It was a beautiful blue sky with white clouds that day — July 25th 1960. Disappearing before my eyes into the horizon was the shoreline of Mumbai, as the boat carrying us started moving away from the Mumbai harbor. I saw the waving hands of my brother Cheenu and my paternal uncle Ramanathan as they were bidding me a “bon voyage”. We three had arrived on time earlier that morning. Since my uncle was a Navy photographer, he knew the layout of the harbor well and directed the taxi driver to the designated pier without getting lost. As I was about to embark I distinctly recall my uncle’s assertive voice as he held my hands firmly saying “no smoking or drinking”.

S.M.S. Circassia was a Scottish cargo boat that would stop in Aden (Yemen), then sail through the Red Sea to Port Said (Egypt) and Gibraltar (Spain) before it reached Liverpool. It carried only thirty passengers. My cabin was in the bottom-most deck. I was assigned to a two bunk-bed cabin, on the top bunk. A jovial young Muslim, Hamid, en route Ottawa, Canada, was my co-passenger occupying the bottom bunk. A very cheerful elderly cabin attendant from Kerala, South India, brought our luggage. He gave us specific instructions to secure our luggage using the belts bolted to the floor. There were also belts to fasten ourselves when we slept at night as the boat would be pretty rocky for the next seven to eight days as we crossed the Arabian Sea. He conducted a mini tour of the boat and also showed some of us very diplomatically how to adjust the water temperature in the shower as well as the proper use of western toilets and toilet paper. He had a great sense of humor. It was here that I had my first-ever hot-water shower.

For the next seven days the boat rolled like a huge barrel and most of us got sea sick. Since I was a strict vegetarian I got a very generous supply of biscuits, nuts, apples, and milk. This was a cargo boat and there were no large formal rooms as we see in modern cruise ships. The upper decks, to which we had access at specific times, had an information desk, a reading room, a bar, and a snack counter.

As we entered the calm Red Sea the sailing became enjoyable and we were able to sleep well. I found that traveling over the deep ocean, experiencing its grandeur and awesomeness, made me more humble. It helped me to reflect on my own development and the purpose in my life.

It was August 7th when we landed in Port Said, and it was hotter than Mumbai. I sent a picture postcard to my parents. We were allowed to go ashore and come back in eight hours. They cautioned us about the pick pockets and advised us to take only the cash we may need along with our passports and permits to reenter the pier. I took my briefcase, my wallet, and a hand towel from my cabin to wipe my sweat as it was very humid and hot. Hamid and I took a sight-seeing taxi and ate in a small Arabic restaurant. I opted for a vegetarian meal of rice while Hamid relished his lamb dish. This was the first good meal I’d had since leaving Mumbai.

On our return to the boat, as I was getting out of the back door of the taxi, the driver made a quick and speedy departure. I had only a fraction of a second to grab my briefcase containing my passport, documents, and wallet from the back of the taxi. Had I delayed for even the blink of an eye it would have been a major disaster so early in my long cherished journey. Just imagine the incalculable dire consequences! My guardian angel saved me.

In London, England

After a calm two-day cruise in the Mediterranean Sea we reached Gibraltar, but we were not to disembark. Finally, after twenty-one days of sailing, the boat landed at Liverpool late in the evening of August 14th. We slept in our cabins that night after getting clear instructions as to how to take the train to London the next morning. The train ride to London was very scenic. I arrived with my buddy Hamid at the Euston Station in the late afternoon and took one of the famous London cabs to the nearest YMCA hostel. I was exhausted and had lost more than 10 lbs. I mailed picture postcards to my parents informing them of my safe arrival I London, then booked accommodations until August 26th when I would leave from Southampton. Hamid and I had adjacent beds in a large dormitory containing about ten beds. This was all novel to me.

On the cargo ship I had picked up a well-illustrated map of London and its underground train system. Hamid and I went to the Charring Cross underground station not too far from the hostel to get to the nearest Indian restaurant, Coomaraswami, as we were both starving for curried food. The manager told us that we have to wear a neck tie to eat at that restaurant. In all naivety I inquired if it was a must, since the restaurant was Indian. He said yes, because “the restaurant is in England”. We wasted no time in getting ties from a little shop across the street. We came back and ate a sumptuous meal lasting for almost an hour. We were both exhausted and went directly back to our YMCA in a cab where we slept for more than ten hours before the cleaning maid woke us up.

I spent the next ten days in London. I got used to the underground train system within a day as the maps were very clear with each route color coded. It seemed to me that one would have to be an idiot to get lost in the London underground. It was a wonderful experience to take the sightseeing double-decker bus to the important landmarks. I found it comforting to see several Indian restaurants in the main section of the city. I window shopped for two days with Hamid in Oxford Street and at the well-known department stores, Marks & Spenser and Selfridges. I have never seen such grand and luxurious stores in my life where one can get such a variety of merchandise. I got a blue winter coat, a combination jacket, two pairs of trousers and a woolen sweater with the help of a very cooperative salesman who that advised regarding the size, color, and quality.

