Latest news with #Bhabha
Time of India
24-06-2025
- Science
- Time of India
From Homi Bhabha to APJ Abdul Kalam: The 'Rocket Boys' who helped make India become a nuclear power
Image: If you've ever watched a launch from Sriharikota with goosebumps running down your spine, or simply felt proud when India stood its ground in a high-stakes global summit, you've already felt the legacy of our nuclear pioneers—even if you didn't know their names. They didn't wear capes. They didn't chase fame. They quietly rewired the soul of a young, bruised, but hopeful nation. When the world doubted India's scientific spine—when phrases like 'third world' echoed in smug policy rooms—these men were busy building reactors out of resolve, laboratories out of sheer willpower, and global respect with equations no one else dared to solve. This isn't a story of warheads and tests. This is the story of scientists who turned atoms into a national language of self-reliance and pride. Of engineers who soldered together the dreams of millions. Of thinkers who believed that India's future should never be outsourced—not its food, not its defence, and certainly not its dignity. This is our tribute to the men who made India a nuclear state—not through noise, but through quiet, blistering brilliance. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Giao dịch CFD với công nghệ và tốc độ tốt hơn IC Markets Đăng ký Undo Homi Jehangir Bhabha Imagine a young Bhabha strolling the Cambridge gardens, chasing cosmic rays and exchanging ideas with Paul Dirac and Niels Bohr—and then turning around and deciding, 'Let's build something in India.' That's the kind of man he was. Born in 1909 in Bombay, he defied family expectations, swapped engineering for physics, and earned his PhD in 1935. World War II grounded him back home. He took up a reader post under C.V. Raman at IISc Bengaluru in 1940—and then wrote a letter that changed history. In it, he pitched Nehru on India's nuclear future. Fast forward: he founded TIFR in 1945, became the first chairman of the AEC in 1948, and by 1956, he had APSARA—Asia's first nuclear reactor—up and humming. Bhabha also loved music, painting, and deep conversations—a true Renaissance man. He passed away in a tragic plane crash in 1966, but left behind BARC, TIFR, and the pillars of India's nuclear program. Picture it: August 20, 1956. APSARA reaches criticality at Trombay in just 15 months—a feat driven by Bhabha's vision and Indian engineering muscle. Named by Nehru after a mythical water-nymph, APSARA wasn't just a reactor—it was the first note in India's nuclear symphony. Apsara was more than tech—it was a promise. Homi N. Sethna People often think reactors and bombs just pop up. But behind the scenes, men like Homi N. Sethna were in trenches, building plutonium plants, uranium mills, and thorium extraction systems. When 'Smiling Buddha' went off in 1974, Sethna's decades of groundwork paid off. As AEC chair, he held firm to the 'peaceful nuclear explosion' line—and helped shift India's atomic capabilities toward a bolder future. Raja Ramanna Born in 1925, Ramanna grew up on music and physics. He told India Today how his mother introduced him to piano, Bach, and a love for patterns—something that undoubtedly influenced his scientific temperament. In 1974, he led the team that pulled off Pokhran-I—a defining moment dubbed "India's first smile of nuclear capability." Under his steady hand, Smiling Buddha became both legend and strategy. A scientist with both soul and strategy, he continued shaping India's defence science for decades. Rajagopala Chidambaram Chidambaram wasn't in the limelight, but he was the quiet force behind both Smiling Buddha (1974) and Pokhran-II (1998). Serving as Principal Scientific Adviser, BARC head, and AEC chair, he bridged science and policy, securing India's nuclear doctrine and global voice. Though he passed away early this January, his legacy endures: two nuclear tests, scientific respect, and national security forged by a brilliant mind. P. K. Iyengar Dr. P. K. Iyengar played a vital role in India's first nuclear test. As one of the chief scientists behind Pokhran-I in 1974, he was responsible for developing the plutonium core for the device. Iyengar went on to become the Director of BARC and later the Chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission. A bold voice for self-reliance in nuclear technology, he pushed for indigenous heavy water production and fast breeder reactor development. M. R. Srinivasan M. R. Srinivasan was a master of making nuclear energy work for India's power grid. He led the development of India's pressurised heavy water reactors and played a key role in shaping the Department of Atomic Energy's policy. As former AEC