The MD thesisโ€”a daunting challenge that separates the strong from the faint-hearted. It is like a visa that grants access to the MD examination, a grueling rite of passage filled with challenges and obstacles. As the deadline looms, the pressure intensifies, and the postgraduate students start desperately hunting for two playersโ€”a skilled statistician to generate P values and a talented typist to work alongside them through the wee hours of the night.

As a retired PG guide, I was eager to delve into the final steps of the thesis writing process, as my former students had experienced these struggles, yet I rarely had the chance to fully understand the emotions and challenges involved in delivering a completed thesis.

So, when I had the chance to speak with a diverse group of MGIMS students about the final act of their thesis journeyโ€”getting it typedโ€”I was all ears. From the early batches in the eighties, who submitted their theses to Nagpur University in the form of four paper-based bound volumes, to the more recent ones who submitted their work in an incognito electronic format, I was eager to learn about their experiences.

I also had the chance to speak with several typists who played a crucial role in the thesis writing process since the early nineties. They recounted their tales of the emotional rollercoaster from nail-biting moments of typing and formatting to the helplessness caused by carrying wet bound theses to the guide, the nerve-wracking phase of getting the guide’s signature, and the joy of finally submitting the thesis to the university.

The advancements in technologyโ€”Microsoft Word, Excel, EndNote, Stata, personal laptops, laser printers, and mobile internetโ€”have undoubtedly made the process of typing and compiling theses easier. However, the emotional response to the final act hasnโ€™t changed a bit.

*****

In 1980, MGIMS offered its first MD programme in Sevagram, with a few students from the previous year’s batch sneaking in. At that time, only a handful of typists were available to undertake such an arduous task. Sevagram had Shantanu Dawande, (late) Kuljeet Singh, Sanjay Bawse, Ashok Udhoji, CJ Mathai, Mahendra Chaudhary, Prashant Raut, and Yogesh Khond. While in Wardha, typists like Prashant Thakre, (late) Sachin Yugaonkar, (late) Mahendra Yengde, Abhijeet Deshpande, and Sachin Chiddarwar, were the go-to people for thesis typing. Later Nandkishore Dawaitkar, Parsodkar, Marvel Computers, Gadhwani, Sandeep Mehta, Sachin Thete and Vasu joined the bandwagon. Occasionally, Manilal Pathak, and (late) CD Gokulachandran would also chip in. Sevagram also had a Sharad Typing Institute equipped with several typewriters that provided typing training to students, and many MD theses were typed in this institute as well.

Up until the mid-nineties, most students handwrote their theses. This made life difficult for typists, who had to decipher the doctors’ handwriting and try to incorporate their guide’s corrections. Moreover, many typists had poor spelling skills and made frequent typos, particularly when it came to medical terms. There were no spellchecks or tools like Grammarly at that time, which only added to the problem. For instance, Pradeep Vyavahare’s typist must have typed “hydrocele” as “hydrogen” or “hydrocarbon” countless times, requiring Pradeep Vyavahare (1985) to maintain a calm and patient attitude while correcting the errors repeatedly.

In the 1980s, postgraduate students writing their theses often had to borrow typewriters to type their work. Some typed with only two fingers, while others were more skilled and could let their fingers dance on the keyboard. Kishore Shah (1974) directly typed his thesis on his Remington Rand manual typewriter with a black ribbon and three carbon papers, pounding the keys hard to ensure the fourth copy was legible. Arvind Ghongane (1979) had to borrow a typewriter as he couldn’t afford a typist. He was a two-finger typist and often made mistakes, using whiteners to correct them.

Hariom Ahuja (1974) recalls,” Sanjay Bawsay ended up typing my thesis because Kuljeet, the popular typist on campus, was too busy, but despite the superstition that whoever got their thesis typed by Sanjay would fail their MD, I refused to believe in such beliefs and got it typed anyway, and even though I did end up failing, I refuse to blame it on superstition.”

Monica Ahuja Sinha thesis was one of the first to be computerized and printed using a dot matrix printer in Sevagram. The trend at the time was to get theses typed by typists like Kuljeet Singh, as computers were just starting to find their way into India and PCs and laptops had yet to arrive. Monica (1982) had a handwritten thesis and a friend in GAIL who offered to help with the typing. With her mother as chaperone, she went to Baroda and over 3-4 days, a team of 4 friends helped her print her thesis on a dot matrix printer.