A few days after arrival in London Hamid flew to Ottawa. Now on my own, I took the walking tours and shopped at London’s largest book store, Foyles. It was during this walking tour that a very significant incident took place. As I strolled in the park outside the Savoy Hotel trying to locate a space to eat my snack, I saw a family of four picnicking on a park bench. The man greeted me with big smile and invited me to join them but I was initially hesitant and shy since this is the first time I was to meet and talk with a white family. After mutual introductions we got to talking. He was Scotsman, and a Unitarian Minister from Wilmette, Illinois, in the USA. After we got comfortable with our accents, I posed him a question that was pressing and relevant to me. It went somewhat like this: “Since I am going to live in a predominantly Christian environment when I get to Madison, I am eager to know if the Christians in the USA consider Hindus as spiritual even though they do not believe in Christ.” He explained the Unitarian stand on this and said that I should get to know the “Baha’i Faith” which endorses and accepts all major religions. I wondered inwardly, “how can this be?” He also said that I should one day visit the Baha’i Temple in his town of Wilmette which is not too far from Madison, Wisconsin. This was the first time ever I heard the word Baha’i. I noted it down in my pocket diary on August 16th, as “BAR HIGH”, since that was the way it sounded to me because of his Scottish accent. We parted shaking hands warmly and his wife was kind enough to invite me to their home if I ever come to Wilmette, Illinois.

What impressed me most during my memorable ten-day stay in London was the cleanliness of the city (in contrast to Indian cities), disciplined traffic, well-maintained buildings and historic sites, manicured gardens, and signs all over making it easy for the visitors. My burning question at this stage was why is it that with all the noble philosophy and education that Indians have, why is the country and society so deplorably poor?

To Madison , Wisconsin

The boat from Southampton to Montreal was a regular passenger boat with excellent roomy cabins, quite luxurious when compared to the cargo boat from Mumbai. Here I could chat freely with the cabin attendant, and I inquired if I could have vegetarian meals. He said that would be no problem, and I got steamed rice and steamed vegetables practically for every meal. It was a comfortable seven-day sailing in the calm Atlantic. Talking to other passengers, I found that I was able to understand the American English accent better than the British. I got acquainted with many German students who were returning to their colleges after the summer break, which gave me an opportunity to practice my German.

We landed in Montreal on the beautiful morning of September 3rd, 1960. A dear friend from Calcutta, Shankar Mukherjee, welcomed me at the pier. He was doing his doctoral studies at McGill University. We had a lunch of rice and curried vegetable in his apartment not far from the University. Then he took me on a short tour of Montreal and we enjoyed its beauty from a park on the top of a hill.

Then I took the Greyhound overnight bus to Madison, Wisconsin. The bus was roomy, luxurious, and comfortable when compared to the ones in Calcutta. This was the first time I had seen such a fine transportation. On the bus was a big happy group of high school students returning to Appleton, Wisconsin after their summer vacation in Europe. They were a naughty and noisy bunch constantly interrupting the sleep of other passengers, including myself. We entered the USA at Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, and passed the customs without any problem. A big party welcomed the students at Appleton with big banners. I reached my destination of Madison late Sunday evening of September 4th and realized that I had travelled for forty three days since leaving Mumbai. The bus driver was kind enough to drop me just in front of the downtown YMCA, where I stayed for two nights. In those days one could just walk in and get rooms in the YMCA dorms.

The following morning I prayed, thanking the Lord immensely for enabling me to get to my destination safely. That day was the American holiday Labor Day, and I had a leisurely walk in the morning around the square that surrounds the imposing state capital building. I mailed picture postcards to India.

University of Wisconsin

The following day I called for an appointment to meet my professor at the Dept. of Biochemistry and learned that he would see me within the hour. I put on the new clothes I had bought in London and took a taxi across the enormous campus. Dr. Laurens Anderson, (Andy as we called him later) greeted me warmly with a big smile. He was a tall Scandinavian man with a long neck and prominent Adam’s apple. He showed me around the lab, briefly introduced me to his research students, and too me to meet Dr. Robert Burris, the department chair, to sign the fellowship contract. I was given a check for $200 as an advance salary by his secretary, who also explained how and when the monthly checks will be coming and gave me the names and addresses of nearby banks.

Andy had made tentative arrangements for me to stay in Breeze Terrace, a rooming house only one mile from the lab. I felt lucky to get a single bedroom accommodation in that crowded University town. We drove to meet the landlady, Mrs. Lundgren, and finalized the rental agreement for $30 per month. I thanked Andy immensely for all he did for me that day. I moved from the Y to the boarding house that same evening. That weekend I wrote a fifteen page letter to my parents detailing my adventures since I left Mumbai.

Ms. Lundgren was a German married to a Scandinavian. She worked in one of the three student cafeterias. She and her retired husband lived in the ground floor of their house and rented four rooms on the upper floor to students. She was a kind and understanding lady, but her expectations were unambiguously clear and she had “zero tolerance” for anyone not conforming to her rules. She gave me a printed list of the rules and was kind enough to go over them so that I understood them clearly: no loud music, drinking, partying or bringing girl friends to the rooms. She said this is what she does to anyone renting her rooms irrespective of where they come from. My room was bright and spacious, and had just enough furniture. There were two good-sized bathrooms for the four of us to share, one with a shower and the other with a bathtub. There was a washing machine and a vacuum cleaner. I mention these details as these things were new to me. The Lundgrens invited all four of us for a tea that weekend to get acquainted with each other. I felt very comfortable living with the other three guys: Morley Barlow, Larry Miller, and John Smith.

The next day Andy gave me a broad introduction to his projects and more particularly the needed background for my research I was given a small lab space initially while waiting to move to the space occupied by one of Andy’s doctoral students who would be leaving the lab in three to four weeks since his dissertation was over. This was Nair, an Indian student from the State of Kerala. He gave me very useful tips on how to work with Andy, based on his three years experience. There were two Chinese and three American students working for doctorate degrees in Biochemistry under Andy. The biochemistry deptartment was well known for a full range of important discoveries in the field of vitamins and minerals. The Enzyme Institute was headed by the Indian scientist, Hargobind Khorana, the Nobel Prize winner for his work in nucleic acids.