chairman, his contributions ensured nuclear power moved from dream to dependable supply. He passed away in 2024, leaving behind a legacy that lights homes and cities every single day. V. S. Arunachalam As Scientific Adviser to the Defence Minister during the 1980s and early '90s, Dr. V. S. Arunachalam worked on classified nuclear and missile programmes. His strength lay in bridging science, industry, and defence, making him one of the few to influence both military applications and nuclear strategy from within government corridors. K. Santhanam K. Santhanam was one of the key DRDO scientists behind Pokhran-II in 1998. He was a vocal advocate of India's nuclear capabilities and stirred debate when he publicly questioned the yield of the 1998 thermonuclear device—highlighting the importance of scientific transparency. His commitment to rigorous assessment made India's nuclear programme stronger and more introspective. K. Subrahmanyam K. Subrahmanyam wasn't a scientist, but his role in India's nuclear evolution was no less critical. As a strategic thinker and head of India's National Security Advisory Board, he was the ideological architect of India's nuclear doctrine—especially the 'No First Use' policy. He fiercely defended India's nuclear autonomy at global forums and mentored generations of security analysts. Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam played a pivotal role in India's nuclear program as the chief scientific advisor and director of the Defence Research and Development Organisation (DRDO). He was a key figure in the successful Pokhran-II nuclear tests conducted in 1998, which marked India's emergence as a nuclear power. Kalam coordinated efforts between DRDO, BARC, and the armed forces, ensuring technical excellence and national security. His leadership, strategic vision, and deep understanding of aerospace and missile technologies earned him the title 'Missile Man of India' and cemented his legacy as an architect of India's defense and nuclear self-reliance. Why their stories matter today Because they teach us that ambition paired with responsibility, science with soul, and national pride with global empathy can change everything. These weren't men in marble statues or names meant only for textbooks. They were real, flesh-and-blood human beings—curious, flawed, brilliant, and deeply committed. They joked in lab corridors, debated at chai stalls, painted canvases after work, and played classical music when no one was watching. Some were stubborn. Some were gentle. Some had egos that could fill a room. Others barely spoke above a whisper. But they all carried a fire inside—the belief that India, even in its infancy as a free nation, could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with global giants. They didn't build nuclear reactors just to flex power—they built institutions, ideas, and confidence. Men like Homi Bhabha didn't just sketch out atomic blueprints, they mentored generations of scientists and convinced leaders to invest in what the world thought was impossible for a newly independent country. Vikram Sarabhai wasn't just about rockets and physics—he championed peace, art, and education. These were dreamers who built real things. They created a space where science wasn't cold—it had a beating heart and a moral compass. They remind us that greatness doesn't come from brute strength, but from discipline, vision, and an unshakable sense of purpose. They showed that a small, war-torn, economically struggling country could walk the tightrope of geopolitics with dignity—and even build a nuclear program not just for defense, but for energy, education, and innovation. Their legacy? It's not just bombs or reactors. It's the confidence that if you dare to dream—and work relentlessly with both mind and heart—you can rewrite your country's destiny. They may not be trending, but their impact is timeless. The legacy lives on Walk into any nuclear reactor in Kakrapar, Tarapur, or Kudankulam, and you'll feel their presence. Tune into India's space and medicine achievements—and you'll hear their echoes. Every isotope used for cancer therapy, every megawatt generated, every strategic nuclear talk—they laid the bricks. Our nuclear legacy isn't just tech or treaties—it's the heartbeat of intent. It's the rhythm of visionaries who believed in India's place in the world. They taught a generation that science is love made visible: love of challenge, love of country, love of progress. So here's to Bhabha, Sethna, Ramanna, Chidambaram, Iyengar, Srinivasan, Arunachalam, Santhanam, and Subrahmanyam—our architects of the atomic dream. They didn't just play with atoms. They sparked hope. They fueled pride. And they built a future that pulses with possibility.
