stakes of engineering are higher than ever. Climate change, resource depletion, and population growth challenge engineers to innovate responsibly. The basic art of engineering now demands a holistic view—balancing technological advancement with environmental stewardship and ethical considerations.

Engineers are at the forefront of developing renewable energy solutions, green architecture, and circular economies. They design systems that conserve resources, reduce waste, and mitigate environmental impact. Sustainable engineering is not a separate discipline, but an evolution of the art itself, integrating progress with the planet’s well-being.

The digital age is perhaps the clearest testament to the role of engineering in progress. Computer engineering, software development, and information technology have revolutionised every aspect of life—from how we learn and collaborate with others, whether for work or fun, transactions or entertainment. The interconnectedness brought about by the Internet and mobile technology amplifies knowledge, democratises access, and accelerates innovation.

Artificial intelligence, robotics, and biotechnology are at the cutting edge of the next wave of progress. These fields, built upon foundational engineering concepts, promise to address challenges in healthcare, transportation, and energy with solutions once deemed science fiction. As boundaries between disciplines blur, the art of engineering is evolving, embracing complexity and interdisciplinarity.

To sustain progress, cultivating engineering talent is imperative. Engineering education not only imparts technical skills but also fosters a mindset of curiosity, resilience, and adaptability. Future engineers must be equipped to tackle problems that are increasingly global in scope and multifaceted in nature.

Engineering has never been an elite enterprise. People from diverse genders, cultures, and backgrounds have contributed, enriching the field with a range of varied perspectives. Progress has come more from the bottom up than from the top down. Inclusive engineering teams are better equipped to anticipate needs, mitigate bias, and deliver solutions that benefit broader communities. As the art of progress, engineering flourishes when it reflects the diversity and dynamism of humanity itself. Dr. Verghese Kurien, a mechanical engineer, revolutionised the dairy industry in India. Another mechanical engineer, Anil Kakodkar, excelled in the Nuclear Energy field. Great global corporations like IBM, Microsoft, and Google are headed and run by Indian engineers. Indian engineers have a strong presence at NASA, making significant contributions across various domains.

In every era and on every continent, engineering has been the driving force behind transformation. Its art lies not only in the mastery of materials and mathematics but also in its vision for a better tomorrow. Progress is not inevitable; it is engineered, shaped by those who dare to imagine and design a new reality. My friend Krishna Yedula , who works there as the Vice President and Pan-India Head–Facilities and Sustainability, clicked this picture in the lobby of the Virtusa Centre at Hyderabad.

As we confront the challenges and possibilities of the future, it is clear that the fundamental art of progress will remain rooted in engineering. It is through the ingenuity, creativity, and ethical resolve of engineers that humanity will continue to advance, building a world that is more resilient, equitable, and inspiring for generations to come. While it is true that progress has brought with it a bundle of problems, it is only through engineering that planet Earth can become more liveable.

In the 21^st century, engineering combines creativity, innovation, and technical skills to develop new solutions, enhance existing technologies, and drive societal progress. Engineering isn’t just a technical discipline—it’s also a form of art, requiring imagination and ingenuity to solve complex problems and drive progress. Here’s to the engineers—artists of progress, who turn ‘impossible’ into ‘I’m possible’, one blueprint at a time.

On May 1, 2019, I began a journey that I could not have anticipated would change the way I see myself as a writer. It was not born of ambition or grand design but of inspiration. Gopi Reddy and his wife, Tanya, nudged me toward blogging as a form of expression. Tanya went a step further and built a website for me—a modest but enduring home where words could settle, breathe, and wait for readers.

I promised myself consistency. Every fortnight, without fail, I would publish a narrative of about a thousand words. Five years later, this rhythm has carried me here—to the writing of my 150th article. What began as a pastime has quietly evolved into a discipline, and what was once a hobby has now grown into a substantial body of work that surprises even me. Then AI entered the story. 

Recently, my publisher friend, Ashutosh Ramgir, offered me a gift that felt almost uncanny. He fed my entire collection of blogs into an AI engine, asking it to read, understand, and distil the essence of my writing. The outcome came in three waves, each more intriguing than the last.

