The fact that IISc has produced several scientists over the past century is well documented. The less heralded though is that the Institute has provided a quiet backdrop for several people to find themselves and their significant others amidst the daily toil. These are some of their stories …
Fighting for love
In 1990, the Department of Mechanical Engineering purchased computers to set up a lab. The Chairman summoned MR Ravi to help set up the laboratory after hearing about his proficiency with computers. Soon, a committee was formed, driven by students, to come up with protocols for optimal use of the systems. Ravi was a major part of that committee, as was Sangeeta Kohli, the only female PhD student in the department at the time.
“I was in IISc from 1984 as a Master’s student and then continued for PhD, and Sangeeta joined as a PhD scholar in 1988. We had seen each other but met and started to have closer conversations only in January of 1991. We shared our issues and started relating to each other, and it became more than a friendship,” admits Ravi, smiling through the computer screen sitting alongside Sangeeta, three decades later.
Within a year of being together, Ravi left to pursue post-doctoral studies in Europe with memories of shared time at the labs working on their projects, at the junkyard scouring for one thingamabob or the other for Sangeeta’s project, learning to develop photography films and printing pictures in the dark room, and walks along Gulmohar Marg. “We had only had 7-8 months together. It was an intense time with work and everything,” recalls Ravi.
‘We shared our issues and started relating to each other, and it became more than a friendship’
They met again only in 1993 when Sangeeta graduated, their relationship progressing through correspondence, transitioning from letters to emails as the years went by. Upon leaving IISc, Sangeeta joined IIT Kanpur as a full-time employee, while Ravi joined as a visiting faculty in IIT Bombay. The next few years were spent navigating a career path to find their way back to each other. On a personal level too, there was much to conquer.
“We didn’t know, when at IISc, if we were going to get married,” admits Ravi. “There were always issues … my family, being an orthodox Tamil Nadu family, were not in agreement and I didn’t want to go ahead until I convinced them. Sangeeta’s mother was okay, and her father had passed away. We even discussed giving it up.” Finally, Ravi got the nod from his family, reluctant as it might have been. “Eventually, we decided to go ahead sometime in 1995 and finally got married in 1996.”
Within six months of their marriage, though, everything smoothened out as Ravi’s family fell in love with Sangeeta. Years later, Ravi’s father admitted his folly and apologised for his reluctance towards his daughter-in-law too.
Married but living separately for over a year and a half, with Ravi now in IIT Delhi, Sangeeta decided to quit her job and join her husband. It was a tough call to give up a coveted position. Their quest to find jobs was made more complicated as they had similar specialisations. Sangeeta spent the next two-and-a-half years working part-time at an NGO and raising their firstborn before joining IIT Delhi in 1999. It was a gamble by Sangeeta, but one she felt she had to make. She even uses her life as a message for future generations.
“We were clear that we didn’t want to stay apart for too long,” she explains. “It is important to make short-term sacrifices. I made a hard decision to resign from a good position and I have never regretted it. I know friends who retired from Kanpur but always stayed apart [from their significant other]. Somehow, I am grateful that I got the inspiration to prioritise my family. For our son, it was important that we both were in the same place. Such things are more difficult these days because we are attached to our careers. Let us not hold on to careers at the cost of our family. In the long run, it is not satisfying.”
Watching their smiling faces, it is hard to disagree.
A lifetime of happiness
It was the early 1980s when a young Nagarathna N walked into the Department of Electrical Communication Engineering (ECE) as part of a project administrative team and met SV Gopalaiah, a young faculty member in the department. Gopal had little to do with the project that Nagarathna was working on but the two kept crossing paths. The most frequent facilitator was the telephone, steadfastly rooted to the office rooms in anathema of the ubiquitous power it would soon become.
Nagarathna was the liaison between the phone calls and Gopal, frequently seeking out the latter. Oftentimes, Gopal would rush to speak to the caller, and when he was not around, Nagarathna would take the messages from Gopal’s friends and family. It was a strange intimacy, Nagarathna getting a glimpse into the life of Gopal through the calls and messages. The two became friends and soon veered onto a path that resulted in a 42 year-long marriage and two children.
On the face of it, their story is just another meet-cute that leads to a happy ending. It is a yarn that has been spun repeatedly. But it is easy to forget how different the society was in the 1980s. The Institute was agnostic towards their relationship and their friends stood behind them. But some were unimpressed.
It was a strange intimacy, Nagarathna getting a glimpse into the life of Gopal through the calls and messages
“In those days, things were not as open-minded,” Nagarathna admits. “To some extent, there were a lot of people who were not comfortable with a boy and girl hanging out. Indirectly, they would discourage me, a little comment by one person on behalf of another, or a senior colleague suggesting that Gopal might ditch me and go. But we never cared, we ignored it.”
The talk died down after they tied the knot in 1983.
“We stayed on campus for over 11 years. The children were free to go around. The Gymkhana would screen films, and all the kids would go there and one of the parents would accompany them. It was great,” Nagarathna says.