Madison, the capital of Wisconsin, is a beautiful University town with two scenic lakes, Manona and Mendota. The University of Wisconsin is one of ten land-grant colleges established in 1886. In 1960 it had more than ten thousand students from all parts of the world. There were over fifty buildings set in a large well-manicured campus. The Student Union was the hub of the Campus and had a large auditorium/symphony hall, several meeting rooms, two formal dining halls, a cafeteria, and “The Terrace”, a popular outdoor space overlooking Lake Mendota. It was in the student union auditorium that I watched the exciting TV debates between the hot contesting candidates, Kennedy and Nixon. “Rathskeller,” a popular beer parlor within the Student Union, was a meeting place for hot debates on practically every subject, and sometimes riots after a football game whether or not U of W won or lost. Boys and girls mixed freely. I had never seen any such educational institution with such a diversity of language, race, color, and ethnicity. There was a lot of freedom but, it seemed to me, with no responsibility.

There was no Indian restaurant in spite of the fact that there was a sizeable population of students from India. They roomed together in a sort of mini ghetto, and had their own dining and singing parties to celebrate India’s festival holy days. I did not socialize with them very much as I wanted to get to know the students from other courtiers and their cultures. However, I developed good friendship with two Indian doctoral students, both last named Rao, first names Narayan and Venkateswara. (Note the similarity of the second name to our family deity in Thirupathi and our family physician mentioned earlier.)

I soon established a daily routine for myself: breakfast in the cafeteria at 8:00am, then work in my lab until 5:30pm, and get out to eat a evening meal in one of the off-campus restaurants. I realized how my home food had conditioned me and it was quite a struggle to modify my diet and keep healthy. It was then I realized the importance of a good breakfast to make my day go better. I had more energy to read or work till late in the evenings. I have kept this habit of eating breakfast even to this day. In the student cafeteria meals were no doubt nutrient-rich but very boring for a vegetarian. The evening meals in the city’s Chinese or Italian restaurants were more interesting. I began liking pizza but only with cheese, mushrooms and tomatoes; no meat. Once in a while I got invited by the Indian students to share their rice and curry. Weekends I washed and ironed my clothes and went to the library or the Student Union. Every ten days I wrote a letter to my parents.

It was common in those days for students from India to get audio equipment that can operate on either 110v or 220v power and take it back to India after graduation. I missed hearing Indian music, so I acquired a sturdy stereo console with record player and AM/FM radio, plus a tape recorder, both Grundig brand, from a discount store frequented by Indian students. The quality and tone of the stereo console was excellent. I remembered my mother struggling to fine-tune our radio with great frustration to make the music more enjoyable to hear. On an impulse, I decided to send her the gift of a quality record player with built-in radio, what we called a “radiogram” in India. My father had been promoted and transferred again to New Delhi and was living in a spacious house in a government colony for senior officials. I wrote to my old Calcutta friend Goswami, who was with the Philips Company in New Delhi, and requested him to get the best radiogram their company makes, no matter how much it costs. I asked him to install the equipment in my parents home and surprise my mother with this gift from Pattabi. He accomplished the mission and I soon had a warm and loving letter of thanks from my mother.

One day in early October as I was walking to my lab I saw a card pinned in the notice board. In very poor calligraphy it said, “Do you want to know about the Baha’i Campus club? Please come for our first meeting at the Student Union.” I had an inward laugh, thinking that this poorly inscribed placard must be from the Indians in the campus who misspelled the word “bhai,” which means “brother”. I went anyway just to see what the Indians are doing in this club. To my surprise, I found that this meeting was held by members of the Baha’i Faith of Madison. This was the very same group which was mentioned by the Unitarian Minister I chatted with in the London park outside the Savoy Hotel! There were about fifteen attendees with varied cultural backgrounds. The speaker was an Iranian student with a very heavy Middle Eastern accent, hard for me to comprehend. He gave a talk on the Baha’i Faith, the details of which I do not remember. But I do remember that he mentioned Krishna as the founder of the Hindu Faith. During the discussion I boldly challenged his statement about the founding of the Hindu Faith and requested that his religion should correct this. However, at the end I picked up a pamphlet entitled, “Goal of the World Order of Baha’u’llah”, written by Shoghi Effendi. I read and reread that pamphlet as it was written in excellent English prose. I was awestruck and overwhelmed by the vision for humanity envisaged by the Baha’is. I asked myself an ethnocentric question, “What do the Baha’is have that the Hindus do not have? Why can’t the Hindus build such a future for India with the eternal philosophy of the Vedas?” Since my interest then was only in rebuilding India, that was all that I could think about. I never worried about the world community at large, and I did not investigate the Baha’i Faith any further while in Madison.

In early November I got good news that my brother Cheenu, who had just finished his engineering degree program when he saw me off in Mumbai, had secured an engineer’s job at the government steel plant in the town of Rourkela, not too far from Calcutta. Furthermore, he was among a group of engineers from that plant that would be in the USA for a year’s training at steel mills in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. He was slated to come over later that month, on Thanksgiving. I decided to use this holiday weekend to meet him in New York. I took my first-ever air flight, and Cheenu was very happy to see me as he got off the plane. This was the first visit to New York for both of us. We did some sightseeing and shopping and he bought a winter coat. In Times Square I bought my first camera, a Minolta with zoom lens. Before I returned to Madison I visited the Ramakrishna Mission Center in Manhattan and procured for my library the book “Yogas and other Works” by Swami Vivekananda, which I had often perused at the library at the University of Wisconsin.