The first was purely technical but astonishing in its speed. In a matter of seconds, the AI had extracted passages from across my blogs, organised them into themes, and produced a book—Spectrum—structured into eight chapters. What would normally take weeks or months of careful curation was accomplished in the blink of an eye, and yet the result was not a mechanical jumble. It was coherent, almost artful, a seamless narrative built from my scattered reflections. 

The second discovery was more personal. Based on the themes, influences, and references in my writing, AI concluded that I was, at heart, a rational spiritualist. Not a mystic lost in blind faith, nor a sceptic dismissing the unseen, but someone who seeks spiritual truth through reason, evidence, and lived experience.

The third revelation was most striking: AI placed my writing in the literary lineage of Virginia Woolf. Until that moment, I had read Woolf only in fragments, admired her reputation, and taken note of her influence on modern literature. But to hear that my writing resonated with her style—that was something different. It prompted me to look more closely at what makes her voice so enduring. 

Virginia Woolf (1882–1941) pioneered what is now known as the stream of consciousness technique: a narrative that mimics the continuous, sometimes disjointed motion of the mind itself. Past and present intermingle. Memories flash into the present moment. Sensations blur with reflections. The plot becomes secondary to perception. For Woolf, the drama of fiction was not what happened in the external world but what unfolded within—the fragile, fleeting, luminous texture of thought.

What Woolf achieved was a new way of seeing. She showed that the significance of a moment does not lie in its scale—whether it is a war or a tea party—but in its effect on consciousness.

When I looked back at my own blogs, I began to see similar impulses. I had often written not of grand events but of the texture of thought. For instance: 

        “Sometimes, now, I find myself slipping into bed absurdly early, before the city has quite stilled. And then, as if in compensation, the mornings open their hand to me sooner than I  expect, and I step out onto the balcony that faces East.” 

The moment is simple, almost trivial: a person rising early, waiting for the sun. Yet in its unfolding lies a meditation on existence itself. 

Another passage lingers on the ordinariness of dawn:

        “The sky pales, blushes, reddens; I am lifted, buoyed, as though some invisible cord has cut me free from the heaviness of fears, the small insistent burdens of the world.”

Woolf, too, elevated such moments—finding in them the very “stuff of fiction.” Elsewhere, my reflections carried similar resonance:

         “Run not for yourself alone but for the farmers whose hands still till the soil, for the ecosystems that shelter unseen futures, and for the billions who depend on agriculture not just for food but for dignity, security, and life itself.” 

These are not descriptions of events; they are immersions into consciousness, both individual and collective. 

So far, I have published thirty-five books, with five more in progress and due for release in 2025. People sometimes ask me how I manage such output, but the truth is humbler and stranger: I do not feel as though I write these books. They seem to write themselves.

          “Ideas circle in the air like invisible seeds, waiting for a mind in which to germinate. When one finds me, it takes hold, grows roots, and eventually insists on being written.”

The metaphor of possession—of being written by thought rather than writing it—echoes the way Woolf saw consciousness itself: as fluid, transient, and greater than the individual.

There is a paradox worth pausing over here. On the one hand, AI is often seen as mechanical, inhuman, and incapable of true understanding. On the other hand, in this experience, it acted almost as a critic, a companion, even a mirror. It read with a patience no human could muster, absorbed every nuance, and then returned a portrait of me I had never drawn for myself. Sometimes, this surfaced in fragments that felt almost Woolfian:

          “Stories poured out, fragile and immense at once: gods battling across the skies, men rising and falling in triumph or disgrace, dreams of wings, of voices that leapt from body to body, untethered.”

Or in long reflections on science, which nonetheless flow like a current of consciousness:

         “In the field of computer vision… There is no space where PJN, as he is lovingly called, and his students, all of whom grew up as accomplished scientists and engineers holding great positions in academia and industry, are not present. 

Even when I write of agriculture, it emerges not as mere policy but as lived philosophy:

           “Agriculture is not merely the art of growing food—it is the art of growing civilisation. To dishonour it is to imperil humanity; to nurture it is to secure the future.”