Their relationship also left a deep impact on each other’s careers. It was at Nagarathna’s urging that Gopal pursued higher education. Her knowledge of the administrative labyrinth, as she was looking into student matters at the Institute, proved invaluable. “He was doing research while working. I was in IISc, and I knew how to help with admin stuff.”
They charted their journey through the campus, Gopal retiring from ECE after a long and fruitful innings while Nagarathna taking voluntary retirement after having worked in the Centre for Electronics Design and Technology (CEDT, now DESE), the Deans’ office and the Centre for Atmospheric and Oceanic Sciences (CAOS).
“Our time in Institute was a great one,” Nagarathna admits coyly. “The campus was good to us. There were so many connections and friends … it was wonderful. IISc gave me a wonderful career and a personal life too. I am very grateful forever to IISc.”
A campus marriage story
In 1990, Meena Varadaraj stepped into the High Voltage Engineering (HVE) office, fresh from completing her PUC. As her parents embarked on a search for a suitable groom, one familiar face emerged from the crowd – Dayal Padmanabhan, who worked in the Soil Mechanics lab at the Department of Civil Engineering. Their paths often crossed at IISc, thanks to common friends, and before long, they realised that marriage was simply a matter of time.
“For eight months before our wedding, we met every single day. It gave us time to talk, to truly understand each other,” Meena reminisces.
The Institute, undergoing a hiring spree, was filling up with young professionals. Soon, vibrant groups of boys and girls formed, converging in cafeterias and coffee joints. Amid these lively gatherings, Meena and Dayal carved out their own moments. With no mobile phones or instant messaging, their time on campus was their only opportunity to connect.
With no mobile phones or instant messaging, their time on campus was their only opportunity to connect
Dayal, then living with friends in the city, was far from his family in Pondicherry. Seeing this, Meena began bringing him home-cooked lunches – a small yet meaningful gesture that spoke volumes about their growing affection.
“The girls would tease us whenever we were together,” Meena recalls, with a smile. “We’d go for coffee with our groups, meeting at the Coffee Board or Kabini.
Once, we both skipped work to catch a movie – only to run into my colleague at the theatre! We had to beg her not to give us away,” she laughs.
Their journey took a new turn after they married in 1993. While Meena continued her career at IISc, moving from HVE to the Department of Physics and later the UG Office, Dayal’s passion for cinema took centre stage. He had been ghost-writing for film directors, but his big break came in 2002 when his Tamil dialogues in Upendra’s H2O gained recognition. In 2004, he took the leap, leaving IISc behind to pursue filmmaking full-time. Today, he is a highly successful producer and director in the Kannada film industry.
“The time we spent on this campus was special,” Meena reflects. “It’s where we met, fell in love, and built our life together. Even our daughter spent her early years here, attending the Baby Care Centre until she was 10. Looking back, these memories feel like a beautiful chapter of our lives.”
Roles of a lifetime
The IISc campus is filled with memories for Anindita Bhadra. It is not the same campus that she walked into as a PhD scholar at the Centre for Ecological Sciences at the turn of the millennium. It has changed, evolving with time. She remembers sitting beneath the JN Tata statue in front of the main building and spending an entire night playing Laterals (a game where one makes a statement, and others must ask questions to learn about the backstory) with her friends and future husband, Ayan Banerjee.
Anindita was in her first year at IISc when the Bengali Cultural Association in the Institute, Spandan, was putting together their yearly Saraswati puja festivities. She was asked to partake in a play which was to be the headliner of the merriment. It was during the acting rehearsals that she met Ayan, who was five years into his PhD at the Department of Physics.
“That is where we met for the first time,” Anindita says. The rehearsals offered the two time and opportunity to meet. They would wander the campus, walking to and from practising their craft. “Eventually, these walks and chats matured into a relationship,” Anindita says. “Ayan used to live in S Block, so we would go on long walks down that road. It was lush green all around. We would also hang out at Tea board or Coffee board. Sometimes, we would sit in the Gymkhana ground. We were also often together doing theatre rehearsals.”
When the couple decided to get married in 2003, the first person Anindita informed of her impending nuptials was her mentor, Raghavendra Gadagkar. Ayan was finishing his doctoral work at the campus and was looking towards post-doctoral studies in Germany when the two decided to tie the knot. As it happened, Ayan stayed back and took up a research job in the city.
“RG (Prof Gadagkar) and I were very close. Ayan and I wanted to take up the married apartment option (at IISc), so we decided that we would get our marriage registration done here before going back home for the wedding. We needed a witness signature to start the registration process, and I got it signed by RG,” Anindita admits.
The couple moved into the Bhaskara studio apartment at the KV campus, and had their son while Anindita was completing her doctoral research. Once she finished her projects and coursework, at Gadagkar’s suggestion, Ayan and Anandita applied to faculty positions at IISER Kolkata, where they have now been working for over 15 years.
(Edited by Abinaya Kalyanasundaram)