Hypebeast
18-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Hypebeast
Huma Bhabha's 'Distant Star' Lands at David Zwirner Paris
Summary David Zwirner's Paris gallery is presentingDistant Star, a new solo exhibition by Pakistani American artistHuma Bhabha. Known for her eerie, hybrid forms, Bhabha debuts six sculptures and a group of large-scale drawings that explore themes of time, decay and transformation. At the front of the gallery stands the centerpiece sculpture, 'Distant Star' (2025). Cast in iron, the rust-toned figure resembles a watchful guardian. Its surface will continue to oxidize over time, reinforcing Bhabha's idea of time as a sculptural force. Inside the gallery, five sculptures made from cork, clay, Styrofoam and found materials stand on black plinths like unearthed relics. Bhabha carves and layers these forms, adding wet clay to enhance their rough, scarred surfaces. Some figures feature skeletal heads made from animal skulls and wire, evoking ruins both ancient and futuristic. Surrounding the sculptures are large drawings composed of ink and collage. Each features a hooded figure with cut-out eyes, referencing both medieval religious portraits and contemporary streetwear. These portraits, stripped of facial features, appear haunting yet human. Distant Staris Bhabha's first solo show in Paris since 2009. It runs alongsideEncounters: Giacomettiat London's Barbican Centre, where her work is on view in dialogue with the sculptures of Alberto Giacometti. David Zwirner Paris108 Rue Vieille du Temple75003 ParisFrance
United News of India
12-06-2025
- General
- United News of India
Some past sordid AI plane crashes
New Delhi, June 12 (UNI) A UK bound Air India Boeing with 242 people on board that crashed near Ahmedabad airport on Thursday afternoon, has brought back sordid memories of plane mishap tragedies. The most important was the one on January 24, 1966, in which the father of India's nuclear programme Dr Homi Jehangir Bhabha was killed. Dr Bhabha was on board Air India Flight 101, a Boeing, when it crashed near Mont Blanc in a controlled flight terrain while trying to land at Geneva Airport. All 106 passengers, including Dr Bhabha, and 11 crew members died in the crash. A misunderstanding between Geneva Airport ATC and the pilots about the aircraft position near the mountain was said to be the official reason of the crash. On January 1, 1978, Boeing 747 of Air India Flight 855 crashed into the Arabian Sea after takeoff from Mumbai. All 213 people on board were killed. The aircraft was bound for Dubai but lost control due to instrument failure combined with pilot disorientation. On June 21, 1982, Air India Flight 403 crashed at Bombay airport. Seventeen people were killed. On May 22, 2010, Air India Express Flight 812 overshot the runway at Mangalore and plunged into a gorge. The aircraft was bound for Dubai but lost control due to instrument failure resulting in 158 deaths. On August 7, 2020, Air India Express Flight 1344 from Dubai skidded off the runway at Kozhikode Airport during heavy rain. The aircraft broke into pieces. Twenty-one people on board were killed. UNI RB GNK
Economic Times
11-06-2025
- Business
- Economic Times
We got rare in abundance
Go forth and stumble on it The physicist Homi J Bhabha, the father of India's nuclear program, sought to extract power from the beach sands along India's vast coastline. Eighty years later, Bhabha's foresight might help India and the world break free of a crippling dependence on China for rare earth the height of the arms race during the Cold War, Bhabha switched to using thorium, which is in abundant supply in India, when the US restricted the enrichment of uranium for nuclear energy. The hunt for thorium led to the finding and extraction of neodymium as well. Kerala, Orissa or Tamil Nadu are rich in monazite, a key mineral source for both thorium and neodymium. With estimated reserves of 11.93 million tonnes of monazite which in turn contains ~1.07 million tonnes of thorium, a fourth of world's known thorium reserves are in India, making us the top source for the radioactive resource. Compared to rare earth magnets like samarium cobalt, neo or neodymium magnets are far more powerful with the highest energy product of all the magnet materials. They are high in magnetic strength, more versatile and less brittle than samarium cobalt, thereby most cost effective. Even without any heavy rare earth elements like dysprosium, terbium which we have no access to, a neodymium iron boron (NdFeB) magnet, will only be 10-15% weaker but fully functional and will be able to handle 95% of all applications, Vivek Vikram Singh, Group CEO of Sona Comstar -- among the biggest importer of rare earth magnets into India at ~200 tons/year estimated for FY26 – told me. By adding copper further improvements is also possible, he added. But unlike China, we