And always, at the centre, the moral heartbeat:

       “Protecting smallholders and marginalised communities is the most powerful foundation for strengthening a nation, for they are the roots that sustain sustainable growth, resilience, and shared prosperity for all.” 

To be told that I write in Woolf’s style was more than a compliment; it was an invitation. An invitation to read her more deeply, to learn consciously what I had perhaps been doing unconsciously, and to honour the lineage of writers who have made literature a vessel for the human mind.

As I stand at the milestone of my 150th blog, I find myself grateful for this odd collaboration between past and present, between the ghost of Virginia Woolf and the circuitry of artificial intelligence. Together, they have shown me who I am as a writer—not an isolated creator but part of a continuum, where ideas drift, take hold, and speak through us.

And so, I will continue to write. Every fortnight, another thousand words will find their place. Whether read by people or machines, whether seen as rational spiritualism or Woolf-like introspection, the act itself matters. As I once wrote, in a line that feels like a prophecy.  

         “Every knife comes with a handle, and only fools get injured by holding the blade and not the butt. The AI will locate the young person who learns to use it wisely and send him work, and with that wealth, also will come as a shadow that follows the body.”

Writing, in the end, is not about ownership but about surrender—about letting the ghosts of thought speak through us.

I have been blessed with the friendship of Manher Sameer. We met at GB Pant University in 1974, where I was pursuing my graduation in Mechanical Engineering, and where Sameer joined the Mechanical Engineering program after completing his graduation in Sciences from the adjacent College of Basic Sciences and Humanities. So technically, he was a year junior to me, but senior to me in all other respects – intelligence, skills and, above all, compassion.

I stayed back to teach after my graduation and completed my master’s in the process. Meanwhile, Sameer set up an ice factory in Moradabad as part of his family business and later established his enterprise in corrugated boards, an innovation at the time. Together, we named the new company ‘Paperphants’. It flourished and expanded over time. After I moved to Hyderabad in 1982, we became engrossed in our respective careers and families and lost in our busy schedules.

Sameer is gifted with excellent body-mind coordination, which usually manifests in sports. He is ambidextrous, playing with his left hand and writing with his right hand. He played cricket, badminton and table tennis at the University level. I loved watching him play table tennis – the way he would produce topspin, making the ball drop near the opposite side of the net and spin back, leaving his opponent no chance of reaching it. But more than that, I was intrigued by his skill in Origami.

Origami, derived from the Japanese words ‘oru’ (to fold) and ‘kami’ (paper), has evolved over centuries into both a hobby and an intricate art form. While traditional origami focuses on creating animals, flowers and geometric patterns, modern origami incorporates mathematical principles and engineering designs, pushing its boundaries beyond mere aesthetics.

Origami relies on a series of folds and unfolds, governed by simple rules that shape the paper into complex three-dimensional structures. The key lies in the crease patterns – mathematical blueprints that guide the transformation of a flat, usually square sheet of paper into an elegant figure. There is never a cut made and regardless of the complex shape you create, the paper can always be unfolded back to its original form. These folds require precision and adherence to geometric principles, often utilising angles, symmetry and proportion and demanding a very high degree of patience. There was nothing in the origami book that Sameer could not make.

In 2008, I met Dr. Arshad Quadri, MD, an Indian-origin cardiothoracic surgeon working in West Hartford, Connecticut, in the United States. He was married to the sister of my friend, radiologist Dr. Naiyer Imam, and they hosted me at their homes for a few days. I cherished this wonderful time with truly good people. Dr. Quadri took us to his lab and demonstrated his trials of folding a heart valve from bovine tissue using the origami technique.

The issue in paediatric cardiac care is that the valve needs to change as the child grows, which inspired him to come up with a prosthetic that could grow with the child. His origami-inspired heart valve prosthetic, made from live tissue, would address these challenges by expanding from paediatric to adult sizes while maintaining structural integrity and function. I had goosebumps seeing his work. I invited him to India for a collaboration, but he was already so deeply immersed in the US system that it was too late to turn back. The valve was never made.

