The great Indian mother tongue tango: Pride, slaps and salty tea
While the world obsesses over LLMs (Large Language Models), India is busy with its own flavour of LLMs: Lots of Language Modes slapped onto faces.
India has always been like the Tower of Babel.
Satyen K Bordoloi
In Mumbai's latest episode of "Speak Marathi or Else", early July, some traders found themselves slapped, not with fines they can manage, but greasy palms slammed on their faces at the speed of xenophobia. For what? For choosing Hindi over the local lingo. While language pride is laudable, turning it into a nasty contact sport has been India's national pastime since... well, since Jawaharlal Nehru's reluctance to divide the nation along linguistic lines was overruled.
So, while the globe hyperventilates over 'language' in a different way with their LLMs—Large Language Models—churning out Shakespearean sonnets, we Indians deploy our impromptu street language audits or every Som, Danish and Harish. I know, because I have faced it myself.
It is Bangalore, 2007, my first day in Karnataka. Fresh off the bus, feeling unwell, I drag myself to a pharmacy. What I receive isn't just Paracetamol, but also a hearty dose of Kannadiga pride, served up by a sweetly smiling elderly uncle. "Why don't you speak in Kannada?" he inquires, like he's offering me sweet nakul dana from the latest aarti in the nearest temple. "I will," I reply, "if I stay here longer! This is just my first hour in your magnificent city!" I think that truth plus city-pride-hyperbole would end the matter. Silly me. Uncle now deploys his own kamikaze logic drone. He beams, radiating the positivity of a thousand suns (Now, I am become Death?): "Then it's the perfect day to start!"
My expression? Pure, unadulterated, "Dude. Seriously?" Thankfully, my pills arrive, rupees change hands, and below a bewildered headshake, my legs carry me back to the hotel at Olympic speed to escape this linguistic conversion.
And you know the irony? That uncle's well-intentioned ambush backfired. It, and other incidents reported in the media since, left such a bad taste that I developed an involuntary reflex to avoid Karnataka. I've since ventured there only with the enthusiasm of a cat facing bath time. And the tragic, personal casualty? Hampi. That glorious miracle of the Vijayanagaran Empire is firmly in my global top-five must-sees. Yet, while I travel the world – doing slow-tourism of Varanasi (Hinduism HQ) and Rome (Christianity Central) just in the last year, Hampi eludes. All thanks to one retired gentleman with more time for linguistic gatekeeping than, following our scriptures, to, you know, leave for Sannyasa ashram.
Since then, every news flash about someone getting thwacked in Maharashtra (where I've now lived half my years), Karnataka, or frankly anywhere for linguistic reasons, instantly teleports me back to that Bangalore pharmacy. That cocktail of anger and frustration bubbles right back up. If our aan, baan, shaan, and our naam, namak, nishaan, is our nation, India, why let hyper-local supra-pride manifest as public humiliation? Will insulting someone in the name of your 'mother' tongue make your mother proud, or serve as an advertisement for the "greatness" of your language and culture? And does it come with a brochure? A free phrasebook, with the address to the nearest night school that teaches your language? Nope? Just a stinging cheek followed by decades of resentment.
Those of you branding me an anti-lingo or anti-national, hold your horses, cause the truth is the opposite! Genetically hailing from the Far East (Assam), raised in the Far West (Gujarat), and having loitered all over the country since, I've become a linguistic chameleon. Gujarati, Hindi, Assamese? Speak, read, write. Hindustani and Urdu? Proficient enough to order biryani with poetic flair (even began learning Farsi as a kid, till a new Maulvi proclaimed me Hindu and banished me). Bengali, Punjabi, Marathi? Understand fluently, speak like a charmingly broken robot. Nagamese, Oriya? I catch the drift, generally. The glorious dialects and languages under Hindi: Braj Bhasha, Bundeli, Haryanvi; Awadhi, Bagheli, and Chhattisgarhi; Maithili, Bhojpuri and Magahi?
Perfect comprehension, passable spoken attempts. I'm basically a walking, talking poster for national integration, or in today's lingo, for "Bharat Mata ke bhasha ki jay".
My Achilles' heel? Total blackout on the Tibeto-Burman tongues of the North-East. And shamefully, the magnificent four Southern languages. Though, while living in Hyderabad for a bit, I did dabble in Telugu, enough to land myself in hot water with a client after calling him "hantakudu" (murderer) instead of saying "andagadu" (handsome). Honestly, why wasn't learning one South Indian language compulsory in school? I believe it's a national tragedy. And shame.
So yes, I live in the Land of Loving Languages. So, all you passionate Kannadiga warriors, champions of the Marathi manoos, Tamizh thaai devotees – here's my suggestion: Inspire, don't require! Instead of unleashing the Slap Brigade, how about unleashing the "Adopt-a-Non-Local" initiative? Get your people to gently take a clueless outsider under their wing and teach them your language, word by glorious word. And guess what: No one will object! Why? Because it's ridiculously useful! Exhibit A: My dear departed father.
Fresh off the train from Assam to Gujarat in 1974 (he hadn't even heard of a dhokla before), his Hindi was Bollywood-basic, Gujarati non-existent. At his first Gujarati home visit, wanting sugar in tea, he requested "meethu." While "meethu" sounds like it means sugar, it actually means salt in Gujarati. The bewildered host, assuming salty tea was an Assamese delicacy, obliged. Not wanting to offend, dad drank. Decades later, we blamed this incident for his hypertension. Jokes aside, my point? Most long-term residents, like my dad, realize the immense benefit of the local lingo and want to learn. The burning question: Who's gonna teach them? The slapperatti?
Here's a still better suggestion for all you Bharatiya language lovers. March down to your state's tech startup district and inspire (please, no slaps) someone to build the next big thing: a hyper-local Duolingo rival! Storm your AI companies! Instead of forcing LLMs (Lots of Language Modes) down throats, demand they build actual LLMs (Large Language Models) in your language! Get tech to do the heavy lifting of preservation and promotion!
And the other thing you can actively do: sharpen your culture. Because, despite the Bangalore Pharmacy uncle's unintended effect, my aversion to Kannada has been chipped away gradually by you know what: Karnataka's music, art, culture and most importantly, cinema. Films like Thithi, Kantara, the sheer operatic madness of KGF... they make me wish for a Matrix-style instant Kannada download jack at the back of my head! Plug me in, Morpheus, I need to understand this awesomeness properly! And then came the Booker's nod to Banu Mushtaq's writing? I read one of her short stories in English and it wrecked me with its prose. Imagine its power in the original! That's the pull. Wherever you are in this glorious, noisy nation, if you want to promote your language and culture? Make your art irresistible. Make your language a magnet, not a mallet. Build a pull economy where people crave to learn, not a push economy where you shove it down reluctant mental throats.
So, as a tribute to the linguistic assortment I adore (and the many more I aspire to master before I abandon this mortal coil), here's a little… let's generously call it a poetic interlude… in my four beloved tongues:
नयी भाषा सीखो, नई दुनिया देखो। (Nayi bhasha seekho, nayi duniya dekho.)
શબ્દો એટલે પુલ છે, અંતરને જોડે. (Shabdo atle pul che, antar ne jode.)
शिकलेली भाषा आपल्याला जगात नेते. (Shikleli bhasha, aapalyala jagat nete.)
আৰু এটা ভাষা, নতুন বন্ধুৰ আশা। (Aaru eeta bhakha, notun bondhur aakha.)
For the linguistically challenged amongst us – a.k.a. most normal people – here's a translation:
Learn a new language, see a new world.
Words are bridges connecting hearts.
A learned tongue carries you into the world.
One more language, hope for new friends.
Build bridges with words, stop constructing walls with slaps. Onward, linguistic India! But with a cultural hug, not a slap.
Friday, July 18, 2025
Wednesday, January 1, 2025
Essay/tribute worth reading
Gentle and noble colossus: Remembering the exemplary patient that was Dr Manmohan Singh
Dr Singh never demanded attention but also never declined to undergo tests when prescribed. He was an epitome of courtesy, walking with the doctors to see them off
"On the balance of probabilities, let us go in for surgery." The economist in PM Manmohan Singh was never too far away, even on the cath lab table.
AFP
Dr K Srinath Reddy
Updated on:
28 Dec 2024, 2:50 am
5 min read
The passing of a long-serving former Prime Minister, celebrated also as an erudite finance minister who boldly untethered the Indian economy, has evoked a national mood of respectful remembrance.
While I too share that emotion as a grateful citizen, my memories are also greatly enriched by my association with Dr Manmohan Singh as the doctor who chaired his medical panel from 2004 to 2014. Those years gave me an opportunity to observe and admire the many qualities of head and heart that marked him for the greatness the whole world celebrated.
I first met Dr Singh when he was Finance Minister in Mr PV Narasimha Rao's government. While serving as a cardiologist at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS) in Delhi, I was also the officially appointed Personal Physician to Prime Minister Rao (PP to PM) during 1991-96.
The only personal interaction I had with Dr Singh during that period was when I went to invite him as the chief guest at an Indo-US cardiology conference I was organising. Apart from his pleasingly courteous demeanour during our meeting, his erudite and sagacious speech at the conference won my admiration and gratitude.
I was surprised when a request was communicated some years later to the Director of AIIMS, from the Prime Minister's office in 2004, asking for my services as Personal Physician to the newly sworn-in Prime Minister Dr Singh. Perhaps I should not have been surprised that he chose to repeat Mr Narasimha Rao's choice, because Dr Singh never wavered in his admiration for Mr Rao till the end of his life.
I told the Director that I could not accept that assignment, despite the high honour, since I was by then the Head of Cardiology at AIIMS. The combination of my clinical and administrative duties coupled with my research-related commitments would make it difficult for me to accompany the Prime Minister during his travels abroad and within India.
Instead, I recommended two highly competent and conscientious younger faculty members of the cardiology department at AIIMS to be personal physician and alternate physician. The Prime Minister's office went on to constitute a medical panel, chaired by me and having both personal physicians and Dr Nikhil Tandon (diabetes specialist at AIIMS) as members. We continued to officially assist with the healthcare needs of Dr Singh during the ten years of his premiership and unofficially thereafter.
Dr Singh was an exemplary patient. He readily accepted medical advice and followed instructions scrupulously, provided the rationale was clearly explained to him. He never demanded attention from doctors but also never declined to undergo tests when prescribed. He was an epitome of courtesy, walking with the doctors to see them off till their cars.