A decade and a half later, MGIMS purchased and distributed 300 laptops, iPads, and Macbooks to faculty and residents on interest-free loans. Thus, most residents started typing their theses on their own devices. However, prior to this initiative, many PGs had already purchased their own computers, despite the high cost and low memory capacity at the time.

In 1999, Rajnish Joshi (1982 batch) owned an assembled desktop computer that had a floppy and CD slot but no USB port. The computer ran on Windows 1999-2000 and was valued at Rs. 30,000. Devashis Barick (1991 batch) owned the Pentium 2 CPU introduced by Intel in 1997, as well as an HP inkjet printer. In contrast, Rahul Narang (1987 batch), was fortunate to have access to a PC in the Microbiology department which he used to type his thesis.

After 2005, residents not only owned computers but also developed typing skills during their residency. They knew how to use Microsoft Word and Excel. Medicine PGs learned how to use EndNote, which allowed them to automatically create and format citations and bibliographies in various citation styles.

*****

๐—ง๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ผ ๐—ผ๐—ณ ๐—ง๐˜†๐—ฝ๐—ถ๐˜€๐˜๐˜€

From 1980 to 1995, most theses in Sevagram were typed by a trio of typists: ๐—ฆ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ฑ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ ๐—ž๐˜‚๐—น๐—ท๐—ฒ๐—ฒ๐˜ ๐—ฆ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด๐—ต, ๐—”๐˜€๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ธ ๐—Ÿ๐—ฎ๐˜…๐—บ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐—ผ ๐—จ๐—ฑ๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ท๐—ถ, ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐—–๐— ๐— ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฎ๐—ถ. Among the three, Kuljeet Singh was the go-to typist for candidates in Surgery, Medicine, and Obstetrics and Gynaecology. Dr Ravinder Narang’s candidates, in particular, would rely on Kuljeet to type their manuscripts.

As he sat before his Facit typewriter, his fingers would dance over the keys with unparalleled grace. He was like an uncrowned king of the typing world, reigning supreme before the arrival of the 486 processors and Pentiums in Sevagram.

Kuljeet was not just a skilled typist but also a master at drafting acknowledgements. He would ask for the names of the people the PG wanted to acknowledge and then use his creative flair to describe them with the most vivid and flattering adjectives, making them feel much greater than they really were.

*****

I interviewed a couple of individuals who once upon a time typed MD theses.

๐—ฆ๐—ต๐—ฎ๐—ป๐˜๐—ฎ๐—ป๐˜‚ ๐——๐—ฎ๐˜„๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ๐—ฒ was the first to offer computerised thesis in Sevagram. In 1995, at the age of 24, Shantanu started Excel Computers, a computer shop in Sevagram Square that provided various services including typing MD theses. While pursuing his MBA, he got the idea for this business from his late sister Dr Savita Borle and brother-in-law Dr Rajiv Borle. Shantanu’s first computer was a 386, which he bought for a whopping Rs 85,000 in 1995. The 386 processor was equipped with 1 MB of RAM, a 20 MB hard drive, a 5.25-inch floppy disc drive, and a VGA graphics card. This computer system operated on MS-DOS, a command-line operating system prevalent at the time.

Initially, no one came to get their theses typed on computers as students found it difficult to imagine what thesis typing on computers entailed. At that time, all theses were typed on typewriters by typists like Kuljeet Singh, Mathai, Udhoji, and Sharad, and Shantanu was the first to offer MD theses on computers. Finally, the first PG came from Biochemistryโ€”Dr Pati, and Shantanu carefully typed his thesis on his 386. As the years went by, computer technology kept evolving and Shantanu made sure to stay up-to-date with the latest advancements. He started off by performing statistical tests using a calculator and drawing graphs by hand with sketch pens. However, he soon acquired SPSS and started using the software to perform statistical tests for the theses.

Gradually, he began doing five to six theses a year. He remembers Nandkishore Banait (1988), Manu Kishore, Shreevidya Venkatraman (1989), Pramod Jain (1990), Anu Gupta (1990), Rajesh Gandhi and Manish Jain (1991) Chandan Tikku (1996) were among those who did their theses with him. โ€œWe sat all night trying to decipher their handwriting and working through the several avatars of their manuscripts. “Some of theses had to be redone after they were bound because the guides identified errors after receiving the final bound copy and refused to sign until it was a clean copy,โ€ Shantanu recalled.