Then, when my friend, Dr Girish Sahni (1956 – 2024), hosted me at his laboratory, the Institute of Microbial Technology (IMTECH) in Chandigarh, we stood in front of a giant haemoglobin mural at the G.N. Ramachandran Protein Centre. Trying his best to explain medical science to an engineer, Dr Sahni told me that all proteins are like long ribbons, and how they fold gives rise to different molecules. He also described the remarkable work of physicist Dr Ramachandran (1922 – 2001), who paved the way for the field of structural biology with his discovery of the dynamics of protein folding.

Correctly folded proteins perform a myriad of functions, such as catalysing enzymatic reactions, enabling cell signalling and providing structural support. For example, the precise folding of haemoglobin allows it to transport oxygen throughout the body, while the structure of collagen provides strength and elasticity to tissues. Misfolding can lead to various diseases, making protein folding one of the most critical processes in life sciences. Dr. Sahni praised G.N. Ramchandran’s work, stating that had he lived in the West, he would have been awarded a Nobel prize.

Origami and protein folding, though seemingly unrelated, share profound commonalities in their reliance on structure, precision and transformative processes. Origami, the ancient Japanese art of paper folding, embodies beauty through meticulous craftsmanship. In contrast, protein folding, a critical aspect of molecular biology, governs the functionality of life itself through the precise arrangement of amino acids.

Origami has transcended its artistic roots and found applications in science, technology and medicine. Engineers use origami-inspired designs to develop compact and deployable structures such as solar panels for spacecraft. In medicine, researchers have drawn inspiration from origami to create stents and other medical devices that can unfold in the body to minimise surgical invasiveness.

Computational models inspired by origami are helping scientists predict protein folding pathways. These tools use algorithms to simulate the folding process, enhancing our ability to design drugs and understand diseases. Origami-based designs are being integrated into nanotechnology and synthetic biology. Scientists are exploring ways to fold DNA and proteins into programmable structures, paving the way for breakthroughs in drug delivery, tissue engineering and the development of molecular machines.

Sameer, Dr Quadri, Dr Sahni… an engineer, a cardiac surgeon, a biologist… in hindsight, these people look like co-passengers in the journey of my life. Each participated in expanding my consciousness. Transcending mere acquaintance and delving into the realm of shared experiences, mutual respect, and emotional connection gives life its true meaning. A frog in the well may be a cruel metaphor, but if one has no friends beyond their family members and colleagues, they have not lived any better.

As life unfolds, revealing its complexities and joys, the definition of a friend evolves, shaped by both the richness of human interaction and the trials that test the strength of such bonds. A friend is not merely someone with whom we share time or interests; they are a mirror reflecting our aspirations, a confidant in our vulnerabilities and often a beacon guiding us through the labyrinth of existence.

Friendship is a living, breathing entity – one that adapts, evolves and grows as life unfolds. It is defined not by grand gestures but by the quiet moments of understanding, the shared experiences and the steadfast presence of someone who truly cares. As we journey through life, we come to realise that friends are the architects of our joy, companions in our sorrow and co-authors of our most cherished memories.

A friend, ultimately, reflects love–not platonic but functional, not transactional but unconditional; not fleeting but enduring. Thank you, Sameer, for being there for me and ensuring that I did not falter in my formative steps and wither away without blossoming. It was during my university days that I underwent a transformation, which allowed me to develop an open-minded attitude and a creative zeal. The wings I flew with to reach Dr Kalam were grown there – no wonder he could fold my career like a beautiful origami or a wholesome protein. 

Leaving DRDO in 1997 was a leap of faith for me. I had spent 15 years working with missiles, developing India’s first titanium air bottle and facilitating the industry interface for the indigenous production of astronautical-grade aluminium alloys, as well as AKASH missile airframes. By creating a special stainless steel to make an indigenous coronary (Kalam-Raju) stent, I opted to work on the broader technology ecosystem across organisations.