On one occasion, when the Director of AIIMS and I visited him at his home to check on a sutured cut, Dr Singh noticed that there was no table near Dr Venugopal for the latter to place the cup of tea that an attender had brought in. The Prime Minister walked to an adjoining room and brought back a small table which he placed in front of his guest. I was astounded at that gesture of attentive and courteous hospitality from a person holding India's most important political office.
A challenging time came for our medical team when Dr Singh experienced episodes of chest pain in January 2009, a week before the Republic Day. He had earlier undergone coronary bypass surgery (CABG), performed in a British hospital in 1990, while he was serving on the South Commission in Geneva. He later underwent a coronary angioplasty at a Delhi hospital in February 2004. He now needed an urgent evaluation by coronary angiography. Though the Republic Day was just a few days away, he agreed to undergo the procedure at AIIMS in Delhi on January 21.
The angiogram revealed several blocks, including those of the two stents placed in 2004. The team of attending doctors, which included cardiologists and surgeons from AIIMS and some other hospitals, was divided in opinion as to whether the preferred procedure was coronary angioplasty with multiple stents in different arteries or coronary bypass surgery with arterial grafts. The former offered less risk during the initial procedure but carried the hazard of stent thrombosis over time. The latter carried the risks of repeat surgery in an elderly person but held the promise of better long-term results with the assurance that the Prime Minister could attend to his duties with confidence that his heart would not let him down.
The comparative risks and benefits of both options were explained by me to Dr Singh even as he lay on the table in the cardiac catheterisation laboratory where the angiogram was performed. He took just about thirty seconds to process the information before calmly telling me: "On the balance of probabilities, let us go in for surgery". I was amazed at his clarity of thought and the speed of processing the risks associated with each procedure to estimate probabilities. Thus spake the brilliant economist is what I think whenever I recall that episode.
From coronary angiography to surgery, Dr Singh wanted all details of his medical condition to be openly and accurately shared with the media without any camouflaging of facts. I thought it was very unusual for a politician actively facing close scrutiny in public life.
He chose to be operated at AIIMS, with Dr Ramakant Panda performing the surgery. Dr Panda was a gifted cardiac surgeon, trained initially at AIIMS and then at the Cleveland Clinic. He was working in Mumbai but his expertise in re-do coronary surgery made him the preferred choice, especially as he usually employed arterial grafts for all blocks and performed his meticulous surgery on a beating heart without using a cardio-pulmonary bypass pump.
Dr Singh underwent an eight-hour surgery on January 24. When the media asked Dr Panda why the surgery took so long, he replied memorably "When I am saving a life, I do not look at the clock."
When journalists challenged me as to why a surgical team from Mumbai was brought in to operate on Dr Singh at AIIMS, I replied using an analogy from cricket's Indian Premier League (IPL) - "this is not a contest of Mumbai Indians versus Delhi Daredevils. It is Team India batting for the Prime Minister."
Conversations with Dr Singh always provided an education on various aspects of India's development and global affairs. An aside here. I always felt that he was a more effective communicator while conversing with a group of college students than as a public speaker at a mass political gathering.
He had a deep interest in improving health services and launched the National Rural Health Mission. He also initiated the constitution of a high-level expert group to develop a framework for universal health coverage.
Dr Singh was an able and noble leader, highly learned yet humble, firm in convictions but gentle in manner. A scholar-statesman beyond compare. In the words of Shakespeare, 'His life was gentle; and the elements so mixed in him, that Nature might stand up and say to all the world, THIS WAS A MAN!'
(Dr K Srinath Reddy is a Cardiologist, epidemiologist and Distinguished Professor of Public Health, Public Health Foundation of India.)
Dr Singh never demanded attention but also never declined to undergo tests when prescribed. He was an epitome of courtesy, walking with the doctors to see them off
"On the balance of probabilities, let us go in for surgery." The economist in PM Manmohan Singh was never too far away, even on the cath lab table.
AFP
Dr K Srinath Reddy
Updated on:
28 Dec 2024, 2:50 am
5 min read
The passing of a long-serving former Prime Minister, celebrated also as an erudite finance minister who boldly untethered the Indian economy, has evoked a national mood of respectful remembrance.
While I too share that emotion as a grateful citizen, my memories are also greatly enriched by my association with Dr Manmohan Singh as the doctor who chaired his medical panel from 2004 to 2014. Those years gave me an opportunity to observe and admire the many qualities of head and heart that marked him for the greatness the whole world celebrated.
I first met Dr Singh when he was Finance Minister in Mr PV Narasimha Rao's government. While serving as a cardiologist at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS) in Delhi, I was also the officially appointed Personal Physician to Prime Minister Rao (PP to PM) during 1991-96.
The only personal interaction I had with Dr Singh during that period was when I went to invite him as the chief guest at an Indo-US cardiology conference I was organising. Apart from his pleasingly courteous demeanour during our meeting, his erudite and sagacious speech at the conference won my admiration and gratitude.
I was surprised when a request was communicated some years later to the Director of AIIMS, from the Prime Minister's office in 2004, asking for my services as Personal Physician to the newly sworn-in Prime Minister Dr Singh. Perhaps I should not have been surprised that he chose to repeat Mr Narasimha Rao's choice, because Dr Singh never wavered in his admiration for Mr Rao till the end of his life.
I told the Director that I could not accept that assignment, despite the high honour, since I was by then the Head of Cardiology at AIIMS. The combination of my clinical and administrative duties coupled with my research-related commitments would make it difficult for me to accompany the Prime Minister during his travels abroad and within India.
Instead, I recommended two highly competent and conscientious younger faculty members of the cardiology department at AIIMS to be personal physician and alternate physician. The Prime Minister's office went on to constitute a medical panel, chaired by me and having both personal physicians and Dr Nikhil Tandon (diabetes specialist at AIIMS) as members. We continued to officially assist with the healthcare needs of Dr Singh during the ten years of his premiership and unofficially thereafter.
Dr Singh was an exemplary patient. He readily accepted medical advice and followed instructions scrupulously, provided the rationale was clearly explained to him. He never demanded attention from doctors but also never declined to undergo tests when prescribed. He was an epitome of courtesy, walking with the doctors to see them off till their cars.
On one occasion, when the Director of AIIMS and I visited him at his home to check on a sutured cut, Dr Singh noticed that there was no table near Dr Venugopal for the latter to place the cup of tea that an attender had brought in. The Prime Minister walked to an adjoining room and brought back a small table which he placed in front of his guest. I was astounded at that gesture of attentive and courteous hospitality from a person holding India's most important political office.
A challenging time came for our medical team when Dr Singh experienced episodes of chest pain in January 2009, a week before the Republic Day. He had earlier undergone coronary bypass surgery (CABG), performed in a British hospital in 1990, while he was serving on the South Commission in Geneva. He later underwent a coronary angioplasty at a Delhi hospital in February 2004. He now needed an urgent evaluation by coronary angiography. Though the Republic Day was just a few days away, he agreed to undergo the procedure at AIIMS in Delhi on January 21.
The angiogram revealed several blocks, including those of the two stents placed in 2004. The team of attending doctors, which included cardiologists and surgeons from AIIMS and some other hospitals, was divided in opinion as to whether the preferred procedure was coronary angioplasty with multiple stents in different arteries or coronary bypass surgery with arterial grafts. The former offered less risk during the initial procedure but carried the hazard of stent thrombosis over time. The latter carried the risks of repeat surgery in an elderly person but held the promise of better long-term results with the assurance that the Prime Minister could attend to his duties with confidence that his heart would not let him down.
The comparative risks and benefits of both options were explained by me to Dr Singh even as he lay on the table in the cardiac catheterisation laboratory where the angiogram was performed. He took just about thirty seconds to process the information before calmly telling me: "On the balance of probabilities, let us go in for surgery". I was amazed at his clarity of thought and the speed of processing the risks associated with each procedure to estimate probabilities. Thus spake the brilliant economist is what I think whenever I recall that episode.
From coronary angiography to surgery, Dr Singh wanted all details of his medical condition to be openly and accurately shared with the media without any camouflaging of facts. I thought it was very unusual for a politician actively facing close scrutiny in public life.
He chose to be operated at AIIMS, with Dr Ramakant Panda performing the surgery. Dr Panda was a gifted cardiac surgeon, trained initially at AIIMS and then at the Cleveland Clinic. He was working in Mumbai but his expertise in re-do coronary surgery made him the preferred choice, especially as he usually employed arterial grafts for all blocks and performed his meticulous surgery on a beating heart without using a cardio-pulmonary bypass pump.
Dr Singh underwent an eight-hour surgery on January 24. When the media asked Dr Panda why the surgery took so long, he replied memorably "When I am saving a life, I do not look at the clock."
When journalists challenged me as to why a surgical team from Mumbai was brought in to operate on Dr Singh at AIIMS, I replied using an analogy from cricket's Indian Premier League (IPL) - "this is not a contest of Mumbai Indians versus Delhi Daredevils. It is Team India batting for the Prime Minister."
Conversations with Dr Singh always provided an education on various aspects of India's development and global affairs. An aside here. I always felt that he was a more effective communicator while conversing with a group of college students than as a public speaker at a mass political gathering.
He had a deep interest in improving health services and launched the National Rural Health Mission. He also initiated the constitution of a high-level expert group to develop a framework for universal health coverage.
Dr Singh was an able and noble leader, highly learned yet humble, firm in convictions but gentle in manner. A scholar-statesman beyond compare. In the words of Shakespeare, 'His life was gentle; and the elements so mixed in him, that Nature might stand up and say to all the world, THIS WAS A MAN!'
(Dr K Srinath Reddy is a Cardiologist, epidemiologist and Distinguished Professor of Public Health, Public Health Foundation of India.)
Friday, April 5, 2024
Inspring doc
SINGAPORE – In his 50 years of medical service, cardiac surgeon Lee Chuen Neng, 72, has held thousands of hearts in his hands.
Having saved so many lives and mentored thousands of young doctors, the surgeon extraordinaire, fondly known as CN, has a special place in the hearts of many.
To appreciate his bold vision for the future of medicine and celebrate his push for new frontiers in medical discovery, the Yong Loo Lin School of Medicine at the National University of Singapore (NUS Medicine) launched a new professorship in his honour.
