For as long as I can remember, a quiet thought has drifted through my mind in the still hours between dusk and sleep: what if life itself is a simulation—an elaborate stage play in which we, vivid though we seem, may yet be characters animated by some higher...
The Soul of Sustainable Chemistry
The Soul of Sustainable Chemistry
There are evenings when conversation lingers like the aftertaste of cardamom tea—subtle yet insistent. Last night was one of them. Eminent chemist and my long-standing friend, Dr. S. Chandrasekhar, hosted some of his dear scientist friends, and I had the honour of being one among them. The day was doubly special, it being his father-in-law’s 96th birth anniversary and the release of a book written by his wife, Srivari Amresam Bharati.
At dinner, across the white cloth, an authentic Telugu thali, and the dim light of a Hyderabadi chandelier, I asked Professor Goverdhan Mehta, a world-renowned chemist and teacher of generations, what he would like to be remembered for.
Without hesitation, he replied, “For pioneering sustainable chemistry.”
The words hung in the air, not as self-praise, but as a declaration of what chemistry must become. For a moment, the room seemed to shrink, every voice folding into silence. Here was a man who had lived through the revolutions of twentieth-century science—who had mastered the elegance of organic synthesis, led institutions, and carried India’s scientific reputation abroad—yet, at the twilight of an extraordinary career, he placed his legacy, not in molecules crafted, but in a principle embodied—that chemistry, to endure, must be sustainable.
Born in Jodhpur in 1943 and raised in the dawn of independent India, Goverdhan Mehta was part of a generation that saw in science not merely discovery but emancipation. His journey carried him from Rajasthan to the University of Poona (now SPPU), and then to the United States, before returning home with a restless ambition: to put Indian chemistry on the world map.
And he did. His research in organic synthesis became legendary, particularly his mastery of natural product synthesis. He crafted elaborate molecular architectures that nature had perfected over millions of years—alkaloids, terpenoids and complex polycyclic structures.
One of his celebrated achievements was the synthesis of steroids and terpenoids with unusual ring systems. These were not just exercises in intellectual dexterity, but also blueprints for medicinal chemistry, offering scaffolds that could inspire the development of new drugs. His strategies in synthesising indole alkaloids—molecules that plants deploy for defence and humans now explore for therapy—set new benchmarks in creativity.
Yet what strikes one, meeting him now, is not the glitter of recognition but the steady flame of inquiry. His curiosity has not waned, only deepened, bending itself to a new question: What does it mean for chemistry to serve life, not just knowledge?
A chemist of the twentieth century, triumphant in technique, sought efficiency. Could reactions be faster, yields higher, and steps fewer? This was the grammar of progress, and Mehta mastered it as few did. However, the twenty-first century presents another grammar before us, one that asks not only how well but also at what cost. A reaction that is efficient yet toxic, a process that is streamlined yet wasteful, a molecule that is brilliant yet persistent in soil and sea—these are pyrrhic victories.
“A 21st-century chemist,” Prof. Mehta said, “must not be satisfied only if a reaction is efficient; he or she must also examine: Is it ethical, renewable and regenerative?”
This Trinity is the soul of sustainable chemistry, and perhaps of Prof. Mehta’s own philosophy. In sustainable chemistry, the defining characteristic is the life-cycle gaze. It is no longer enough to measure atoms and bonds in a flask. One must follow them outward, into mines where raw materials are extracted, factories where energy is consumed, households where products are used and oceans into which residues drift.
Prof. Mehta, though celebrated for elegant syntheses, is among those who remind chemists that elegance in the flask must also translate into responsibility in the field. He supported ideas of atom economy—maximising how much of the raw material ends up in the final product—as a criterion of excellence. He spoke of green solvents, of avoiding heavy metals, and of catalytic processes that required less energy.
In his later lectures, Prof. Mehta often urged students to think beyond molecules, encouraging them to see chemistry as embedded in climate change, energy transitions, sustainable agriculture and circular economies. His own research group began exploring methodologies that reduced chemical waste, integrated renewable feedstocks and aligned synthesis with sustainability goals. Chemistry becomes a musical piece that has a beginning, a middle and an end. Sustainable chemistry requires that each chapter be written with foresight—that no toxic legacy be left for future generations.
There is something deeply Indian in this vision. Rta, the concept of cosmic order, requires balance: what is taken must be returned. In villages, waste turns into compost; in rituals, fire sends offerings back into the air. Perhaps it is no accident that an Indian chemist should insist on sustainability. For what India taught the world through philosophy, she must now demonstrate through science.
Prof. Mehta’s own career is a testament to this bridging. From the sandstone streets of Jodhpur to laboratories across continents, he has lived at the intersection of tradition and modernity. He carries, one feels, the humility of a teacher and the boldness of a pioneer—qualities required for India’s scientific renaissance.
Why should this matter now, when the world reels with more visible crises like pandemics, wars, and inequities? Because chemistry is everywhere, silently shaping the conditions of life. Plastic in oceans, pesticides in soils, pharmaceuticals in rivers—all are chemical legacies. To change chemistry is to change destiny.
The climate crisis, too, is, at its heart, a chemical crisis. Fossil carbon, buried for aeons, is now combusted into the sky. Sustainable chemistry seeks alternatives: solar-driven reactions, biodegradable polymers, and biocatalysts inspired by enzymes. It seeks not only to reduce harm but to reimagine abundance.
As I recall the dinner, I find myself drifting into the stream of thought that folds inwards and outwards: how strange that bonds invisible bind us to futures we will not see; how fragile the margins of discovery, where genius and responsibility must meet; how urgent the demand that science be not only clever but kind. I think of Prof. Mehta, his face charming and serene, his voice soft and calm, his words deliberate, and wonder if this is what legacy means—not monuments nor medals, but the transmission of a question that refuses to die: How shall we live well with the Earth?
To young researchers, his message is clear. Learn your reactions, perfect your yields, but never stop asking the deeper questions. The laboratory is not sealed off from the world; every flask is connected to forests, rivers and skies. When you choose a solvent, you also choose a future. The call is not to renounce chemistry but to deepen it—to infuse it with ethics, renewal and regeneration. In doing so, chemistry becomes not the destroyer of worlds but their healer.
And so, from a single dinner table, an evening conversation stretches outward. Prof. Goverdhan Mehta will be remembered as a master chemist, no doubt. His synthetic pathways will be cited in journals, and his students will recall his rigour. But if he has his wish, he will be remembered above all for pioneering sustainable chemistry—for insisting that the craft of molecules be the craft of care. To be remembered thus is to place one’s name not in stone but in soil, where it nourishes unseen roots. And perhaps that is the truest immortality a scientist can hope for.
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