Dr Kalam was there for me as both my flag and my flagpole. People listened to what I said and helped in the best way they could. Working with Dr. Kalam, I met some of the best minds in scientific laboratories, universities and industries, and developed a great interdisciplinary network across organisations, breathing innovation into societal missions. One such contact was Dr S. Sridhar, whom I met at the CSIR-Indian Institute of Chemical Technology (IICT) during the development of a machine for creating water from atmospheric air in 2018 by Maithri Aquatech, a company founded by my friend M. Ramakrishna.

Hailing from a Tamil lineage in southern India, Sridhar’s father served in the Indian Army and settled in Hyderabad, where Sridhar was born and brought up. He graduated in Chemical Engineering and went on to specialise in molecular separation. Any young scientist faces a fork in life – one road leads to application, while the other leads to specialisation. On one path, you spread out over several areas; in another, you dig deep into one field. Dr Sridhar is unique in that, while he has delved deep into his chosen subject, he has kept the application of his work active by training 500 engineering and science graduates.

Dr Sridhar joined IICT as a Research Assistant in 1995, was promoted to Scientist in 1998, and has been working there ever since. His career exemplifies the progress of membrane technology in molecular separation. Over the years, Sridharhas developed pilot plants based on technologies that were patented as they evolved – electrodialysis, nanofiltration, gas permeation, pervaporation, forward osmosis, membrane distillation and reverse osmosis, with capacities ranging from 500 to 5000 litres per hour for solvent recovery, effluent treatment and gas purification, serving the pharmaceutical, steel, textile, aroma and petrochemical industries. He has developed several indigenous membranes for fuel cellapplications.

Dr Sridhar has to his credit more than 70 water purification plants, ensuring safe drinking water for people living in remote areas, affected by waterborne diseases such as fluorosis, gastroenteritis, jaundice and typhoid, across ten states in India. Every purification method is unique and must be tailored to efficiently and reliably filter out the root cause, while also being affordable. Local people must be able to maintain these plants themselves. This is the challenge where most others failed, but Dr Sridhar proved otherwise. Other significant societal contributions with far-reaching impacts include an import-substitute device for producing ultrapure medical-grade water and an affordable, washable, multi-layered facemask to counter COVID-19, which led to the creation of several start-ups.  

 Molecular separation technology stands as a cornerstone in the domains of chemistry, biochemistry and materials science. It involves isolating specific molecules from complex mixtures based on their physical and chemical properties, which is critical for applications spanning pharmaceuticals, environmental science, petrochemicals and biotechnology. In India, Prof Sirshendu De at IIT Kharagpur was the pioneer in this field.

The roots of molecular separation can be traced back to Russia with the development of chromatography. The introduction of solid-phase columns and more efficient detection methods allowed for enhanced resolution and sensitivity in analysing complex mixtures. Innovations in polymer science led to membranes with remarkable selectivity, durability and scalability, enabling their application in water purification and medical devices. Computational models and advanced materials transformed distillation setups, making them more energy-efficient and precise.

 The maturation of molecular separation technology has ushered in cutting-edge methodologies that leverage computational power and nanotechnology. Today, researchers rely on hybrid approaches that combine multiple separation techniques to achieve unprecedented levels of efficiency.

Nanotechnology plays a pivotal role in refining molecular separation. Nanoporous membranes, for instance, exhibit exceptional selectivity, enabling the separation of molecules based on their size, shape and chemical affinity. These membranes are increasingly utilised in desalination, gas separation and selective molecular capture applications.

With the discovery of natural gas, the Indian petroleum industry faced new challenges. Natural gas is a mixture of different molecules that must be purified from CO2 and H2S to enrich methane. The petrochemical industry heavily relies on C2 and C3–olefins as feedstock to produce a vast array of chemical intermediates and final products. Separation of propylene from propane is essential for a wide range of chemical products, including plastics and solvents. Separation of CO2 from power plant off-gases or its direct air capture for agricultural purposes could reduce the increasingly alarming effects of global warming. Dr. Sridhar’s mission was to improve membrane permeability and selectivity, leading to higher yields and reduced energy consumption, which ultimately earned him the title of ‘Molecular Separation Man of India’, as evidenced by the 75 prestigious awards he has received. His work, his team, and above all, his zeal will not only benefit the Indian petroleum industry but also enhance its global role in the years to come.