Period of Questioning and Reflecting

I grew up as cultural Hindu in India not knowing the core principles of my own religion. I was reading books only to pass the examinations; I had not one book for my own development. Going to the U of W library was a great stimulation for me. I had never seen such a fine collection of books on Hinduism under one roof. Thought that if I was ever to learn more about my religion of Hinduism, this is time and place. Combing the stack of books I came across a title “Yogas and Other Works” by Swami Vivekananda which I thought should be my starting point. In this time of my life I was asking a whole bunch of questions. I found several books that helped me shape my world view. Among them was Kahlil Gibran’s “The Prophet,” Herman Hesse’s, “Siddhartha” and a book by an Indian philosopher, Jiddu Krishnamurti’s “You should ask these Questions”. I was glued to these books and loved to read in my bed. After reading Siddhartha I resolved that if I have a son one day, I will not think for him.

That winter I finished reading “Yogas and Other Works” by Swami Vivekananda. I was awestruck to know in depth for the first time about the mission which Swami Vivekananda had launched. He had a glorious vision of a completely rejuvenated India. He realized that true spirituality was the backbone of the Indian people and said India will surely perish if they discarded the Vedanta philosophy. It was from the writings of Swami Vivekananda that I got to understand the core principles of the Vedanta philosophy, which as I understood it, went somewhat like this:

The Universe is permeated by the same pervasive DIVINE POWER / CREATIVE FORCE (BRAHMAN).

The Brahman consequently resides in each creation and individual consciousness (ATMAN/soul).

Purpose of life is to bring about the union between the Brahman and the Atman and seek the welfare of all beings.

Since Brahman is UNIVERSAL, humans (because of their shared spirituality) belong to a single extended human family.

Accepts multiplicity of paths to experience the Divine.

Swami Vivekananda blamed India’s plight on the superstition, priest craft, the caste system, and hypocrisy that had supplanted true religion. He strongly advocated inter-caste marriage and a radical change in the Hindu dietary habits for which he became unpopular among the orthodox. At the Parliament of the World’s Religions held in 1893 in Chicago, he outlined the criteria for a Universal Religion. He wanted to lead mankind to the place where there will be neither the Vedas, the Bible, nor the Quran, and yet this has to be done by harmonizing these sacred books. Inwardly I was wondering, “How could such a harmonization be achieved?” This has been my quest since I read Vivekananda.

Winter was fast approaching and I felt the need of a car. Venkat helped me locate my first car, a seven-year-old blue Pontiac, for $30 from a student who had to leave the country on short notice. The car had snow tires and I would have to renew the front brakes. I was in a quandary: which should I get first, the car or my driver’s license? I decided to get the car since Venkat promised that he would help me get the license. But he cautioned that he will be very strict and even shout at me if I do not follow his directions. I got a “student driver learning permit”. For the next two months, three times a week, he gave me driving lessons starting at first in a huge parking lot. From his experience he knew what the examiners expect. I practiced for several weeks driving on the routes which the examiners take. I got my driver’s license on my second attempt after failing miserably in my first due to icy road conditions.

I did not realize that I needed winter boots over my regular shoes until I experienced the first winter storm which dumped eight inches of snow on the campus. Venkat helped me get the boots, and I quickly learned to walk in the icy roads. What a change for a boy from tropical Chennai who was barefooted until the age of seventeen!

My check for $325 came regularly at the beginning of each month, and they withheld about $50 in taxes. My work at the lab did not take off as I expected. The compounds I was researching were carbohydrates, all water soluble and difficult to purify. I had to learn new techniques of identifying and analyzing these compounds. Andy encouraged me to keep on going. He had patience and understanding because he knew the nature of research.

That year’s Christmas was the first ever I spent in North America. There were Christmas parties in the department and an exchange of gifts. Andy invited me go to their church with his family and then to his house for a dinner on Christmas Eve. Knowing the custom, I had gifts for his three children and a bouquet of flowers to Mrs. Doris Anderson. Doris had a special vegetarian meal for me. There were also two of Andy’s students, Chuck and Paul with their wives. This was my first ever dinner with an American family and there was an incident that happened which was very embarrassing to me. After we finished the main course, dessert was served and I started eating mine. Carl, Andy’s eight-year-old son who was sitting on the opposite side facing me, also started biting his dessert. His five-year-old little sister, Pam, sitting next to him, immediately stopped Carl eating his dessert saying that he should wait until everyone has been served. Carl retorted saying “See what Dr. Raman is doing? He is eating his dessert and I am following him.” Pam immediately responded saying, “Dr. Raman does not know the rules in our country as he is from India.” Everyone burst into laughter at her cute remark. No doubt it was a very warm and enjoyable family get together.

The Department of Biochemistry had a generous policy that a visiting research scholar could take one semester of any academic course in the hard sciences, tuition-free. I opted to take an introductory practical laboratory course on “Working and Handling Radioactive Chemicals” offered by the department chair, Dr. Bob Burris. This consumed three hours per week of my regular research time, but Andy had no objection as long as I put myself to work in the evenings to make up the time. This was the most valuable course I have ever taken in my academic career. Bob was an exceptionally warm human being, always encouraging but demanding quality work. I got A+ with a certificate of completion as a guest student.

