Today celebrity coverage thrives on the frenzy for popular culture. If you have ever wondered about the life of a cerebral celebrity, then Uma Parameswaran’s biography on Lokasundari, Sir C.V. Raman’s wife would qualify as a breezy read. The author is Raman’s grand-niece.
Long before he delivered his Nobel lecture at Stockholm on December 11, 1930, when he was awarded the Nobel for Physics, C.V. Raman was a familiar name in the international scientific community. There is quite a lot of material in the public domain on Raman’s work, but this book’s USP is the wife’s take on Raman the man, the husband, son, brother and friend. Through her recollections we realise how two unconventional people stay together and yet retain their individuality.
Lokasundari, born in Madurai but raised in Madras by her sister Lakshmi and her ‘social activist’ husband Sivan, first sees Raman when he unconventionally comes home as a prospective groom. After ‘seeing’ Lokasundari, Raman writes to Sivan saying, “I am under the impression that your girl is in every respect, except that of personal attributes, infinitely superior to any other that I know of. I am almost but by no means perfectly certain that if I marry her, I shall be happy with her. ... In order that I may make up my mind upon this subject, it is necessary to have some slight degree of personal acquaintance with her… seeing that I am prepared to disregard the conventional prejudice against intersectal marriage, I think you can permit this. A stay of a day or two at your house will suffice.”
Intersectal wedding Given that this was 1907, that ‘house stay’ did not happen, and the marriage too almost did not happen, since Lokasundari’s father objected to intersectal alliance. After the intervention of leading personalities the marriage took place on June 2. The Hindu dated June 6 carried the news item, “An intersectal marriage was celebrated yesterday at the Maharajah of Vizianagaram Girls’ School premises, Triplicane. The bridegroom C Venkataraman (C.V. Raman’s official name), MA, recently appointed in the enrolled list in the Finance Department of the Govt of India… is of the Brahacharanam sect. The bride belongs to the Vadama sect. This marriage is of great importance from the social reformer’s point of view, as being the first of its kind.” Raman was 19 and the bride 14.
Post marriage, the job takes the couple to Calcutta, Nagpur, Rangoon and many other places, but for Raman the government job was a means to an end. He finds a university lab wherever he can, and is untiring in pursuing his passion after office hours. He doesn’t worry how his wife runs the house or handles the shift to new cities where language is a barrier.
Once when Lokasundari makes a sarcastic remark, he says “I know you would do an excellent job of it. Why should two people waste time on the same problem?” “She took care of everything while he spent his time unhampered, in his research,” says the author.
Like the time their street in Kalitola where they live in Calcutta is flooded and Raman is rants and raves about going to work but does nothing to help himself; she quickly grabs two stools and makes Raman walk on the improvised bridge, herself wading through the water, changing the position of the stools until he reaches high ground.
However, he was sensitive to women and their plight in general. Lokasundari says Raman was very observant, despite not seeming to notice. When she suddenly puts on weight, he tells her to go to a doctor. She resentfully says no but pays heed.
In many ways Raman comes through as both a traditionalist and a progressive man. When she opens her own bank account he tears up the pass book saying he will provide for her till his last. On another occasion when he is planning an official visit to Delhi, she wants to go along and see Agra. He refuses, saying he regretted every evening spent away from his research.
However, a few years later, when he is invited to deliver a series of lectures in Lahore, he takes her along, and it is their first holiday together. “They went to the gardens, and Raman spoke animatedly of the magic of colours and about sounds, the sounds of water splashing against the pool … The whole trip was an oft-dreamt dream come true.” Elsewhere, while talking of his work, he uses the progressive pronoun ‘we’ and Lokasundari realises it is his way of acknowledging her support.
The narrative ends, rather abruptly with the birth of their first child in 1921, and you wish the author hadn’t stopped so quickly. You do not get Lokasundari’s take on life after Nobel. Thankfully, the author discovers that Lokasundari had the habit of maintaining a diary and appends some entries at the end of the book. They tell you that Raman went skiing, but do not give his reaction to the first view of the Alps. Another entry dated August 7 1938, says “Dr Geddes and Prof (Raman) went flying” in Bangalore citing it as Raman’s first, and you wonder if he felt exhilarated or if his mind was on research! In fact, what we know of everything else about the couple, including their travels to UK and Europe, are to be found in the appendix. Had Lokasundari lived today, and recorded her views, she would be a huge hit on social media.
The author’s craft is light and breezy while her observations and character depictions are often funny and endearing. Lokasundari’s first exposure to an indoor toilet, and train journey from Madras to Waltair that the newly weds undertake along with their extended family remind you of RK Narayan, while Lokasundari’s pithiness sometimes remind you of Saki.
There is an attempt at social graphing by the author (years 1875 to 1920), of the tradition bound Brahmin community, and their gradual job mobility towards to north India armed with a sound grounding in English.
All of that makes for a mixed taste. However, we get that the yin and the yang were in perfect sync in Raman and Lokasundari.