The future of molecular separation technology is closely tied to interdisciplinary collaboration and technological convergence. Emerging fields such as quantum computing and synthetic biology are likely to redefine the boundaries of molecular separation. Quantum algorithms can simulate molecular interactions with unparalleled precision, paving the way for designing separation systems tailored to specific chemical profiles. Custom-designed biological molecules, such as engineered enzymes, can act as highly selective agents in molecular separation processes, opening new horizons in medicine and materials science.

The maturation of molecular separation technology reflects humanity’s unwavering quest to manipulate matter at its most fundamental level. From early chromatography to cutting-edge nanotechnologies, this field continues to evolve, addressing global challenges and enabling scientific breakthroughs. As researchers and industries forge ahead, the transformative potential of molecular separation will undoubtedly shape the future of science, technology and sustainability.

 It was natural for me to understand the role of Dr. Sridhar’swork in biomedical engineering. I recall meeting a Russian cardiologist in 1999 who used plasmapheresis to separate cholesterol from blood, a process similar to dialysis. A few sessions of plasmapheresis per year can help alleviate the side effects of statins. Russians also remove blood ammonia by this process to help the liver recover. These are all proven methods and established technologies, but their wider application is fraught with commercial forces and the formidable medical-pharmaceutical industry.

As a scientist, Dr Sridhar feels that molecular separation technologies are integral to drug development and diagnostics. Affinity chromatography, for example, is used in the purification of monoclonal antibodies and other biologics. Moreover, microfluidics-based separation systems are gaining traction for their capacity to isolate single cells or molecules in diagnostics and genomics research.

May the tribe of people like Dr. Sridhar increase, and may the culture of working across boundaries – spanning science, engineering, computer science, medicine, pharmaceuticals and more – remain open to the exchange of new ideas. Molecular separation technology stands at the frontier of scientific innovation, offering unparalleled opportunities to revolutionise industries ranging from healthcare and agriculture to energy and manufacturing. This cutting-edge methodology enables the precise isolation, purification, and manipulation of molecules, driving economic growth while addressing critical environmental and societal challenges.  

Molecular separation technology represents a transformative force in the global economy, offering solutions that enhance efficiency, sustainability, and profitability across industries.The fear that AI will take away jobs is real. However, new jobs will also be created, and people will be employed in making things more efficient and affordable. That it is happening in India augurs well.

Darning, known as Rafookari in Hindi, is an umbrella term for a mending technique used to repair holes or worn areas in fabric or knitted materials by weaving a new piece of cloth or thread into the existing material. Often done by hand, this practice was prevalent in the past, and as a child, I recall seeing it used to extend the life of clothing and other items. In modern times, the need for it has reduced drastically. Clothes have become commodities, and the ‘use and throw’ trend is prevalent.

By spiritual darning, I mean addressing our personality defects through self-awareness. German-American psychiatrist Friedrich Salomon ‘Fritz’ Perls (1893-1970), the originator of Gestalt Therapy, and A. H. Almass (b. 1944), who promoted the Diamond Approach, discussed personality holes.

Personality is like clothing that we wear to function in society. Families, communities, professions and talents become part of our presentation and interactions. So, any hole in the personality reveals one’s nakedness—unless it is mended.

These ‘holes’ can manifest as unresolved conflicts, unmet needs, or incomplete development of certain aspects of the personality, leading to feelings of emptiness, dissatisfaction, or psychological distress. Some people are shy and unable to form connections. Some people hide their talents. Some avoid taking responsibility. Irritability, anxiety, lack of empathy, poor impulse control, low self-esteem, difficulty in decision-making, lack of resilience, procrastination, bad habits and addictions represent various holes of different sizes and shapes.

An unborn baby depends entirely on the mother for every aspect of its existence. A foetus gets all it needs—material for physical growth, oxygen, warmth, etc.—from the mother. After birth, the child must be able to breathe independently. The mother begins to wean the child after a few months, and as time passes, the child learns to crawl, walk, bite and chew, and becomes self-supportive, developing its own movements and awareness.