Called the CN Lee Professorship in Medical Sciences, it is the latest in a series of professorships initiated by NUS Medicine to recognise outstanding Singaporeans and train the next generation of leaders in medical sciences.
It promotes partnerships with experts from various disciplines to address issues such as cancer, tackle emerging healthcare challenges, and spur important discourse to improve the practice of healthcare in Singapore and abroad.
"We are trying not to do just incremental research of little consequence but something that will change the practice of medicine in a big way. To do that, we need to collaborate with other disciplines, such as bioengineering and pharmacology, in areas of diagnoses and therapeutics – something new that will be for the long term," Professor Lee told The Straits Times.
Prof Lee is the son of late politician Lee Khoon Choy, a member of the People's Action Party old guard. He is married to Emeritus Professor Aileen Wee, a liver cytology expert, and has three children and two grandchildren.
The CN Lee Professorship will be launched officially in the evening of April 5 at Fullerton Hotel Singapore.
Changing medicine in a big way is a reflection of Prof Lee, who does nothing by halves.
Dean of NUS Medicine Chong Yap Seng said Prof Lee "epitomises the essence of surgical excellence and is highly sought after by global health institutions".
"Beyond his mastery of surgery, CN's pioneering research has profoundly impacted patient welfare beyond his direct care. We hope that the recipient of this professorship will be inspired to also strive for the best and break new frontiers in medical sciences," Prof Chong said.
Prof Lee is the Abu Rauff Professor in Surgery at the Department of Surgery at NUS Medicine and Emeritus Consultant at the Department of Cardiac, Thoracic and Vascular Surgery, in the National University Heart Centre, Singapore (NUHCS).
The Abu Rauff Professorship in Surgery, named for Adjunct Professor Abu Rauff, one of Singapore's most respected surgeons and a leading academic in the field of surgery, was established in 2016 to mark NUS Medicine's 110th anniversary.
Prof Lee left for private practice in 1992 but returned to public service at NUS and the National University Hospital (NUH) at the end of 2001.
A leader and surgeon who founded the four sub-speciality divisions of adult cardiac, vascular, thoracic, and congenital heart surgery at NUS Medicine, NUH and the National University Health System (NUHS) in 1985, he established a foundation that paved the way for generations of surgeons in the field, said the university.
In his 10 years as Chair of Surgery at NUHS and Head of the Department of Surgery at NUS Medicine from 2005 to 2015, Prof Lee established the Advanced Surgery Training Centre, and developed 14 speciality surgery divisions, like transplant, gastrointestinal and reconstructive surgeries at NUH.
He also spearheaded a training and certification programme for cardiothoracic surgery in Singapore, jointly with the Hong Kong College of Surgeons and the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh.
For his contributions to education, Prof Lee received the International Medal of the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh in 2012 and the National Clinician Mentor Award in 2015 from the Ministry of Health (MOH).
Prof Lee is also Courtesy Professor in Engineering at the Department of Biomedical Engineering at NUS College of Design and Engineering (CDE), and Clinical Director of the Institute for Health Innovation and Technology (iHealthtech).
His thirst for innovation led him to start the NUS iHealthtech and the Engineering in Medicine platform at NUS CDE, where numerous bio-engineering programmes, start-ups and spin-offs were launched.
He also established an NUS Medicine programme which focuses on nano-diagnostics and nano-therapeutics, especially for common diseases with poor diagnostic tools and therapy. These include liver disease and Alzheimer's.
To his colleague and friend, Dr Lim Jui, who is the chief executive officer of SGInnovate, Prof Lee is "a visionary and tireless champion of innovation".
"He used to say, 'As doctors, all we have is one head, two hands, and 24 hours a day. The only way to break free of this limitation and to make an impact is through invention and innovation.' CN also inspired us with his kind, open, and curious mind. He belongs in the pantheon of greats in Singapore medical history," Dr Lim added.
Prof Lee said the professorship is "a recognition from the university, supported by my patients and friends and the medical school".
A respected nature photographer who has travelled the globe capturing everything from a group of Kyrgyz people fighting over a calf carcass on horseback to rambunctious walruses, he approaches his hobby with a similar thirst for curiosity and adventure.
And his adventures in the wild have resulted in a "bucketful of memory cards".
"Like most things in life, exploring beneath the surface allows us to see different layers and opens up fascinating features," he said.
The photos are a visual vehicle to impart some off-key life philosophies: to seek out happiness, be curious, take some risks, and learn from poetry, he added.
A leader and surgeon who founded the four sub-speciality divisions of adult cardiac, vascular, thoracic, and congenital heart surgery at NUS Medicine, NUH and the National University Health System (NUHS) in 1985, he established a foundation that paved the way for generations of surgeons in the field, said the university.
In his 10 years as Chair of Surgery at NUHS and Head of the Department of Surgery at NUS Medicine from 2005 to 2015, Prof Lee established the Advanced Surgery Training Centre, and developed 14 speciality surgery divisions, like transplant, gastrointestinal and reconstructive surgeries at NUH.
He also spearheaded a training and certification programme for cardiothoracic surgery in Singapore, jointly with the Hong Kong College of Surgeons and the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh.
"The secret to happiness is low expectations," he said.
"We aim high, work very hard towards that, but expect to fail. If we do fail, as it is often the case, it is expected. We stay happy."
He added: "As a heart surgeon, I have experienced many moments when life hung on a precarious cliff. "These moments I see often when travelling. We ought to treasure life and each precious moment."
And he has no plans to stop working.
"A wise man once said: 'Retire only when we reach the crematorium.' We should continue to contribute where we can.
"I shall continue to bring people together towards developing and innovating for the good of our future patien
"The secret to happiness is low expectations," he said.
"We aim high, work very hard towards that, but expect to fail. If we do fail, as it is often the case, it is expected. We stay happy."
He added: "As a heart surgeon, I have experienced many moments when life hung on a precarious cliff. "These moments I see often when travelling. We ought to treasure life and each precious moment."
And he has no plans to stop working.
"A wise man once said: 'Retire only when we reach the crematorium.' We should continue to contribute where we can.
"I shall continue to bring people together towards developing and innovating for the good of our future patients."
Having saved so many lives and mentored thousands of young doctors, the surgeon extraordinaire, fondly known as CN, has a special place in the hearts of many.
To appreciate his bold vision for the future of medicine and celebrate his push for new frontiers in medical discovery, the Yong Loo Lin School of Medicine at the National University of Singapore (NUS Medicine) launched a new professorship in his honour.
Called the CN Lee Professorship in Medical Sciences, it is the latest in a series of professorships initiated by NUS Medicine to recognise outstanding Singaporeans and train the next generation of leaders in medical sciences.
It promotes partnerships with experts from various disciplines to address issues such as cancer, tackle emerging healthcare challenges, and spur important discourse to improve the practice of healthcare in Singapore and abroad.
"We are trying not to do just incremental research of little consequence but something that will change the practice of medicine in a big way. To do that, we need to collaborate with other disciplines, such as bioengineering and pharmacology, in areas of diagnoses and therapeutics – something new that will be for the long term," Professor Lee told The Straits Times.
Prof Lee is the son of late politician Lee Khoon Choy, a member of the People's Action Party old guard. He is married to Emeritus Professor Aileen Wee, a liver cytology expert, and has three children and two grandchildren.
The CN Lee Professorship will be launched officially in the evening of April 5 at Fullerton Hotel Singapore.
Changing medicine in a big way is a reflection of Prof Lee, who does nothing by halves.
Dean of NUS Medicine Chong Yap Seng said Prof Lee "epitomises the essence of surgical excellence and is highly sought after by global health institutions".
"Beyond his mastery of surgery, CN's pioneering research has profoundly impacted patient welfare beyond his direct care. We hope that the recipient of this professorship will be inspired to also strive for the best and break new frontiers in medical sciences," Prof Chong said.
Prof Lee is the Abu Rauff Professor in Surgery at the Department of Surgery at NUS Medicine and Emeritus Consultant at the Department of Cardiac, Thoracic and Vascular Surgery, in the National University Heart Centre, Singapore (NUHCS).
The Abu Rauff Professorship in Surgery, named for Adjunct Professor Abu Rauff, one of Singapore's most respected surgeons and a leading academic in the field of surgery, was established in 2016 to mark NUS Medicine's 110th anniversary.
Prof Lee left for private practice in 1992 but returned to public service at NUS and the National University Hospital (NUH) at the end of 2001.
A leader and surgeon who founded the four sub-speciality divisions of adult cardiac, vascular, thoracic, and congenital heart surgery at NUS Medicine, NUH and the National University Health System (NUHS) in 1985, he established a foundation that paved the way for generations of surgeons in the field, said the university.
In his 10 years as Chair of Surgery at NUHS and Head of the Department of Surgery at NUS Medicine from 2005 to 2015, Prof Lee established the Advanced Surgery Training Centre, and developed 14 speciality surgery divisions, like transplant, gastrointestinal and reconstructive surgeries at NUH.
He also spearheaded a training and certification programme for cardiothoracic surgery in Singapore, jointly with the Hong Kong College of Surgeons and the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh.
For his contributions to education, Prof Lee received the International Medal of the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh in 2012 and the National Clinician Mentor Award in 2015 from the Ministry of Health (MOH).
Prof Lee is also Courtesy Professor in Engineering at the Department of Biomedical Engineering at NUS College of Design and Engineering (CDE), and Clinical Director of the Institute for Health Innovation and Technology (iHealthtech).
His thirst for innovation led him to start the NUS iHealthtech and the Engineering in Medicine platform at NUS CDE, where numerous bio-engineering programmes, start-ups and spin-offs were launched.
He also established an NUS Medicine programme which focuses on nano-diagnostics and nano-therapeutics, especially for common diseases with poor diagnostic tools and therapy. These include liver disease and Alzheimer's.
To his colleague and friend, Dr Lim Jui, who is the chief executive officer of SGInnovate, Prof Lee is "a visionary and tireless champion of innovation".
"He used to say, 'As doctors, all we have is one head, two hands, and 24 hours a day. The only way to break free of this limitation and to make an impact is through invention and innovation.' CN also inspired us with his kind, open, and curious mind. He belongs in the pantheon of greats in Singapore medical history," Dr Lim added.
Prof Lee said the professorship is "a recognition from the university, supported by my patients and friends and the medical school".
A respected nature photographer who has travelled the globe capturing everything from a group of Kyrgyz people fighting over a calf carcass on horseback to rambunctious walruses, he approaches his hobby with a similar thirst for curiosity and adventure.