The weather was getting cold. The lakes in Madison were frozen solid in the sub-zero temperatures. I went out of my room only to go to my lab and to eat. One evening in December I had a talk with Mrs. Lundgren and expressed my desire to rent a room with kitchen facilities since I was finding it difficult to manage with the restaurant food. This meant that I would be moving out of her rooming house. She immediately responded saying that Professor Anderson had given her a verbal assurance that I will rent the room for a whole year. However, she was very understanding of my eating situation and surprisingly offered me a solution which was hard to refuse. She looked me straight in the eye, saying, “Dr. Raman, I do not want you to live in the Indian ghetto. You should be different from other Indians in this respect.” She was willing to let me use their basement kitchenette which was more than adequate for me. We went down to the basement through the separate back door entrance and she demonstrated how to keep the refrigerator, gas burners, and the stove tops immaculately clean, saying men in general, more particularly bachelors, are not good house keepers. She showed me the cooking utensils, dinner ware, and cutlery and also showed me how and where to dispose of kitchen wastes. I would pay an extra $10 per week for the new arrangement, which I thought was a very reasonable increase. I could not be happier and gave her a big hug. I shopped for spices and groceries and had my first cooking experience with the gas stove. I cooked my favorite dish “UPPUMA” — cream of wheat cooked with sautéed onion and green chilies. This arrangement was a great relief, and I began to feel much healthier.

It had taken me six months to get well settled in the new environment. Over this period I had developed a good friendship with Morley Barlow, the student living across the hall. He was a very quiet, personable and sober fellow, no drinking or smoking. He had a TV in his room and I was always welcome to watch the evening news and the presidential debates. When Morley invited me to come with him to Denver where his parents were retired farmers, I gladly accepted. He flew to Denver few days before the Spring break and I took the Zephyr, a train with a transparent glass dome. Morley bought a new two-door yellow Ford in Denver and we drove back to Madison together. In fact we had a wonderful mini-vacation, stopping at the nearby National Parks, Pike’s Peak, and other points of interest.

One evening in early June I got a call from my brother Cheenu saying that he was in Des Moines, Iowa. He and his three colleagues took a road trip from Pittsburg to see the West Coast, but on their way back got into an accident which totaled their car. They decided to go their separate ways and he was taking his opportunity to come to Madison to spend the rest of his vacation time. Nothing could have been better news for me. I picked him up at the Chicago bus station and we spent two enjoyable days in Madison together.

One Saturday in June, my house mates and I were having lunch in an Italian restaurant in downtown Madison when an Indian couple with two boys came to occupy the table next to us. The mother was wearing a typical South Indian sari and from their apparel and mannerism we could figure out that they were from an upper-middle-class family. They spoke my native language of Tamil. We exchanged greetings in Tamil. He was Mr. Chari, the Cultural Attaché at the Indian Embassy in Washington D.C., and they were on vacation, proceeding north to Minneapolis. They will be back in Madison in a week’s time to explore their first son’s undergraduate admission at the University of Wisconsin. They were all vegetarians. The three of us looked at each other and invited them to have their lunch or dinner at our place. They did come the following Saturday. We had cleaned up our house and I prepared a typical South Indian dinner, which they each complimented heartily. They extended an invitation to each one of us to visit them if we are in the D.C. area.

It was August of 1961 and my first year in America was coming to an end. Andy and I had a heart to heart chat on the progress of the research work. I had put in a year of hard work without any tangible results. We agreed to continue for one year more, but to pursue a slightly different project, the goals of which will still fall within the parameters of the grant. I got very enthused as the initial experiments in his new project yielded positive results. That fall and winter I worked late in my lab with hope and patience. I realized that I would have to get a fellowship in some other University at least for one more year since my J1 non-immigrant visa cannot be renewed after three years.

With mixed feelings I decided to leave Mrs. Lundgren’s rooming house. I moved to a three bedroom house with a good kitchen and a living room costing $75 per month. It was partially furnished and I bought my first TV. Two other Indian research workers, Rajan and Rajaraman, shared the rent with me. I did the cooking, they washed the dishes, and we took turns in doing the housekeeping chores. This arrangement worked out very well.

In September I learned that Dr. Arum Kumar Barua, my friend and research guide at the Bose Institute in Calcutta, had come to the University of Buffalo, in New York state, for a year of research work with Prof. Thomas Bardos. I spoke with Dr. Barua by phone at that time, and during the Easter break the next spring I went to Buffalo to meet with Dr. Barua. I also met with Prof. Bardos at the School of Pharmacy, who was very much interested in getting me a postdoctoral fellowship for a cancer project for which he had gotten funding. On a mere handshake and with a high recommendation from Dr. Barua, I was assured of this fellowship for one year starting in September 1962.

That summer of 1962 my roommates and I decided to make a three week camping tour of the west prior to a research conference that I would attend in Denver. One more friend, Mr. Ramaswami Rao, also joined us. None of them had cars, and we needed a reliable vehicle. A new car would have cost us about $2500, but within a week we located a white 1957 Buick four-door in excellent condition for $400. Of course it was a big car with bench seats, but gas was only 20 cents per gallon, which was cheaper than a gallon of milk. Rajan was an expert in trip planning and he procured “TripTik” maps from AAA for the entire route, showing campsite locations. We bought camping gear and a gas stove for outdoor cooking. It was a marvelous trip which included visits to Yellowstone, the Seattle Worlds Fair, Crater Lake, San Francisco, Yosemite, Los Angeles, Disneyland, the Grand Canyon, and Las Vegas before arriving in Denver for my conference. I kept the car and we settled the trip expenses amicably. Andy reimbursed me for an amount equivalent to airfare from Madison to Denver, plus food and lodging at the conference site.