Next come choices. The child starts becoming demanding. Depending on what is available and what is not, and how its demands are met, each child develops their unique strategy and style to achieve their goals. It sorts out what works and writes a life script that guarantees its survival. The way we behave in later life is decided in our childhood.

But life is a two-way road. Demands are made upon the child, too: sit down, eat, speak, sleep, don’t cry, and so on. Some of these demands may be unreasonable, but the child must manage, nonetheless. Some of its potential is then alienated, repressed and projected in this process, manifesting as phoney behaviour—a fake smile, pretentious servitude, etc.—that can lead to cheating and deceit.

Ultimately, this divide between our biological and social existence results in ‘holes’—lacking the ‘eyes’ to see, a ‘heart’ to feel, a ‘spine’ to take a stand, and so on. Next comes compensation for what is lacking. If a person has a ‘hole’ for eyes, they project their gaze onto the environment and live in a state of self-consciousness, permanently haunted by the feeling that they are being watched, judged, or accused.

One can know a person by what is being exaggerated. If someone constantly brags about their wealth, cars, or luxury items, it suggests they may be of a low social status. Exaggerating accomplishments can be a way to cover up the fear of being overlooked. Embellishing personal stories may indicate a desire to appear more interesting or adventurous than one feels. Overstating difficulties could signal a need for empathy, attention, or be an excuse for not meeting expectations. Exaggerating one’s looks, strength, or fitness could indicate desperation to impress others.

The name ‘Diamond’, as used by A. H. Almass, symbolises clarity, purity and the eternal nature of the human soul—diamonds are forever. The soul expresses itself through love, compassion, goodwill, peace, strength, joy and clarity. Almaas views personality holes as leaks in one’s life-force, and his approach aims to help individuals become more self-aware.

The worst and most common hole is not having ‘ears’. Such individuals continue to speak and expect the world to listen to them. They close their ears to what others have to say and can only tell others what they need. Problems arise frequently when two such individuals are placed in a situation. Next is the hole of not seeing. Obvious facts are ignored by such people. They are bound to mess things up, and, naturally, they are rarely given bigger responsibilities and the rewards that come with them.

The human personality is like a dress covering the soul. A new dress will come only in the next life. Darning is inevitable, and you must do that yourself.

A third part of our lives is spent in sleep. Every night, everyone sleeps. Even those who work the night shift must sleep for a certain number of hours during the day. The purpose of sleep is twofold. One is physical rest and the other is mental housekeeping. Dreams are an integral part of the sleep cycle. Dreams reveal our holes—our blank spaces, areas of our life and aspects of our personality that we have disowned or avoided in waking life. All the elements of a dream are fragments of our personality—like chipped pieces from a broken artefact.

According to Almass’s method, acknowledging ignorance is the starting point of any inquiry. Inquiry can commence the moment you become aware of your lack of knowledge. Assuming you already know something makes any investigation impossible. Take nothing for granted and assume no facts. You are here in this world to know. 

Our feelings of discomfort—aches, high blood pressure, non-cooperation by insulin in the blood, shortness of breath, bloated intestines, and so on—are all cries of ignorance. Feel these discomforts and address their root causes, rather than relying on pills and balms. We must also understand our emotions and behaviours—why am I angry, fearful, anxious, frustrated, elated, timid, or outspoken? We must explore this more thoroughly.

Your awareness is the price of direct knowledge. Like a burning flame, keep looking for answers to whatever is happening to you, and the path will appear before you, even if the future is unknown, like a deep and dark cave. The simple answer to the fundamental existential question of ‘Why am I here?’ is ‘I am here to know what I don’t know.’ 

So, whether by capturing through our dreams the emotions we avoid, or by understanding what lies beneath our emotions in our waking state, we must reclaim our awareness, which can serve as a means of healing and mending. Much like darning a piece of fabric to restore it, spiritual darning addresses wounds, gaps, or wear caused by life’s challenges, doubts, or disconnection from one’s inner self or higher purpose. A continuous process of repair and renewal allows us to live more consciously and move forward with greater clarity and resilience.