“So, what’s up?” I asked the young postgraduate from a neighbouring medical college.

He had just run into me on the road.

“I’ve finished my thesis, sir,” he said, sounding both relieved and battle-weary. “Now preparing for the MD exams—just two months to go.”

“That’s done?” I raised my eyebrows. “Already?”

“Yes, sir,” he nodded. “It was a double-blind trial.”

“Double-blind?” I blinked in disbelief.

For a postgraduate to pull off a double-blind study as part of their MD thesis is unthinkable—at least in the medical colleges I know. A proper randomized controlled trial, and a double-blind one at that, demanded time, money, manpower, and an experienced team to back it. Young residents juggling their thesis, emergency duties, OPD work, ICU postings, PG seminars, death meetings and ward rounds barely have time to breathe.

Where did he find the space?

He must have noticed my astonishment. He smiled and leaned in, as if about to share a secret.

“Sir, it was double-blind,” he said, lowering his voice for dramatic effect, “because neither I nor my guide had any idea what was going on.”

I stared at him, confused. He explained.

“After submitting my protocol, I forgot who my guide was. Seriously. And he forgot about me too. It was only last month, when the thesis submission deadline was looming, that I realised I should probably talk to him. When I did, he looked at me like I was a stranger.”

He chuckled. “So you see, sir, I was blind to him. He was blind to me. We were both blind to the thesis. That’s double-blind, isn’t it?”
It was hard not to laugh. The logic was impeccable. In a way, he was right—this was a double-blind study. Just not the kind medical journals publish.

And the tragedy? This isn’t an isolated case. Across many medical colleges in the country, similar scenes are unfolding—guides who vanish after protocol approval, students left fumbling in the dark, and theses that become last-minute exercises in paperwork. What is meant to be an academic milestone is now, too often, reduced to a passport for the examination.

But at least this resident found humour in the chaos. And if nothing else, he gave us the most honest definition of a double-blind study I’ve heard in years.

Khushwant Singh would have laughed uproariously.