๐— ๐—ฎ๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฑ๐—ฟ๐—ฎ ๐—–๐—ต๐—ฎ๐˜‚๐—ฑ๐—ต๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐˜†, an accomplished typist who has been serving MGIMS since 1993, fondly recalls his work typing the theses of Dr VK Mehta’s students. Impressed with Mahendra’s exceptional typing skills, accuracy, and eye for fonts and typesetting, Dr Mehta recommended him to all his students. Mahendra typed over fifty theses across departments, and in 1994, he purchased a Pentium computer for Rs. 42,000, paying a down payment of Rs. 20,000 and the remaining amount in monthly instalments. The MD theses he typed in the nineties are like indelible ink on paper, leaving an unforgettable impression that endures.

๐—ฃ๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐˜€๐—ต๐—ฎ๐—ป๐˜ ๐—ฅ๐—ฎ๐˜‚๐˜, who currently serves as an ECG technician in the Medicine department, remembers tackling some of the most challenging theses of all. He worked with Shantanu for three years to develop a grip over the keyboard, mouse, and monitor. Like several others, he also typed close to a hundred MD theses. “The Ob Gy theses I specialized in had 10 to 15 versions of the manuscript,” he says. “As the manuscripts changed, they began to resemble their earlier versions so much that the final version bore an uncanny resemblance to the first draft.” โ€œHowever, at that time, I was unaware of the importance of saving the initial drafts and would keep typing until my fingers and the PGs’ brains became numb. It was like climbing a steep mountain with no end in sight.โ€

A guide wanted manuscripts to be typed triple spaced so that she could insert her handwritten edits between the lines. This further increased the load of dot matrix printers.

Prashant did theses for Ashish Varghese, Rajiv Gambhir, Shambhu Baitha, Snehshis Bhumika, among others. He was a great help to many Medicine PGs, teaching them how to type, format, and produce manuscripts that looked impressive and professional.

Back then, the cost of printing a page on a laser printer was Rs 15, which was quite expensive. Consequently, residents opted to get their four-page documents photocopied from Kushal Zerox, a popular photocopier in Wardha, which charged Rs two per page.

Both Prashant Raut and ๐—ฌ๐—ผ๐—ด๐—ฒ๐˜€๐—ต ๐—ž๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ฑ grew up in Sevagram. Yogesh, now a HIS network engineer, started doing theses from his home and later from a shop he rented in Sevagram Square called Shree Computers. The year was 1998. He was 22 when he purchased a Pentium 1 for Rs 52,000 along with two Celerons for Rs 28 000 each and a laser printer for Rs 18,000. He completed theses for PGs in Medicine, Ophthalmology, and Community Medicine, including names such as Arvind Nath (Community Medicine), Nitin Chavan (1989), Manoj Singh, Bhavesh Chauhan (1990), DrAnand Palimkar, Lobsang Tsetim, and DrPriya Palimkar (1991), Laxmi Singh (1992), Ajab Dhabarde (1994), among others, totaling around fifty. Yogesh was also skilled in PageMaker, which he used to produce copies that left a lasting impression on both the mentor and the mentee.

Prashant Thakare graduated from Sevagram Engineering College in 1994 and began typing theses for postgraduate students the following year. His shop was located at Wardha. He remembers, โ€œMy first computer, which I bought for Rs. 55000, was equipped with the original Pentium processor, also known as Pentium 1, that Intel introduced in March 1993. In addition to the computer, I purchased a laser printer and an inkjet printer. I also had a multimedia kit.โ€ Later on, Prashant began to attract several postgraduate students from Sevagram every year and, as was the tradition, he worked until the wee hours of the morning to type their theses. With his aesthetic sense and creativity, he ensured that the theses were well laid out.

*****

Despite technological advancements, typing a thesis was still an arduous and time-consuming process that often left students feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. Mahendra Chaudhary recounts a particular incident where a student, exhausted and fed up, fled in the middle of his thesis writing. The student’s father, who also taught at MGIMS, had to enlist the help of friends to find him and bring him back home. In some cases, theses had massive sample sizes of up to 7,000 to 8,000 patients, requiring the creation of a master chart to list all of them. This often resulted in the use of illegible fonts, and the theses would weigh 5 to 6 pounds due to the sheer number of pages. To compound the problem, students had to get their theses laser printed from another printer in Wardha who charged Rs. 7 to Rs. 15 per page. As a result, students had to pay anywhere from Rs. 10,000 to Rs. 25,000 per thesis in the nineties.