Move to Buffalo

On our return from the West Coast trip I wrote a final report on my research work and Andy had a chance to edit it. Our work in Madison resulted in only one joint research publication, in the English Journal The Lancet. When official appointment papers for my fellowship came from Dr. Bardos, I informed Andy of my move to the University of Buffalo and he was very much surprised.

I made arrangements to move to Buffalo in early September of 1962. My housemate Rajaraman wanted a ride to Detroit to meet one of the professors there. I happened to see a notice in the Student Union that a student named Carl Benson needed a ride to his hometown of Buffalo, and would share gas money. I contacted him immediately and I found him to be a pleasant and gentle fellow. We tentatively arranged our departure dates.

I had acquired a lot of things during my two-year stay in Madison and my baggage had tripled. I rented a small trailer, loaded all my stuff, picked up Carl, and we three were off to Buffalo on a beautiful Fall morning. I was choked with emotions when I drove off from Madison after spending two memorable years in that beautiful town. Rajaraman was dropped in Detroit, we stopped overnight in a motel, and were in Buffalo the next day. Carl was kind enough to invite me to stay at his family home after confirming this with his mother. I was received very warmly by the Bensons, and Ms. Benson said I could park my trailer in their driveway until I found an apartment. I found it challenging to parallel park the trailer but Carl, who was more experienced, was able to do it.

Fortunately, the School of Pharmacy was not on the main campus in Buffalo itself, but on the North Campus of the University of Buffalo in a suburb called Tonawanda, just a twenty-minute drive from Niagara Falls. That day late in the afternoon I met with Professor Bardos and signed the paperwork for the fellowship. He introduced me to his research students and there was a student from Calcutta, Amalendu Ghosh, working under him for his doctorate and many from India in the adjacent labs. I got some sound advice from the students as to where I should look for apartments close by as the winters in Buffalo are notorious for their severity. (Later I would enjoy the spectacular sight of Niagara Falls frozen in the winter.) The next day with the help of Amalendu I was able to locate a one bedroom apt, with a kitchenette, in an apartment complex in the town of Amherst only four miles from the School of Pharmacy. The same evening I moved in and I was very happy to have settled within three days of my arrival in Buffalo.

Professor Thomas Bardos was an extremely personable immigrant from Hungary who had formerly worked at the Cancer Center of the University of Budapest. He had a very distinct East European accent. With his calm disposition, pipe, and bushy moustache he appeared to be a very reflective wise man. Later in my tenure at the School of Pharmacy I realized that he was a party man and we had parties at his home frequently.

He explained to me the nature of the very interesting project: “Cells in certain types of cancer are very hungry for folic acid and accumulate this vitamin in great quantity inside their cells when compared to other cells. If we can find a way to deplete selectively the folic acid in these cells we have a potential drug for cancer. Literature shows that a group of chemical compounds called pteridines inhibit the action of folic acid in the test tube but not in biological systems. This is because the pteridines are water soluble and the cancer cells allow only fat soluble chemicals to penetrate their cell structure. If we can find a way to transport the pteridine molecules into the cancer cells we have the solution. So your project will be to couple the pteridine molecules with a fat soluble molecule, such as a steroid (close to cholesterol) to produce a transportable chemical.” I could hardly wait to begin my research in earnest.

The first paycheck from this fellowship came in October and I noticed it was for the full amount, that is, no tax has been taken. This was not so in Wisconsin, and I thought that perhaps the laws in New York State may be different. Dr. Bardos’ knowledgeable secretary then clarified my perception and told me that monies from grants coming from the National Cancer Institute or Federal grants from the National Institutes of Health are usually tax free. She also told me if I knew the source of the grant monies received by Dr. Anderson in Wisconsin I can appeal to the IRS for a refund. I thanked her for this suggestion kept this in my information bank.

Soon after my arrival in Buffalo I had to have my car insurance renewed from AAA who was my insurer. The agent was a cheerful and helpful fellow. He said I had to get New York plates for my car, but first I would need to get a New York driver’s license. Fortunately this only meant taking a road test after reading the New York State driver’s manual, not a written test. It was a breeze to pass the road test when compared to my experience in Madison.

I also learned that this fellow was a freelancer; besides being the AAA agent he had a part-time business as a Tax Consultant. I took his business card and a few days later when I got the info on my Wisconsin tax situation, I asked if he would pursue the matter of an IRS refund. He said he would be glad to do so. His fee for this service will be 10% of the tax refund. If there was no refund, he would only charge his normal service fee of $50. I agreed to his terms and gave him the number of the secretary of the biochemistry department, who was very helpful to me on my first day of meeting with Dr. Burris, the department chair, to get information on the source of my funds for my fellowship in Madison. I did not contact him any further.

The Baha’is in Buffalo

When I was comfortably settled in my new environment, one evening something motivated me to see if any members of the Baha’i Faith lived in Buffalo. I looked up in the telephone directory and called the number one Saturday afternoon to inquire if they have any meetings in the coming days. They told me that they may have one that evening and gave the address of the Wooster family in the city of Buffalo. When I called the Woosters they joyfully invited me to the meeting. I found that there was no organized meeting and when I inquired about the meeting they said humorlessly, “yes, are we not meeting now?”. Not much was spoken about the Faith and they were more curious to know about me, my profession, my religion, and how I heard about the Baha’i Faith. But I did have a very pleasant social hour with them. Their daughter, Sue Wooster, was going to the nursing school in the same complex where my lab was. They said I could come for an organized meeting called a “Fireside” to be held the following Saturday evening. I went to the meeting and the speaker was a Persian doctor interning at the Buffalo General Hospital. He spoke on two of the essential principles of the Faith: “Independent Investigation of Truth” and “ Harmony between Science and Religion”. His accent was more understandable than the one I listened in Madison. Being a man of science, he made a very logical presentation. We had a very informative question and answer period. The Woosters took my address and telephone number to keep me informed of future meetings.