never really took the next step forward – converting neodymium oxides to metal. Neither did we process that metal to make permanent magnets out of it, for modern manufacturing usage. They are called so since they don't lose their magnetic property once decades back, Beijing had the strategic vision to figure out that heavy rare earth magnets will one day run every motor in the world. By curbing its exports, China has brought the whole world to a grinding halt. This is not the first time. Back in 2010, following a spat with Japan over the East China Sea, Beijing used a similar strategy and weaponized rare earth exports. But what's worse, since we failed to see the future, Japan Inc came piggybacking on our critical minerals. Hitachi Metals and TDK joined forces and sourced neodymium from Indian Rare Earth Limited (IREL) -- a sarkari monopoly similar to Coal India of the past – for sourcing. That seeded Japan's own magnet manufacturing and were soon stockpiling to insulate their domestic industries from future supply shocks. Today 94% of the world's rare earth magnet capacity may well be in China, but Japan has managed to eke out a 4% share. The rest is scattered worldwide. If necessity made Japan wiser and innovative, it's high time India – that got 53,700 tonnes of rare earth magnets shipped for multiple industry usage -- starts focussing on investing in these critical building blocks. China has exposed global vulnerabilities to retaliate against President Trump's Liberation Day tariff announcements. We should liberate ourselves too from such of anything that needs a high temperature motor, very high torque and is confined in a small space, heat resistant magnets are a must. From wind turbines, space, smartphones, robotics, fighter jets, even the missiles used in Operation Sindoor to pinpoint enemy targets inside Pakistan or domestic appliances, much of the world's modern technology relies on these magnets. Electric vehicles alone have 33% of total usage of these rare earth magnets that allow their motors to function at high speed. But they are also used in less exotic, though no less critical, functions performed by such parts as windshield wipers, headlights, starters, speedometers, speakers and seat belt are no cars in the world – electric or ICE – where usage of these magnets is zero. It may weigh just 200 grams and cost $2, but just one small component can shut down entire production. Being the 3rd largest automobile market, we are among those hardest-hit as suppliers of OEMs are staring at the last leg of their inventory that may last till mid-July. Maruti Suzuki, the country's largest automaker, is slashing the production forecast for its upcoming electric SUV did we land up on such a brink of chronic shortage? Raw materials or rare earth mining has not been the bottleneck. Value addition has. Without economies of scale, massive subsidies were essential for sustaining commercial developments and China hammered prices to such low levels that Make in India would have needed massive cash support both capex and operating quick fix workarounds like temporarily relocating the entire component supply chain and manufacturing to the Mainland will only make us fall into their hands further. This is exactly what China is hoping for. Currently, it's a Rs 1800 crore problem. Killing the homegrown components industry will have a multi-billion dollar impact jeopardising both employment and what to do about magnets? The solution may involve three stages: One, in the short run, hammer out a diplomatic solution with China to save the domestic auto-component industry. But fundamentally, we cannot shy away from developing indigenous magnets making capacities of at least 5000 tonnes. Neodymium oxides are in abundance – IREL's annual production is estimated at 1200 tonnes -- and can easily be stepped up. Step two therefore means working with domestic miners like Hindalco, Vedanta or Tatas to help with the intermediary steps. If there was ever a strong economic case for production-linked incentive, then this must be it. Three: Any component manufacturer with knowledge of metallurgy and is familiar with processes like pressing, sintering, coating and forging can then step in to work with the metal powder and finish making the final product. With domestic capacity, heavy rare earths like dysprosium and terbium – currently on the ban list – can be imported from countries like Australia and other friendly nations that have massive untapped reserves of rare earths. A step-by-step approach will also be a tribute to Bhabha, who also conceived India's nuclear power program in three stages. However, some caution is warranted. Rare earth mining is a highly polluting activity. Ruining our coastal ecology for the sake of a magnet in electric vehicles will involve costly trade offs. They need to be thought through. If rare earths extraction comes at the planet's expense, EV solutions will become part of the problem. Elevate your knowledge and leadership skills at a cost cheaper than your daily tea. Benchmarked with BSE 1000, this index fund will diversify your bets. But at a cost. Yet another battle over neem; this time it's a startup vs. Procter & Gamble Warren Buffett-fan Pabrai is betting big on Edelweiss' Rashesh Shah. Will it pay off? 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Hindustan Times