And his adventures in the wild have resulted in a "bucketful of memory cards".
"Like most things in life, exploring beneath the surface allows us to see different layers and opens up fascinating features," he said.
The photos are a visual vehicle to impart some off-key life philosophies: to seek out happiness, be curious, take some risks, and learn from poetry, he added.
A leader and surgeon who founded the four sub-speciality divisions of adult cardiac, vascular, thoracic, and congenital heart surgery at NUS Medicine, NUH and the National University Health System (NUHS) in 1985, he established a foundation that paved the way for generations of surgeons in the field, said the university.
In his 10 years as Chair of Surgery at NUHS and Head of the Department of Surgery at NUS Medicine from 2005 to 2015, Prof Lee established the Advanced Surgery Training Centre, and developed 14 speciality surgery divisions, like transplant, gastrointestinal and reconstructive surgeries at NUH.
He also spearheaded a training and certification programme for cardiothoracic surgery in Singapore, jointly with the Hong Kong College of Surgeons and the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh.
"The secret to happiness is low expectations," he said.
"We aim high, work very hard towards that, but expect to fail. If we do fail, as it is often the case, it is expected. We stay happy."
He added: "As a heart surgeon, I have experienced many moments when life hung on a precarious cliff. "These moments I see often when travelling. We ought to treasure life and each precious moment."
And he has no plans to stop working.
"A wise man once said: 'Retire only when we reach the crematorium.' We should continue to contribute where we can.
"I shall continue to bring people together towards developing and innovating for the good of our future patien
"The secret to happiness is low expectations," he said.
"We aim high, work very hard towards that, but expect to fail. If we do fail, as it is often the case, it is expected. We stay happy."
He added: "As a heart surgeon, I have experienced many moments when life hung on a precarious cliff. "These moments I see often when travelling. We ought to treasure life and each precious moment."
And he has no plans to stop working.
"A wise man once said: 'Retire only when we reach the crematorium.' We should continue to contribute where we can.
"I shall continue to bring people together towards developing and innovating for the good of our future patients."
Sunday, February 11, 2024
Bhajan
Kaliyugadolu Harinaamva
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayQTuyYvZBU
Lyrics and Meaning
Kaliyugadali Hari Naamava
Kaliyugadali Hari Naamava
Composer: Śri Purandaradasa
Translated by
Sri Chakravarthi Madhusudana
Raaga: Jhinjhoti; Taala: Adi
pallavi
kaliyugadali hari n¡mava nenedare kulako¿iga©uddharisuvavo ra±ga
anupallavi
sulabhada mukutige sulabhanendenisiha jalaruhan¡bhana nene manave
chara³am
sn¡navanariyenu maunavanariyenu
dhy¡navanariyenu endenabe¢a
j¡nakivallabha da¾arathanandana
g¡navinodana nene manave 1
arcisalariyenu meccisalariyenu
tucchanu n§nendenabe¢a
acyut¡nanta govinda mukundana
iccheyinda n§ nene manave 2
japavondariyenu tapavondariyenu
upade¾avilla endenabe¢a
ap¡ramahima ¾r§ purandara vi¿halana
up¡yadinda n§ nene manave 3
Translation
In this kaliyuga, countless souls will be redeemed if they just remember the name of Hari
O Mind! Meditate upon the easily approachable Vishnu, to attain salvation with ease.
Do not say 'I do not know about ritual ablutions; I do not know the vow of silence; I know nothing about contemplation'.
Focus your mind on the darling of Jaanaki, the son of Dasharatha, the One who delights in music.
Do not plead 'I do not know how to worship; I do not know how to make You happy; I am a lowlife'.
Remember with elation: Achyuta, Ananta and Govinda, the provider of salvation.
Do not declare 'I do not know how to chant; I have no knowledge of penance; I lack good advice'. Think with smartness, about Purandara Vithala of limitless greatness.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayQTuyYvZBU
Lyrics and Meaning
Kaliyugadali Hari Naamava
Kaliyugadali Hari Naamava
Composer: Śri Purandaradasa
Translated by
Sri Chakravarthi Madhusudana
Raaga: Jhinjhoti; Taala: Adi
pallavi
kaliyugadali hari n¡mava nenedare kulako¿iga©uddharisuvavo ra±ga
anupallavi
sulabhada mukutige sulabhanendenisiha jalaruhan¡bhana nene manave
chara³am
sn¡navanariyenu maunavanariyenu
dhy¡navanariyenu endenabe¢a
j¡nakivallabha da¾arathanandana
g¡navinodana nene manave 1
arcisalariyenu meccisalariyenu
tucchanu n§nendenabe¢a
acyut¡nanta govinda mukundana
iccheyinda n§ nene manave 2
japavondariyenu tapavondariyenu
upade¾avilla endenabe¢a
ap¡ramahima ¾r§ purandara vi¿halana
up¡yadinda n§ nene manave 3
Translation
In this kaliyuga, countless souls will be redeemed if they just remember the name of Hari
O Mind! Meditate upon the easily approachable Vishnu, to attain salvation with ease.
Do not say 'I do not know about ritual ablutions; I do not know the vow of silence; I know nothing about contemplation'.
Focus your mind on the darling of Jaanaki, the son of Dasharatha, the One who delights in music.
Do not plead 'I do not know how to worship; I do not know how to make You happy; I am a lowlife'.
Remember with elation: Achyuta, Ananta and Govinda, the provider of salvation.
Do not declare 'I do not know how to chant; I have no knowledge of penance; I lack good advice'. Think with smartness, about Purandara Vithala of limitless greatness.
Friday, January 5, 2024
Awe-inspiring
https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/chemistry/2016/feringa/biographical/
Bernard L. Feringa
Biographical
Bernard L. FeringaIt is a great privilege to be able to stand on the shoulders of the giants of chemistry and in doing so experience the marvels of the molecular world and provide "challenges for our youth, dreams for the people, and opportunities for industry." For me being a scientist engaged in designing new molecules and chemical systems is a life-long "adventure into the unknown," entering an uncharted territory of astonishing beauty, surprises and amazing perspectives. Over the past decades on many occasions we have lost track on our intended journeys, reaching places in chemical space we could never have imagined. On these occasions, one of my heroes, Abel Tasman, comes to mind. Several hundred years ago, Tasman, an adventurer, departed from a small village close to where we live, sailed in a primitive wooden ship to the edge of the known world, lost his bearings and as a consequence made the serendipitous discovery of what we now call Tasmania and New Zealand. From the outset of my academic studies as a young adult I ventured on an unexpected odyssey into chiral space, however my fascination for the unknown, for "exploring beyond the border," began in my childhood.
The early days
In 1866, my grandfather, then 3 years old, moved with his family, poor Roman Catholic buckwheat farmers from Emsland, a few miles across the German-Dutch border, to settle in the great Bourtanger moor; a vast, largely uninhabited and remote area in the northeastern part of the Netherlands. The two main reasons for these "Siedler" to build a living in this desolate area were a lack of fertile soil and the threat of conscription into the Prussian army. It was in that same year that the Kingdom of Hanover was dissolved. They were among the founding families of the village of Barger-Compascuum. Starting in primitive turf houses, they slowly established themselves by farming and digging peat. The rather harsh living conditions imbued the family with a strong work ethic, being independent and self-supportive and with a strong desire for knowledge, which we also experienced in our childhood. My father Geert Feringa, who was the youngest of the family of ten, ran the farm while being involved in village community organizations including the local bank, school and church councils. The family of my mother Elizabeth Hake has a similar background, also originating from the border region. Facing poverty, the whole family of her ancestors decided to emigrate to the USA in the 1800s except for the youngest son, who became the first headmaster of the elementary school in Hebelemeer, a German village close to where we lived. Her parents also moved across the border, reclaiming land, and my mother grew up at their farm as the eldest of a family of ten.
The farmhouse of my grandparents around 1900
Figure 1. The farmhouse of my grandparents around 1900, the farm I was raised and my parents.
My parents married in 1949 and I was born in 1951 as the second of ten children. I cannot remember that I ever left the village during my early youth; most of the first 10 years I spent within 800 meters of the border (except while attending school). The farm and the vast wilderness just behind our fields being my world and that of my brothers and sisters as well as the dozens of nephews and nieces that formed our community. This playground definitively stimulated my imagination, sense of teamwork and desire to explore. Crossing the border behind our farm was always a hard-to-resist adventure and the wilderness on the other side provided many unexpected engagements and findings. Our family was largely self-supporting with animals for milk, eggs and meat, peat for heating, a water well, and a large garden for vegetables and fruit, the latter being my mother's pride and joy. There were no luxuries but we were comfortable and to this day, I am amazed at how she managed to feed all ten of us with an abundance of healthy food even throughout the winter. From an early age, each of us had our own tasks, and as I grew, I tended the chickens, helped in the garden and later would cut peat for the stove. Observing the behavior of animals, growing three-meter-tall sunflowers and questioning the origin of peat without doubt stimulated greatly my inexorable desire for knowledge.
Basic and high school education
I am extremely grateful to my elementary school teachers, who provided us with a solid primary education. My life long appreciation of history and geography started with their accounts while covering these topics, which was further stimulated by the fascinating stories told by my father and uncles during long-winter evening gatherings at the farm. Being asked frequently why "playing with molecules is so much fun," the proper answer is perhaps that I am striving to fill the gap in my early education left by fact that I did not attend a kindergarten. Both of my parents had little more than elementary school education but they were nevertheless top of their classes and on the occasions that I failed to deliver the proper answer to the headmaster, he would remind me that my mother would have known the answer. Our parents were certainly role models for learning and encouraged us to seize opportunities absent to them in a remote farmer's community in the pre-war period. It may be hard to imagine today but we should remember that there were no TVs, PCs or smartphones; but there were certainly books at home or in the local church library that we could reach for in our search for knowledge.
The next step in my education was to attend the Katholiek Drents College, a secondary education called the HBS, which was held in high esteem in the Netherlands. I had the good fortune to attend a rather small school with a team of excellent academically trained young teachers covering a wide range of topics. Confronted with biology, mathematics, physics, and chemistry, a new world opened for me fueling my thirst to know how and why. I remember vividly that most of our teachers could address topics beyond the textbook and put the material we had to learn in a broader context.
The Family in the 1970s.
Figure 2. The Family in the 1970s.
