Dr. Pramod Gupta
She asked what social work he had done. He lied: “We built a temple and opened it to Harijans.” Two lies and one stubborn heart got him into MGIMS.
Dr. Mankesh Lal Gambhir
His father declared all his daughters would be doctors and his son an engineer. All five children became doctors. He had to revise his dream — but not his pride.
Dr. Rajeev Chaudhari
He had been born two kilometres away. His father had supplied grain to the same people now sitting across the interview table. He got in — and eventually headed a department at KEM.
Dr. Subhash Shrivastava
Kesariya lifted a red brick and shouted “Aa che!” Rajendra Wagh lifted another and retorted “Ho aahe!” Both bricks raised like trophies, both men glaring at each other — and then the crowd burst into laughter. The brick had spoken two languages and said the same thing. That was Sevagram in 1969.
Dr. T.R. Pushpam
At Wardha station, her father asked her to request water from a shopkeeper. She froze. The word — pani — had completely left her. They stared at each other and then laughed. That moment of comic bewilderment was the best preparation possible for Sevagram: the willingness to be lost, briefly, and to find it funny.