Boys and girls alike found themselves staying with the typist until the early hours, as the process of writing a thesis proved to be quite the adventure. Sheetal Bodkhe Ghuge (2005 batch) remembers the experience vividly, saying, “Thesis in itself is an adventure but riding on a Scooty from Wardha to Sevagram at 2:30 am was surely something I remember even today.”

Vishakha Jain Rao (1996) agrees, โ€œThe binding shops and the printers used to be bustling with activity during nights in the period of thesis submissions.โ€ The buzz around the thesis typing and binding shops spoke volumes about the pressure and desperation felt by postgraduate students to complete their theses on time.

DrRamesh Pandey (1989) recalls: “In the early days, I used to write most of the drafts by hand, around 90%, and for the remaining 10%, I would carry printouts and dictate the underlined sentences to a printer who owned a computer, making the editing process easier. However, he lived in Ramnagar, on the far side of Wardha, and was only available at night after I had completed all my ward work. I would start from Sevagram around 11.30 at night and reach his house around midnight, where he would type for 2-2.30 hours, and I would return to Sevagram around 3.00 am.”

“Occasionally, he would lock his door from the outside, sleeping inside, and since there was no phone, I had to return home empty-handed. I still remember a rainy day when I went on a scooter with a raincoat, only to find his door locked. Even though I knew he was inside, he didn’t respond to the bell, and I had to return home with a heavy heart.โ€

I remember a particular incident,” recalls Prashant Raut. “The guide was leaving the country for a few weeks, and she asked the student to bring her thesis before she left for Nagpur airport. Unfortunately, the student missed her by a few minutes. Undeterred, the student and her father quickly drove to catch up with the guide, who had been held up by a road barrier due to passing trains. When they finally caught up with her, the student approached the guide with shaking hands and offered her a pen to sign the final copy. The guide hurriedly signed it, and then sped off to the airport. The student was overwhelmed , wondering who she should be grateful to-the guide or the destiny.

***

After the final copy of the thesis was corrected and approved by the guide, the next task was to get it bound. There were only three binders in Wardha who could bind the typed thesis: Mr. Vijay Thakre in Ramnagar, Vijay Ashtankar at Badhe Square, and Madhukar binder near Rajkala Talkies. Often, students would rush to the binder just a few hours before the thesis submission deadline, carrying almost damp copies to the guide for signature on the four copies, and then run to the Dean Office to submit their thesis. They knew that Wasudeo Devadhe would be waiting for them in his vehicle. Desperate to meet the submission deadline, they were eager to get their theses approved by the dean and handed over to Mr. Devadhe for submission to the university.

At this stage, students were often exhausted, both physically and mentally, and had no energy left even to talk or eat.

โ€ฆโ€ฆโ€ฆ

๐—ง๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐˜ ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ๐—ณ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐˜€๐—ฒ

The conventional format for an MD thesis included an Introduction, Subjects and Methods, Results, Discussion, Summary and Conclusion. However, a guide insisted on putting the cart before the horse, wanting the conclusion before the discussion. The poor PG had already completed the arduous task of writing the thesis and was drained and exhausted. But the guide refused to sign off unless the sequence was corrected.

Although known to be kind and compassionate, the guide was also strict and uncompromising. The PG was so distraught that she wept uncontrollably, her tears soaking the pages of the already-bound thesis. The thesis had to be unbound, pages were shuffled around like a deck of cards, and everything was retyped and reassembled, all while the PG grappled with stress and exhaustion.

***

As each student sat beside the typist, dictating their manuscripts, their faces showed intense feelings of anxiety, depression, and panic. Their brows furrowed and their eyes were red and puffy from tears. Late-night visits to the typist’s shop or home after finishing ward rounds were common, with students fighting hunger and sleep to stay up until the wee hours of the morning. The stress was overwhelming, and the typists often acted as counselors, offering food and reminding them that โ€œthis too shall passโ€. It was a difficult and painful process, akin to delivering a baby obstructed in the birth canal, with the typists acting as obstetricians who had to use every tool at their disposal, including medicine, forceps, and even Caesarean sections, to help deliver the “baby” of the thesis.

Despite the toll that the thesis writing process took on their personal lives, the residents were fortunate to have a steady source of supportโ€”their families, friends, and colleagues in the department. Without their help, many may not have been able to navigate the challenging swim-or-sink situation.

As I interviewed several typists who stayed up late with MGIMS students to help them achieve their goals, I couldn’t help but think of the perfect analogy to describe their struggle: “Typing a thesis is like taming a wild horse – it takes patience, skill, and determination to make it submit to your will.”