Our chemistry teacher, Op de Weegh, was an exceptional inspiration, always eager to challenge us. In the later part of my high school education, when the next step in academic education was approaching, he was particularly influential in my decision to do chemistry. Although mathematics was my most successful subject, the fact that in chemistry you could experience color, odor or beautiful crystals and see practicality ranging from fertilizer to drugs were decisive factors. At a recent reunion of my high school, talking to my chemistry teacher reminded me of one of his sayings: "I wish every child in his or her life at least one excellent teacher." I had the good fortune to have several! Cycling 15 km every day to school with my friends – there was no public transport – also gave room for intense debates, sharpening our minds. This was also the time that I started to play for the local soccer team, and although I was a player of modest talent, and digressed for a few years playing handball, I have enjoyed playing soccer for a long period extending well into my academic career. Perhaps the best gift of my high school education was that I learned to appreciate many disciplines.
A perhaps unexpected influence during my late high school and early university studies, that wild period of the student revolts and social upheaval, were the endless discussions at home among my brothers and sisters. Our Sunday debates on topics ranging from world politics to inventions, religion, and human behavior are still vividly remembered by all of us. Let me not conclude describing this period without mentioning perhaps the single most influential person. I always bore the desire to become a farmer but had the good sense to follow my father's wise advice to study first and only later, perhaps, reconsider my options.
Me with my chemistry teacher G. Op de Weegh at a recent reunion of our high school.
Figure 3. Me with my chemistry teacher G. Op de Weegh at a recent reunion of our high school.
As a consequence, I spent most of the long summer holidays during high school and university working alongside my father on the farm. He shared with me the fascination and admiration for the natural world, the wonder of ears of wheat growing from a tiny seed, the beautiful colors of the flowers in the fields, and cows giving birth to their offspring. Such wonder alleviated the muscle ache that followed the solid day's work and while we were puzzled by the shape of clouds or the flow of water, and as we struggled with the nature of gravity, it invariably guided us back to our work with the soil.
University education
I entered the University of Groningen as a major in chemistry in 1969 and I quickly learned to appreciate the academic environment, the various aspects of student life and the many hours of demanding courses and lab work. Two factors I consider of major importance for this period of my undergraduate education. First, we were the first cohort of students to work in our then brand-new laboratories; we take pride in being a part of that community. Second, several of our professors were either US citizens or trained in the USA and they challenged us – we felt their sense of expectation. They had modelled the chemistry department after top US institutes and their rather unique spirit did not go unnoticed. My real love for synthetic chemistry started in my third year when I had my first opportunity to work on a short research topic. I hold fondly the memory of the exhilaration that I felt making my first new compound – a compound never prepared anywhere in the world. My next experience of research was a period in the inorganic department, where I learned to handle the most air and moisture sensitive early transition organometallic reagents, in particular organotitanium compounds. Every time I see a nice painted wall the vivid memory of a leaking seal of the Schlenk flask, with oxygen slowly creeping in, springs to mind.
My decision to carry out my Masters research, I think, says a lot about my character then. I had declined a project proposal from a chemistry professor who had indicated that prior to working on that topic I should do a lot of routine measurements, as "the problem was too difficult for me." I was eager to be challenged and was fortunate that another professor, Hans Wijnberg, struck the right cord by providing a topic that had no prior art whatsoever. Asymmetric coupling of phenols; how to couple two radicals generating axial chirality, as in BINOL? I started exploring Fe-analogs of chiral camphor-based -diketonate ligands, reported in 1974 by George Whitesides for his chiral europium NMR shift reagents. Although during my Masters research I failed to accomplish the asymmetric coupling of 2-naphthol, it was rewarding that ultimately during my PhD studies I was able to realize BINOL formation with 16% optical purity using a chiral copper amine complex as oxidant. These were the years that I became fascinated by stereochemistry, not least by the excitement that arose in the field as a result of many amazing discoveries in asymmetric catalysis. The general interest in the group on fundamental aspects of stereochemistry ranging from ORD and CD spectroscopy, absolute configuration and absolute asymmetric synthesis to enantiomers lacking optical activity and the pioneering work on asymmetric organocatalysis using cinchona alkaloids was a fertile learning environment. It was also important that numerous prominent (stereo-) chemists – among them Sharpless, Eliel, Barton, Turro and Kagan – visited Groningen during that period and we were strongly encouraged to discuss with these great scientists. I continued my PhD studies in the Wijnberg group and discovered among others small differences in selectivity between a racemic mixture and pure enantiomers in stoichiometric reactions. We named this phenomenon the antipodal effect and, although our initial submission met with disbelief from the referees, ultimately our work was published. Much to our delight, 10 years later, Henri Kagan demonstrated that related phenomena occur in catalytic reactions and formed the basis for the now widely accepted non-linear effects.
My mentor and PhD supervisor Professor Hans Wijnberg.
Figure 4. My mentor and PhD supervisor Professor Hans Wijnberg.
Perhaps the most decisive moment in regard to my later career was the design of chiral overcrowded alkenes that did not bear a stereogenic center but for which both the cis and trans stereoisomers consisted of enantiomeric pairs. The idea was rather simple; if a biaryl can be chiral due to hindered rotation around a single bond, the question arose "can an olefin form a stable homochiral compound exclusively due to torsion around the double bond"? Taking advantage of then newly discovered McMurry coupling of ketones, the chiral overcrowded alkenes were indeed prepared and reported in JACS 1976. How could I have realized at that moment that this discovery would later form the basis for our chiroptical molecular switches and our unidirectional rotary motors. In retrospect, the PhD period provided me with the essential atmosphere for discovery in which we were encouraged to question conventions and break paradigms. My fellow students, in particular Bert (EW) Meijer, Kees Hummelen and Henk Hiemstra, who have each made prominent academic careers over the past decades, greatly added to the stimulating and challenging atmosphere in the group. The summer of 1977 was another highly important period in my career, when I was dispatched to the US to attend the Organic Symposium in Morgantown, WA. Hans Wijnberg introduced me to many distinguished chemists but I was most impressed by the superb 2 h 20 min (a rather short lecture I was informed) evening lecture by the great Prof. R. B. Woodward. As my mentor had also arranged for me to make a short lecture tour, I had the privilege to give presentations about my PhD work at Penn State and Cornell among others and Princeton where I also had the opportunity to discuss stereochemistry with my hero Kurt Mislow. After my American journey, I was convinced that my next step was postdoctoral research in the US. But as is so often the case in life our journeys can take unexpected detours.
The Shell period
In the months writing up my thesis work I realized that national service, then compulsory in the Netherlands, would inevitably quench any dreams of a postdoctoral adventure. By good fortune, I was offered a position at the Royal Dutch Shell Research Laboratories (KSLA) in Amsterdam that, because of my expertise in stereochemistry, exempted me from active military service and provided the next best thing to a Postdoc period in the US; as a young academic, I was entering a highly prestigious corporate research institute, comparable to Bell Labs or DuPont central research, with a worldwide reputation in catalysis. Indeed, I experienced an amazing exposure to both fundamental and applied catalysis research during my 6.5 years at Shell. Most of my own research focused then on catalytic oxidations and novel ligand and catalyst design. In my first months, I shared an office with David Reinhoudt, who introduced me to the then rapidly emerging field of supramolecular chemistry. Although I was working on fundamental problems in catalysis, for instance photo-redox catalysis, I strongly benefitted from the interaction with process chemists also. The exposure to numerous industrially relevant projects provided me with important insights that have helped to shape my future collaborative research projects, as well as in teaching our students, the majority of whom would enter industrial careers. Definitively, my later projects on asymmetric catalysis and phosphoramidites with DSM, catalytic oxidations with Unilever and liquid crystals with Philips over the past decades, were partly rooted in my industrial research period at Shell.
Apart from the KSLA period, I spent nearly 1.5 years at Shell Biosciences center in Sittingbourne, Kent, UK, working on herbicides. This period was equally fascinating, discussing with biochemists and plant physiologists among others. Immersion in total synthesis and chemical biology further stimulated my admiration for the power of synthetic chemistry to create and the unlimited opportunities presented by molecular design. Equally stimulating were regular meetings with Sir John Cornforth and members the British chemical community. Following my return to Shell Amsterdam and the catalysis group of Piet van Leeuwen, I realized that reading the latest discoveries in the prime chemistry journals still inspired me more than delving into industrial problems. When I was approached in 1984 by my Alma Mater to consider a junior faculty position in the chemistry department, theere was no hesitation. The fact that in that year I had married my wife Betty, who then lived in Groningen and was employed by the University Medical Center there, made the decision even easier.
University of Groningen
My research program over subsequent years was based firmly in synthetic organic and physical organic chemistry. Although it developed along two main lines, catalysis and molecular switches, stereochemistry remained the overarching theme. Exploring chiral space regularly provided fascinating surprises, be it a novel method to determine enantiomer excess without an external source of chirality, chiral amplification through sublimation, or DNA-based asymmetric catalysis (together with Gerard Roelfes).
Catalytic oxidation is key to many of the world's most important industrial processes, and confronted with the challenge to design selective oxidation processes we focused on anti-Markovnikov Wacker oxidation and non-heme iron and manganese based catalytic systems. As part of these programs I enjoyed superb cooperation with Larry Que (Univ. Minnesota), Ronald Hage (Unilever/Catexel) and Wesley Browne (Univ. Groningen) over many years. Building my research team in the late 80s, I became intrigued by the lack of a highly enantioselective method for conjugate addition of organometallic (alkyl-zinc and copper) reagents. The introduction of chiral phosphoramidites as a novel privileged class of chiral ligands in asymmetric catalysis resulted ultimately (in 1996) in the 1,4-addition of organozinc reagents with synthetically useful enantioselectivities. From this period on, I had the privilege to work together on highly successful projects with my close colleagues Adri Minnaard and Suzy Harutyunyan, focusing on challenging total syntheses and equally challenging problems in asymmetric catalysis. It took another 8 years before we succeeded in taming Grignard reagents for similar conjugate additions and allylic substitutions; the key was to go deep and understand at a mechanistic level both the catalyst and the reaction as a whole. Spurred on by this success, finally, after 20 years of effort, we were able to achieve catalytic asymmetric C-C bond formation with the notoriously reactive organolithum reagents. Controlling aggregation behavior and applying well defined copper complexes provided the long-awaited solution. This was the stepping stone for our current program on ultrafast organolithium cross coupling.