I attended about six or seven meetings in the next six months. One Morley Smith from Rochester gave a fine talk with a great sense of humor saying that discussing religion can be a lot of fun. I was impressed with his sincerity. As I attended these meetings, I developed a list of questions, such as the Baha’i concept of God, free will vs predestination, the nature of the soul, life after death, and understanding pain and suffering. I was eager to get the Baha’i answers and to compare them with what I knew then from a Hindu perspective. Amazingly, there were only minor differences on most of the answers, except for “life after death.” Hindus believe in reincarnation, that is, the soul takes up another birth in this world depending upon the quality of the spiritual life one has lived. Baha’is believe in a continuous journey of the soul after death in the other realms of God, but not back to this earth.

At these meetings I often saw a very elegantly dressed lady with a thin and fragile constitution but with a firm voice. She was Mrs. Helen Brooks. She pulled me aside one evening and said that I would not get all the answers I needed for my questions in these meetings. However, she had an extensive library of Baha’i writings in her home and I could come every week and study the writings myself. She was a retired nurse who lived in a tiny house in the center of town and sold flowers at the 5 star hotel not too far from her home. Whenever I was free during the weekend evenings I went to her home and accepted her kind offer. This quiet reading time was precious to me and gave me a much better idea of the Baha’i teachings than before.

Mrs. Evelin Wooster loaned me a Baha’i book containing excerpts from the writings of Baha’ullah, the founder of the Baha’i Faith, as well as Abdu’l-Baha, which I read with great curiosity, though I did not know who was. Later I came to know that Baha’u’llah had authorized in writing that one should study the writings of His son Abdu’l-Baha’s writing in case one needs further explanation and understanding of His own writings. Complex philosophical ideas were explained in simple language by Abdu’l-Baha, with analogies drawn from nature.

From these meetings in Buffalo I got a clearer understanding of the Faith which can be summarized in the following paragraph:

There is a creative and divine force, origin and end of all things, which is an unknowable essence. People refer to this force as “God” (or as the Hindus say, “Eternal Brahman”, and as the Moslems say, “Allah”). God has provided intermediaries between Himself and humanity and has ordained that in every age a pure and stainless soul be made to appear whose one common and sole mission is to create a peaceful and unified community and to lift mankind from its present state to a higher level of spiritual development. These souls are the founders of all the major religions we recognize today and they are the world transformers and function as a spiritual dynamo from which man-making and nation-making forces emanate. Since ungodliness and consequent immoral behavior is a pervasive factor in every sector of present-day humanity, having a catastrophic and degenerative effect on mankind, God has intervened and sent us a world transformer in the human temple of Baha’u’llah. He has not merely advocated certain universal principles and ideals for the rebuilding of the world in a new order but has given laws for the new age and provided in His own writing, a divinely ordained plan or “modus operandi” for achieving the destined goal. This Faith has no clergy or priests and it is a “do it yourself” religion. It is spread by word of mouth. There exists today a world community called Baha’is, drawn from all religions, races, and strata of society whose members are experiencing the great force of love, unity and self-regeneration.
Though I agreed intellectually with all of this, as there was nothing contradictory to my belief as a Hindu, I thought, “I am yet to be convinced emotionally as to the claims of Baha’u’llah to be the vehicle chosen by the Almighty for the establishment of a new world order. Who is this individual in reality? No one could be a greater than I!”

Life in Buffalo

I got news from Calcutta that a former colleague of mine at the Bose Institute, Dr. Sachin Chakraborty, will be coming to the School of Pharmacy to work under a different professor in an adjacent lab. I was so happy to receive him, his wife, and their three-year-old son at the airport, and they were glad to see an old friend again. I got an apartment for them in the same complex I lived and got them settled in the new and foreign environment. After a month during which I drove him to the lab with me and assisted in their shopping, Sachin got his driver’s license and also a car. His uncle lived just an hour away at the University of Toronto and we planned a weekend trip to meet him and his family. He was Dr. Samir Sarkar, a professor in biology. He was married to a Rumanian immigrant and they had two sons. We enjoyed this visit thoroughly. I later took them sight-seeing to New York City and Washington, DC, during the spring break. While in DC I left the Chakrabortys at the Smithsonian Institution and went to see Mr. Chari, the Cultural Attaché at the Indian Embassy, whom I had met in Madison a year earlier. He showed me around the impressive Embassy and I had lunch at his home with his family.

One morning in April, I noticed among those who were walking in the corridor outside my lab an Indian with a pleasant face which was very familiar to me, but I could not recall his identity. I went out to greet him and we were glad to meet and recognize each other after seventeen years. He was Natarajan, a schoolmate in the Ramakrishna Mission High School in Chennai in 1946. He was a year senior to me and we had the same teachers. He was also a Tamilian Brahmin like me. He had come to Buffalo to meet one of his college mates who was in a research project in the lab next mine with Professor Baker. He agreed to have dinner with me that evening after visiting Niagara Falls. He said that he was still a vegetarian so I cooked a typical South Indian meal. Natarajan had a warm and joyful personality and we had a wonderful evening at my apartment exchanging our life events during the last seventeen years. After doing his undergraduate degree in pharmacy at the Benares Hindu University in India, he went to Germany to earn his doctorate in medicinal chemistry. He was currently a professor of chemistry at the University of Malaysia in Singapore and had come to the US to attend a conference. He invited me to come to Singapore and meet his four daughters and his wife Padma, a Buddhist from Sri Lanka, whom he met while they both were both studying in Benares. The two, being from different religions, were ostracized by both sets of parents because of their marriage.