03-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Hindustan Times
A tale of Homi Bhabha, MF Husain and a trove of art at a science institute
MUMBAI: In the foyer of 'A' Block at the campus of the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research (TIFR) is an M F Husain that took top honours at an unusual competition. The area is not accessible to visitors in the government-funded, high-security campus, but the mural's expanse and sharp lines are visible even from a distance, through the tall glass facade. The mural came to adorn this 9ft x 45ft wall in 1962 because Homi Bhabha, who founded the institute in 1945, invited the finest Indian artists to compete for a chance to grace a wall at TIFR's then-new Navy Nagar premises with their work. Unbeknownst to them, Bhabha had reached out to Pablo Picasso too, hoping the legendary Spanish artist would oblige. 'As a result of our conflict with the Chinese, it is quite impossible for us to pay anything in foreign exchange, leave aside the type of price that would be appropriate for Picasso,' he wrote to his friend, Irish scientist JD Bernal. 'However, I did suggest we could pay him a first-class return air fare to India and a month's stay at our expense, together with arrangements for visiting and seeing some of the country's famous archaeological monuments,' went the letter. The attempt to entice Picasso did not work out, but Husain's massive mural, Bharat Bhagya Vidhata, lent the campus a special touch, blending the pride of a modern Indian identity with his artistic genius. This was one of the tales narrated by Mortimer Chatterjee, co-founder and director of the gallery Chatterjee and Lal, at a talk that inaugurated TIFR's first Art & Archives Colloquium, organised in collaboration with Art Mumbai. Chatterjee, who has been associated with TIFR's acclaimed art collection for 15 years, spoke of how the collection was acquired between the '50s and '70s, and what it says about Indian art of that time. While Husain's mural was the first painting created for the new campus, Bhabha had been building the institute's art collection for the better part of the previous decade. Bhabha, one of India's premier nuclear physicists, had not traded art for science; he paid keen attention to the campus's architecture and gardens too. He was, after all, an artist himself. 'While Bhabha was the steering force of the collection, he had a whole band of art insiders around him keeping a close eye on the exhibitions and new work being produced. Chief among them was Phiroza Wadia, called 'Pipsy', whom Bhabha painted a few times. Also among them was mathematics professor KS Chandrasekharan, art critic Rudolf von Leyden and Kekoo Gandhy of the Chemold Prescott gallery,' Chatterjee recounted. 'Gandhy would invite Bhabha over the day before his exhibitions opened, for him to have the first pick, while his staff held up frames for Bhabha to visualise. He would get lost in a trance, forgetting that there was someone holding them up,' said Chatterjee, to a rapt audience, on Monday evening. 'Often the paintings would stay hung at TIFR for a while, before purchase, for Bhabha to evaluate them in the setting, just as he did with paintings for his home,' he added. During the eight years it took to build the Navy Nagar campus, the 102 acquired paintings were displayed on the walls of the old Bombay Yacht Club. Then owned by Bhabha's aunt, it served as TIFR's home before the move to Navy Nagar. Few of the paintings had anything to do with science, really. The collection was entirely contemporary. For this, Chatterjee compared Bhabha to 'the spirit of Medici', the Italian patron that fostered Renaissance art, including that of Leonardo da Vinci. The then-budding group of artists known as the Progressive Artists' Group, led by Husain, SH Raza and FN Souza, among others, inevitably took the spotlight in TIFR's art collection, but a wide range of Indian artists is actually represented across it. Bhabha's love of art needed funds to support it. He secured permission, Chatterjee said, to spend 1% of TIFR's budget on art. Bringing things full-circle, Husain helped broker deals between artists and TIFR too. After Bhabha's death in 1966, aged just 56, his successor at TIFR, MGK Menon, continued his mission, building the institute's art collection up to its current strength of 250-plus masterpieces.