I was appointed as full professor in 1987, succeeding my scientific father Hans Wijnberg in 1988, and gave my inaugural public lecture at the University of Groningen (the academic oratie is a fine Dutch tradition) in 1989 entitled "Order and Dynamics in Synthesis." The discussion on that occasion among others centered on "intelligent molecules"; I pondered on how far we could go in building functional molecules that were designed to perform specific tasks, ultimately creating tiny molecular robots.
Betty and our three daughters at younger age.
Figure 5. Betty and our three daughters at younger age.
This event was the starting point for over 25 years of work on molecular switches and motors. The basic idea was to design molecular information storage materials taking advantage of the dormant overcrowded alkene switches from my PhD period. The excellent switching properties (photo-bistability) and inherent chirality (for non-destructive read-out) were decisive factors that enabled the birth of an entire class of chiroptical molecular switches. The merging of synthesis with mechanistic studies, photochemistry, materials chemistry and spectroscopy, in close cooperation with Wesley Browne, attracted students with distinct training and expertise who beyond doubt were highly influential in our discussions and approaches taken during the next two decades. An important collaboration on the absolute configuration of chiral overcrowded alkenes was started with Noboyuki Harada in Sendai. We extended our program on photoswitches to control biosystems such as MsCl protein channels and SecY protein transporters (with biochemist Armagan Kocer and molecular microbiologist Arnold Driessen, respectively). As our research slowly evolved from molecules into dynamic molecular systems we worked on control of organization along different length scales, i.e. gels, polymers and liquid crystals. The studies on chiroptical switches culminated in the discovery of our light-driven unidirectional rotary motor, reported in 1999. This was also the starting point for the design of several generations of motors, surface anchored rotary motors and motorbased liquid crystals (in cooperation with Dick Broer, then at Philips Research). Being a member of both the Stratingh Institute for Chemistry and the Zernike Institute for Advanced Materials at the University of Groningen was a major advantage, providing access to a wide range of facilities (in particular for surface characterization) and highly beneficial to my students working on these multifaceted problems. The Spinoza grant was the immediate reason for the design of a four-wheel drive molecular car tackling the fundamental challenge of how to convert rotary molecular motion into translational motion across a surface. After 7 years we succeeded, in close cooperation with Kalle Ernst at EMPA, Zurich. These were fascinating years for my "motor team" as we designed single motors that could move in both directions, motors powered by visible light, multitasking chiral catalyst and self-assembled nanostructures based on rotary motors among others. In hindsight, probably the most memorable event in all these years was the direct observation by the naked eye of a micro-object rotating, while floating on a soft liquid crystal surface, by a light-driven motor.
I had the pleasure to spend a major part of my life at the University of Groningen's Chemistry Department with fine colleagues and an open border-free atmosphere encouraging students to cooperate and staff to discuss and work together. I enjoyed working with my group on diverse chemical problems stimulating creativity and cooperation with ample opportunities to learn and explore beyond our comfort zone. It was indeed a privilege to join my highly talented students on a fascinating journey into the largely uncharted territory of molecular motors and machines.
The Feringa group at a sports event during the yearly Workweek in the 90s.
Figure 6. The Feringa group at a sports event during the yearly Workweek in the 90s.
The long tradition of spending a week each year with my whole group abroad, visiting industry and another university or research institute, is highly valued. This "workweek" with student-organized lectures ranging from industrial innovation, ethics, chemical warfare to molecular cooking, joint symposia and sports and pub events greatly stimulated a fine team spirit.
Betty, our daughters Femke, Hannah and Emma and son in law Jorrit at a recent ceremony when I received a Royal decoration.
Figure 7. Betty, our daughters Femke, Hannah and Emma and son in law Jorrit at a recent ceremony when I received a Royal decoration.
Shortly after my appointment in Groningen, Betty and I decided to move to the village of Paterswolde just south of Groningen, giving us both the chance to enjoy a decent daily cycle to and from our respective workplaces. "Moving in Flatland" in the northern Netherlands of course gives plenty of time each day to think about the three-dimensional puzzles that we were facing in the lab. Just as memorable have been the annual BBQ's in our garden when the whole group gathers together (often during European and World Cup Soccer events) and the many PhD graduations, for which we have the tradition of making a movie about the candidates' time to ensure that their many unexpected talents in and out of the lab are remembered.
My current research group.
Figure 7. My current research group.
I enjoy long-distance skating, and as a farmer's son it is a delight to have our own piece of land with a meadow, horse and vegetable garden which allows me not only to exercise in the weekends but never lose contact with nature. Our three daughters shared the enthusiasm for learning and sports. Femke, a cell biologist, is in the final year of her PhD studies at the Netherlands Cancer Institute (NKI), Hannah just started a PhD in the area of food allergies at the Utrecht University Medical Center and Emma is a Masters student in movement sciences at the Free University of Amsterdam. The week of skiing in the Swiss Alps every winter and the sailing events on the Frisian lakes each summer provide ample opportunity for challenges beyond chemistry and are very precious moments with Betty and the children. I am extremely happy to have experienced great support during my entire career from my family and that they tolerate me being distracted by "crazy molecules" at unexpected moments. Betty always reminds us of my passion: "Being a scientist is a way of life." I could not agree more, and I am grateful that she was and is always alongside me on our journey.
Bernard L. Feringa
Biographical
Bernard L. FeringaIt is a great privilege to be able to stand on the shoulders of the giants of chemistry and in doing so experience the marvels of the molecular world and provide "challenges for our youth, dreams for the people, and opportunities for industry." For me being a scientist engaged in designing new molecules and chemical systems is a life-long "adventure into the unknown," entering an uncharted territory of astonishing beauty, surprises and amazing perspectives. Over the past decades on many occasions we have lost track on our intended journeys, reaching places in chemical space we could never have imagined. On these occasions, one of my heroes, Abel Tasman, comes to mind. Several hundred years ago, Tasman, an adventurer, departed from a small village close to where we live, sailed in a primitive wooden ship to the edge of the known world, lost his bearings and as a consequence made the serendipitous discovery of what we now call Tasmania and New Zealand. From the outset of my academic studies as a young adult I ventured on an unexpected odyssey into chiral space, however my fascination for the unknown, for "exploring beyond the border," began in my childhood.
The early days
In 1866, my grandfather, then 3 years old, moved with his family, poor Roman Catholic buckwheat farmers from Emsland, a few miles across the German-Dutch border, to settle in the great Bourtanger moor; a vast, largely uninhabited and remote area in the northeastern part of the Netherlands. The two main reasons for these "Siedler" to build a living in this desolate area were a lack of fertile soil and the threat of conscription into the Prussian army. It was in that same year that the Kingdom of Hanover was dissolved. They were among the founding families of the village of Barger-Compascuum. Starting in primitive turf houses, they slowly established themselves by farming and digging peat. The rather harsh living conditions imbued the family with a strong work ethic, being independent and self-supportive and with a strong desire for knowledge, which we also experienced in our childhood. My father Geert Feringa, who was the youngest of the family of ten, ran the farm while being involved in village community organizations including the local bank, school and church councils. The family of my mother Elizabeth Hake has a similar background, also originating from the border region. Facing poverty, the whole family of her ancestors decided to emigrate to the USA in the 1800s except for the youngest son, who became the first headmaster of the elementary school in Hebelemeer, a German village close to where we lived. Her parents also moved across the border, reclaiming land, and my mother grew up at their farm as the eldest of a family of ten.
The farmhouse of my grandparents around 1900
Figure 1. The farmhouse of my grandparents around 1900, the farm I was raised and my parents.
My parents married in 1949 and I was born in 1951 as the second of ten children. I cannot remember that I ever left the village during my early youth; most of the first 10 years I spent within 800 meters of the border (except while attending school). The farm and the vast wilderness just behind our fields being my world and that of my brothers and sisters as well as the dozens of nephews and nieces that formed our community. This playground definitively stimulated my imagination, sense of teamwork and desire to explore. Crossing the border behind our farm was always a hard-to-resist adventure and the wilderness on the other side provided many unexpected engagements and findings. Our family was largely self-supporting with animals for milk, eggs and meat, peat for heating, a water well, and a large garden for vegetables and fruit, the latter being my mother's pride and joy. There were no luxuries but we were comfortable and to this day, I am amazed at how she managed to feed all ten of us with an abundance of healthy food even throughout the winter. From an early age, each of us had our own tasks, and as I grew, I tended the chickens, helped in the garden and later would cut peat for the stove. Observing the behavior of animals, growing three-meter-tall sunflowers and questioning the origin of peat without doubt stimulated greatly my inexorable desire for knowledge.
Basic and high school education
I am extremely grateful to my elementary school teachers, who provided us with a solid primary education. My life long appreciation of history and geography started with their accounts while covering these topics, which was further stimulated by the fascinating stories told by my father and uncles during long-winter evening gatherings at the farm. Being asked frequently why "playing with molecules is so much fun," the proper answer is perhaps that I am striving to fill the gap in my early education left by fact that I did not attend a kindergarten. Both of my parents had little more than elementary school education but they were nevertheless top of their classes and on the occasions that I failed to deliver the proper answer to the headmaster, he would remind me that my mother would have known the answer. Our parents were certainly role models for learning and encouraged us to seize opportunities absent to them in a remote farmer's community in the pre-war period. It may be hard to imagine today but we should remember that there were no TVs, PCs or smartphones; but there were certainly books at home or in the local church library that we could reach for in our search for knowledge.
The next step in my education was to attend the Katholiek Drents College, a secondary education called the HBS, which was held in high esteem in the Netherlands. I had the good fortune to attend a rather small school with a team of excellent academically trained young teachers covering a wide range of topics. Confronted with biology, mathematics, physics, and chemistry, a new world opened for me fueling my thirst to know how and why. I remember vividly that most of our teachers could address topics beyond the textbook and put the material we had to learn in a broader context.
The Family in the 1970s.
Figure 2. The Family in the 1970s.
