I call her Badibaiโthe elder mother. It is a heavy title, perhaps, for a woman who is my sister, but from the moment I opened my eyes to the world, her affection has been so encompassing that the name simply stuck, fitting her as naturally as a well-worn cotton sari.
Year: 2025
Gabbar of Sevagram
This morning an old man stepped into my office, his jacket sagging, a faded muffler loose around his neck. His wooden tulsi beads had deepened in colour with age. He studied me, then joined his palms with a shy, familiar smile.
The Scooters that carried Sevagram’s Heart to Jhansi
The bustle of any election, even today, makes me think of an older, quieter contest. I recall the Lok Sabha battles of Dr. Sushila Nayar, Behenji, fought far away in Jhansi. This was long after she had begun her great work, establishing the Medical College, right here in our own Sevagram.
Dr. B.S. Choubey
Fourteen years ago, on this very day, ๐๐ฟ ๐. ๐ฆ. ๐๐ต๐ผ๐๐ฏ๐ฒ๐ left us for good.
Even now, nearly four decades later, my residency days at GMC Nagpur return with startling clarity. I still see him stepping into Ward 23: immaculately dressed, tie perfectly knotted, suit crisp, shoes shining, and his English as flawless as his clinical judgement.
B.M. Tupkar
(12 July 1942-17 November 2025)
In the Sevagram of the early 1970sโwhen nights seemed darker, trees stood taller, and time itself moved at an unhurried paceโa young man arrived with a small kitbag, a quiet smile, and a heart that beat for badminton.