The year 1963 was a very eventful year on many respects. Early in the year I got fine results in my work and synthesized two pteridine steroids by the end May. The compounds were sent to the Cancer Institute for their evaluation as folic acid antagonists in vivo. My Professor was thrilled to the extent that he wrote to US immigration in May 1963 saying that my research work was important in the cure of cancer and requesting an extension of my J1 visa beyond 1963. He attached a letter of support from the Director of the Roswell Park Cancer Institute in Buffalo, one of the leading institutions for cancer research in the US. As usual the immigration authorities delayed in responding and finally refused his request.

One fine Saturday morning in June, there was a knock at my door, and I was stunned to see two immigration officials and a highly decorated NY Police sergeant. I politely welcomed them to come in, through my apartment was not tidy enough for guests. They did not opt to come in, but stated that their purpose was to remind me that my visa has a three year limit and to make sure that I leave the country at the end of the period stamped in my passport.
In June of that year, Dr. Bardos took a bold step to inquire with the grantor whether this project and grant money could be transferred to the Ontario Cancer Research Center in Toronto, and if he could still direct the project from Buffalo. He was very disappointed when he got a negative response. But being a man who cannot take “no” for an answer on certain things, he called another research colleague of his, one Dr. Arthur Axelrod at the Ontario Cancer Institute to see if I could get a post-doctoral fellowship to work under him. Dr. Axelrod responded saying he would like to interview me and I took a trip to Toronto see him.

Arthur was an MD and also a Ph.D. in tumor biology and seemed exceptionally brilliant. He had a high regard for Professor Bardos and was glad to help someone introduced by him. Over lunch he explained, while writing on napkins, the kind of research he was doing. The work involved isolation of a protein that could possibly be an immunizing agent against leukemia, at least initially, in rats and other animals. I told him that I had the patience and the perseverance needed for any research. I was willing to learn and take the risk of working in a field unknown to me if he is also willing to take the risk of giving the project to an organic chemist. He was impressed with my attitude and gladly agreed to offer me a post-doctoral scholarship, worth $7000 (Canadian) per annum extendable after a year. He promised to send the official confirmation letter soon so that I may be able to get the much-needed immigrant visa. In those days one with a high professional credential and assured employment in Canada could get an immigrant status on their entry. It was the middle of June, 1963; I could join him any time after my affairs were settled in Buffalo. I thanked the Lord, and also thanked Professor Bardos for his total and unqualified concern for my professional future. What a genuine friend, philosopher, and guide!

That June I conveyed to the Baha’i Community in Buffalo my plan to move to Toronto and said goodbye to the Woosters in my last meeting with them. Mrs. Helen Brooks presented me a small compilation called “Hidden Words” by Baha’u’llah, which she said contains the “do’s and don’ts” from a Baha’i perspective.

The official appointment letter came from the Ontario Cancer Institute in early July, and so did a surprise call from my tax consultant. He said that his appeal to the IRS regarding my Wisconsin tax was approved and that I would soon be getting a check from them for $1150, the amount I had paid in Madison. This was quite an unexpected bonus. I thanked my guardian angel. The check arrived and my agent was thrilled to get 10% of the amount as per our agreement.

After much thinking for two days, I decided to make a six-week trip to India before I emigrate to Canada. Those days PAN AM had a sales promotion called “Around the World in 365 days — travel for $999”. The deal was that one can travel, in one direction only, to twelve cities with an open ticket. The passenger had a choice of the cities to which PAN AM and its allies had flights but there was a limit on the total mileage that could be covered with this ticket. Though the price was relatively high considering the cost of living in those days when gas was 22 cents a gallon, I thought that this is was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I booked my ticket to depart from Buffalo in the middle of August, and I was committed to be in Toronto in the middle of October. The cities I would visit were Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Paris, Vienna, Rome, New Delhi, Singapore, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Honolulu, and back to Buffalo. I wrote a detailed letter to my parents about my plan to come back home for a visit after three years. I got busy in getting the visas to travel in these countries, and also wrote to many of my friends about my plan to emigrate to Canada. Dr. Sarkar promised me to find a suitable location for me to reside on reaching Toronto.

Shortly after my writing, Mr. Chari called me to wish me good luck. When he heard that I would be away for a period of two months, he asked what I would be doing with my car during that time. He knew the excellent condition of the car from my visit to him in Washington, D.C. earlier that year. He proposed that I could leave the car with them. They could use a second car as their son was being interviewed for admission to several colleges. I responded positively, provided that he could come to Buffalo on the day of my departure and get the car, to which he gladly agreed. I had my auto insurance agent add extra drivers. Mr. Chari and his son met me punctually at my apartment on August 11th, the day of my departure, and drove me to the airport. Thus came the end of my stay in the USA and I was off on a “round the world” trip.

During my stay in the United States, I had gained much confidence in my own decisions, so that I was never afraid to face the unknown. I had come to realize that when a problem confronts you there is always a way to solve it in an honest way. The challenge is in the struggle to find it. I also found that I had spent too much energy on solving even small things — like using a ten-ton truck to move a strawberry.