Our chemistry teacher, Op de Weegh, was an exceptional inspiration, always eager to challenge us. In the later part of my high school education, when the next step in academic education was approaching, he was particularly influential in my decision to do chemistry. Although mathematics was my most successful subject, the fact that in chemistry you could experience color, odor or beautiful crystals and see practicality ranging from fertilizer to drugs were decisive factors. At a recent reunion of my high school, talking to my chemistry teacher reminded me of one of his sayings: "I wish every child in his or her life at least one excellent teacher." I had the good fortune to have several! Cycling 15 km every day to school with my friends – there was no public transport – also gave room for intense debates, sharpening our minds. This was also the time that I started to play for the local soccer team, and although I was a player of modest talent, and digressed for a few years playing handball, I have enjoyed playing soccer for a long period extending well into my academic career. Perhaps the best gift of my high school education was that I learned to appreciate many disciplines.
A perhaps unexpected influence during my late high school and early university studies, that wild period of the student revolts and social upheaval, were the endless discussions at home among my brothers and sisters. Our Sunday debates on topics ranging from world politics to inventions, religion, and human behavior are still vividly remembered by all of us. Let me not conclude describing this period without mentioning perhaps the single most influential person. I always bore the desire to become a farmer but had the good sense to follow my father's wise advice to study first and only later, perhaps, reconsider my options.
Me with my chemistry teacher G. Op de Weegh at a recent reunion of our high school.
Figure 3. Me with my chemistry teacher G. Op de Weegh at a recent reunion of our high school.
As a consequence, I spent most of the long summer holidays during high school and university working alongside my father on the farm. He shared with me the fascination and admiration for the natural world, the wonder of ears of wheat growing from a tiny seed, the beautiful colors of the flowers in the fields, and cows giving birth to their offspring. Such wonder alleviated the muscle ache that followed the solid day's work and while we were puzzled by the shape of clouds or the flow of water, and as we struggled with the nature of gravity, it invariably guided us back to our work with the soil.
University education
I entered the University of Groningen as a major in chemistry in 1969 and I quickly learned to appreciate the academic environment, the various aspects of student life and the many hours of demanding courses and lab work. Two factors I consider of major importance for this period of my undergraduate education. First, we were the first cohort of students to work in our then brand-new laboratories; we take pride in being a part of that community. Second, several of our professors were either US citizens or trained in the USA and they challenged us – we felt their sense of expectation. They had modelled the chemistry department after top US institutes and their rather unique spirit did not go unnoticed. My real love for synthetic chemistry started in my third year when I had my first opportunity to work on a short research topic. I hold fondly the memory of the exhilaration that I felt making my first new compound – a compound never prepared anywhere in the world. My next experience of research was a period in the inorganic department, where I learned to handle the most air and moisture sensitive early transition organometallic reagents, in particular organotitanium compounds. Every time I see a nice painted wall the vivid memory of a leaking seal of the Schlenk flask, with oxygen slowly creeping in, springs to mind.
My decision to carry out my Masters research, I think, says a lot about my character then. I had declined a project proposal from a chemistry professor who had indicated that prior to working on that topic I should do a lot of routine measurements, as "the problem was too difficult for me." I was eager to be challenged and was fortunate that another professor, Hans Wijnberg, struck the right cord by providing a topic that had no prior art whatsoever. Asymmetric coupling of phenols; how to couple two radicals generating axial chirality, as in BINOL? I started exploring Fe-analogs of chiral camphor-based -diketonate ligands, reported in 1974 by George Whitesides for his chiral europium NMR shift reagents. Although during my Masters research I failed to accomplish the asymmetric coupling of 2-naphthol, it was rewarding that ultimately during my PhD studies I was able to realize BINOL formation with 16% optical purity using a chiral copper amine complex as oxidant. These were the years that I became fascinated by stereochemistry, not least by the excitement that arose in the field as a result of many amazing discoveries in asymmetric catalysis. The general interest in the group on fundamental aspects of stereochemistry ranging from ORD and CD spectroscopy, absolute configuration and absolute asymmetric synthesis to enantiomers lacking optical activity and the pioneering work on asymmetric organocatalysis using cinchona alkaloids was a fertile learning environment. It was also important that numerous prominent (stereo-) chemists – among them Sharpless, Eliel, Barton, Turro and Kagan – visited Groningen during that period and we were strongly encouraged to discuss with these great scientists. I continued my PhD studies in the Wijnberg group and discovered among others small differences in selectivity between a racemic mixture and pure enantiomers in stoichiometric reactions. We named this phenomenon the antipodal effect and, although our initial submission met with disbelief from the referees, ultimately our work was published. Much to our delight, 10 years later, Henri Kagan demonstrated that related phenomena occur in catalytic reactions and formed the basis for the now widely accepted non-linear effects.
My mentor and PhD supervisor Professor Hans Wijnberg.
Figure 4. My mentor and PhD supervisor Professor Hans Wijnberg.
Perhaps the most decisive moment in regard to my later career was the design of chiral overcrowded alkenes that did not bear a stereogenic center but for which both the cis and trans stereoisomers consisted of enantiomeric pairs. The idea was rather simple; if a biaryl can be chiral due to hindered rotation around a single bond, the question arose "can an olefin form a stable homochiral compound exclusively due to torsion around the double bond"? Taking advantage of then newly discovered McMurry coupling of ketones, the chiral overcrowded alkenes were indeed prepared and reported in JACS 1976. How could I have realized at that moment that this discovery would later form the basis for our chiroptical molecular switches and our unidirectional rotary motors. In retrospect, the PhD period provided me with the essential atmosphere for discovery in which we were encouraged to question conventions and break paradigms. My fellow students, in particular Bert (EW) Meijer, Kees Hummelen and Henk Hiemstra, who have each made prominent academic careers over the past decades, greatly added to the stimulating and challenging atmosphere in the group. The summer of 1977 was another highly important period in my career, when I was dispatched to the US to attend the Organic Symposium in Morgantown, WA. Hans Wijnberg introduced me to many distinguished chemists but I was most impressed by the superb 2 h 20 min (a rather short lecture I was informed) evening lecture by the great Prof. R. B. Woodward. As my mentor had also arranged for me to make a short lecture tour, I had the privilege to give presentations about my PhD work at Penn State and Cornell among others and Princeton where I also had the opportunity to discuss stereochemistry with my hero Kurt Mislow. After my American journey, I was convinced that my next step was postdoctoral research in the US. But as is so often the case in life our journeys can take unexpected detours.
The Shell period
In the months writing up my thesis work I realized that national service, then compulsory in the Netherlands, would inevitably quench any dreams of a postdoctoral adventure. By good fortune, I was offered a position at the Royal Dutch Shell Research Laboratories (KSLA) in Amsterdam that, because of my expertise in stereochemistry, exempted me from active military service and provided the next best thing to a Postdoc period in the US; as a young academic, I was entering a highly prestigious corporate research institute, comparable to Bell Labs or DuPont central research, with a worldwide reputation in catalysis. Indeed, I experienced an amazing exposure to both fundamental and applied catalysis research during my 6.5 years at Shell. Most of my own research focused then on catalytic oxidations and novel ligand and catalyst design. In my first months, I shared an office with David Reinhoudt, who introduced me to the then rapidly emerging field of supramolecular chemistry. Although I was working on fundamental problems in catalysis, for instance photo-redox catalysis, I strongly benefitted from the interaction with process chemists also. The exposure to numerous industrially relevant projects provided me with important insights that have helped to shape my future collaborative research projects, as well as in teaching our students, the majority of whom would enter industrial careers. Definitively, my later projects on asymmetric catalysis and phosphoramidites with DSM, catalytic oxidations with Unilever and liquid crystals with Philips over the past decades, were partly rooted in my industrial research period at Shell.
Apart from the KSLA period, I spent nearly 1.5 years at Shell Biosciences center in Sittingbourne, Kent, UK, working on herbicides. This period was equally fascinating, discussing with biochemists and plant physiologists among others. Immersion in total synthesis and chemical biology further stimulated my admiration for the power of synthetic chemistry to create and the unlimited opportunities presented by molecular design. Equally stimulating were regular meetings with Sir John Cornforth and members the British chemical community. Following my return to Shell Amsterdam and the catalysis group of Piet van Leeuwen, I realized that reading the latest discoveries in the prime chemistry journals still inspired me more than delving into industrial problems. When I was approached in 1984 by my Alma Mater to consider a junior faculty position in the chemistry department, theere was no hesitation. The fact that in that year I had married my wife Betty, who then lived in Groningen and was employed by the University Medical Center there, made the decision even easier.
University of Groningen
My research program over subsequent years was based firmly in synthetic organic and physical organic chemistry. Although it developed along two main lines, catalysis and molecular switches, stereochemistry remained the overarching theme. Exploring chiral space regularly provided fascinating surprises, be it a novel method to determine enantiomer excess without an external source of chirality, chiral amplification through sublimation, or DNA-based asymmetric catalysis (together with Gerard Roelfes).
Catalytic oxidation is key to many of the world's most important industrial processes, and confronted with the challenge to design selective oxidation processes we focused on anti-Markovnikov Wacker oxidation and non-heme iron and manganese based catalytic systems. As part of these programs I enjoyed superb cooperation with Larry Que (Univ. Minnesota), Ronald Hage (Unilever/Catexel) and Wesley Browne (Univ. Groningen) over many years. Building my research team in the late 80s, I became intrigued by the lack of a highly enantioselective method for conjugate addition of organometallic (alkyl-zinc and copper) reagents. The introduction of chiral phosphoramidites as a novel privileged class of chiral ligands in asymmetric catalysis resulted ultimately (in 1996) in the 1,4-addition of organozinc reagents with synthetically useful enantioselectivities. From this period on, I had the privilege to work together on highly successful projects with my close colleagues Adri Minnaard and Suzy Harutyunyan, focusing on challenging total syntheses and equally challenging problems in asymmetric catalysis. It took another 8 years before we succeeded in taming Grignard reagents for similar conjugate additions and allylic substitutions; the key was to go deep and understand at a mechanistic level both the catalyst and the reaction as a whole. Spurred on by this success, finally, after 20 years of effort, we were able to achieve catalytic asymmetric C-C bond formation with the notoriously reactive organolithum reagents. Controlling aggregation behavior and applying well defined copper complexes provided the long-awaited solution. This was the stepping stone for our current program on ultrafast organolithium cross coupling.
I was appointed as full professor in 1987, succeeding my scientific father Hans Wijnberg in 1988, and gave my inaugural public lecture at the University of Groningen (the academic oratie is a fine Dutch tradition) in 1989 entitled "Order and Dynamics in Synthesis." The discussion on that occasion among others centered on "intelligent molecules"; I pondered on how far we could go in building functional molecules that were designed to perform specific tasks, ultimately creating tiny molecular robots.
Betty and our three daughters at younger age.
Figure 5. Betty and our three daughters at younger age.
This event was the starting point for over 25 years of work on molecular switches and motors. The basic idea was to design molecular information storage materials taking advantage of the dormant overcrowded alkene switches from my PhD period. The excellent switching properties (photo-bistability) and inherent chirality (for non-destructive read-out) were decisive factors that enabled the birth of an entire class of chiroptical molecular switches. The merging of synthesis with mechanistic studies, photochemistry, materials chemistry and spectroscopy, in close cooperation with Wesley Browne, attracted students with distinct training and expertise who beyond doubt were highly influential in our discussions and approaches taken during the next two decades. An important collaboration on the absolute configuration of chiral overcrowded alkenes was started with Noboyuki Harada in Sendai. We extended our program on photoswitches to control biosystems such as MsCl protein channels and SecY protein transporters (with biochemist Armagan Kocer and molecular microbiologist Arnold Driessen, respectively). As our research slowly evolved from molecules into dynamic molecular systems we worked on control of organization along different length scales, i.e. gels, polymers and liquid crystals. The studies on chiroptical switches culminated in the discovery of our light-driven unidirectional rotary motor, reported in 1999. This was also the starting point for the design of several generations of motors, surface anchored rotary motors and motorbased liquid crystals (in cooperation with Dick Broer, then at Philips Research). Being a member of both the Stratingh Institute for Chemistry and the Zernike Institute for Advanced Materials at the University of Groningen was a major advantage, providing access to a wide range of facilities (in particular for surface characterization) and highly beneficial to my students working on these multifaceted problems. The Spinoza grant was the immediate reason for the design of a four-wheel drive molecular car tackling the fundamental challenge of how to convert rotary molecular motion into translational motion across a surface. After 7 years we succeeded, in close cooperation with Kalle Ernst at EMPA, Zurich. These were fascinating years for my "motor team" as we designed single motors that could move in both directions, motors powered by visible light, multitasking chiral catalyst and self-assembled nanostructures based on rotary motors among others. In hindsight, probably the most memorable event in all these years was the direct observation by the naked eye of a micro-object rotating, while floating on a soft liquid crystal surface, by a light-driven motor.
I had the pleasure to spend a major part of my life at the University of Groningen's Chemistry Department with fine colleagues and an open border-free atmosphere encouraging students to cooperate and staff to discuss and work together. I enjoyed working with my group on diverse chemical problems stimulating creativity and cooperation with ample opportunities to learn and explore beyond our comfort zone. It was indeed a privilege to join my highly talented students on a fascinating journey into the largely uncharted territory of molecular motors and machines.
The Feringa group at a sports event during the yearly Workweek in the 90s.
Figure 6. The Feringa group at a sports event during the yearly Workweek in the 90s.
The long tradition of spending a week each year with my whole group abroad, visiting industry and another university or research institute, is highly valued. This "workweek" with student-organized lectures ranging from industrial innovation, ethics, chemical warfare to molecular cooking, joint symposia and sports and pub events greatly stimulated a fine team spirit.
Betty, our daughters Femke, Hannah and Emma and son in law Jorrit at a recent ceremony when I received a Royal decoration.
Figure 7. Betty, our daughters Femke, Hannah and Emma and son in law Jorrit at a recent ceremony when I received a Royal decoration.
Shortly after my appointment in Groningen, Betty and I decided to move to the village of Paterswolde just south of Groningen, giving us both the chance to enjoy a decent daily cycle to and from our respective workplaces. "Moving in Flatland" in the northern Netherlands of course gives plenty of time each day to think about the three-dimensional puzzles that we were facing in the lab. Just as memorable have been the annual BBQ's in our garden when the whole group gathers together (often during European and World Cup Soccer events) and the many PhD graduations, for which we have the tradition of making a movie about the candidates' time to ensure that their many unexpected talents in and out of the lab are remembered.
My current research group.
Figure 7. My current research group.
I enjoy long-distance skating, and as a farmer's son it is a delight to have our own piece of land with a meadow, horse and vegetable garden which allows me not only to exercise in the weekends but never lose contact with nature. Our three daughters shared the enthusiasm for learning and sports. Femke, a cell biologist, is in the final year of her PhD studies at the Netherlands Cancer Institute (NKI), Hannah just started a PhD in the area of food allergies at the Utrecht University Medical Center and Emma is a Masters student in movement sciences at the Free University of Amsterdam. The week of skiing in the Swiss Alps every winter and the sailing events on the Frisian lakes each summer provide ample opportunity for challenges beyond chemistry and are very precious moments with Betty and the children. I am extremely happy to have experienced great support during my entire career from my family and that they tolerate me being distracted by "crazy molecules" at unexpected moments. Betty always reminds us of my passion: "Being a scientist is a way of life." I could not agree more, and I am grateful that she was and is always alongside me on our journey.
Inspiring
Meet Dubai's richest Indian woman, who is UAE's first female doctor
At the age of 84, Zulekha Daud is the Chairperson and Founder of the Zulekha Hospital Group. The UAE-based doctor-turned-entrepreneur also received India's top honours for overseas Indians – the Pravasi Bhartiya Samman Award 2019.
"There was little money in the house, but education was the key and was regarded as a means to livelihood," said Dr Zulekha Dawood, renowned doctor in UAE and the first female Indian doctor to practice in the country, and also now Dubai's richest Indian women. From the humble abodes of Maharashtra to the swanky skyscrapers of Dubai, Dr. Zulekha Dawood's life story is the epitome of resilience, determination, and hard work.
Humble Beginnings
The 84-year-old Dr. Zulekha Dawood's early life was laced with numerous hardships. She was born into a financially constrained family in Nagpur, Maharashtra, her father, a daily wage worker, battled the odds daily to sustain his family. Despite the dire situation, Zulekha's ambition and dreams were never hindered. She graduated with a Bachelor of Medicine and Bachelor of Surgery degrees from the Government Medical College in Nagpur, specialising in gynaecology.
"I belong to a conservative Muslim family. My parents, however, were liberal in their thoughts and never discriminated against me because I was a girl. My father had a dream to see my siblings and me educated," recalled Dr Zulekha.
Upon completing her medical studies, Dr. Zulekha went to the UAE in 1964. This move was not just a milestone for her but pioneered a new revolution, she became the first Indian doctor to practise medicine in the UAE. With an unwavering passion for her profession and a commitment to service as a gynaecologist, she delivered over 10,000 babies in Dubai, crafting her legacy in the medical fraternity.
"I was a gynaecologist by specialisation, but I was treating patients with a number of medical issues -- from small-pox to a dislocated arm to viral infections. Malaria was rampant those days and they had to be treated immediately. Added to this, there were only few doctors in the city," she stated.
Founding Zulekha Hospital Group
The early days of her medical career in Dubai witnessed struggles such as limited facilities and technology. There were no X-Ray machines, laboratories, or ultra-sound machines to diagnose an illness in those days. There were no medicines as we see today for treatment. It was the skill and experience of the doctor that mattered most for accurate diagnosis and treatment," she said.
Realizing this gap and driven by a vision to offer advanced healthcare services, Dr. Zulekha Dawood founded the Zulekha Hospital Group in 1992, as an institute which wasn't just a business venture; it was a ray of hope and health for numerous individuals.
Achievements and Recognition
At the age of 84, Zulekha Daud is the Chairperson and Founder of the Zulekha Hospital Group. The UAE-based physician-turned-entrepreneur also received India's top honours for overseas Indians – the Pravasi Bhartiya Samman Award 2019. Zulekha Daud was also mentioned in the Forbes Middle East's top 100 Indian leaders in UAE.
At the age of 84, Zulekha Daud is the Chairperson and Founder of the Zulekha Hospital Group. The UAE-based doctor-turned-entrepreneur also received India's top honours for overseas Indians – the Pravasi Bhartiya Samman Award 2019.
"There was little money in the house, but education was the key and was regarded as a means to livelihood," said Dr Zulekha Dawood, renowned doctor in UAE and the first female Indian doctor to practice in the country, and also now Dubai's richest Indian women. From the humble abodes of Maharashtra to the swanky skyscrapers of Dubai, Dr. Zulekha Dawood's life story is the epitome of resilience, determination, and hard work.
Humble Beginnings
The 84-year-old Dr. Zulekha Dawood's early life was laced with numerous hardships. She was born into a financially constrained family in Nagpur, Maharashtra, her father, a daily wage worker, battled the odds daily to sustain his family. Despite the dire situation, Zulekha's ambition and dreams were never hindered. She graduated with a Bachelor of Medicine and Bachelor of Surgery degrees from the Government Medical College in Nagpur, specialising in gynaecology.
"I belong to a conservative Muslim family. My parents, however, were liberal in their thoughts and never discriminated against me because I was a girl. My father had a dream to see my siblings and me educated," recalled Dr Zulekha.
Upon completing her medical studies, Dr. Zulekha went to the UAE in 1964. This move was not just a milestone for her but pioneered a new revolution, she became the first Indian doctor to practise medicine in the UAE. With an unwavering passion for her profession and a commitment to service as a gynaecologist, she delivered over 10,000 babies in Dubai, crafting her legacy in the medical fraternity.
"I was a gynaecologist by specialisation, but I was treating patients with a number of medical issues -- from small-pox to a dislocated arm to viral infections. Malaria was rampant those days and they had to be treated immediately. Added to this, there were only few doctors in the city," she stated.
Founding Zulekha Hospital Group
The early days of her medical career in Dubai witnessed struggles such as limited facilities and technology. There were no X-Ray machines, laboratories, or ultra-sound machines to diagnose an illness in those days. There were no medicines as we see today for treatment. It was the skill and experience of the doctor that mattered most for accurate diagnosis and treatment," she said.
Realizing this gap and driven by a vision to offer advanced healthcare services, Dr. Zulekha Dawood founded the Zulekha Hospital Group in 1992, as an institute which wasn't just a business venture; it was a ray of hope and health for numerous individuals.
Achievements and Recognition
At the age of 84, Zulekha Daud is the Chairperson and Founder of the Zulekha Hospital Group. The UAE-based physician-turned-entrepreneur also received India's top honours for overseas Indians – the Pravasi Bhartiya Samman Award 2019. Zulekha Daud was also mentioned in the Forbes Middle East's top 100 Indian leaders in UAE.
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