Dr. B.J. Subhedar, the legendary physician, passed away at 96, marking the end of an era. How do you sum up the impact of such a life? His legacy is deeply ingrained in medical history, and his passing brings back many memories of how he shaped the careers of countless young doctors.

I still remember the 1970s, when he would attend the Medicine Department’s Friday evening meetings at GMC Hospital Nagpur. What did those meetings mean to us, the nervous yet eager residents? They were a chance to present cases, and there he was, along with Drs. B.S. Chaubey and G.M. Taori, analyzing even the most complex scenarios with skill and precision. Dr. Subhedar’s presence was always calming—a true role model for all of us.

Dr. Subhedar was part of the inaugural MBBS batch of 1947 at GMC Nagpur. What was life like for him during those early days? It was incredibly tough. With limited resources and a high failure rate, only eight out of 52 students, including him, passed the final exams on their first attempt. Yet, he not only survived but thrived, setting high standards in clinical care, research, teaching, and leadership.

Despite his academic success, Dr. Subhedar made a choice that defined his career. Why did he leave the academic world behind for private practice? Because he wanted to bring his clinical skills directly to patients. His sharp mind and quick decision-making earned him the respect of the entire city, making him one of Nagpur’s most esteemed physicians.

His clinic at Panchsheel Square became more than just a place for treatment. What made it so special? It was where patients felt truly valued, where his vast knowledge and care met the needs of people from all walks of life. Physicians would even seek his advice, and that speaks volumes about the trust he earned.

Dr. Subhedar was a master of bedside medicine. But how did he manage to stay relevant in an ever-changing medical world? Despite his deep roots in traditional practices like physical exams and history-taking, he always embraced the latest advances. His dedication to patient care was never in question—he knew that was the heart of medicine.

Even with a busy practice, Dr. Subhedar never missed an academic conference. Why did he do that? It was because he was always learning. Sitting in the front row, dressed in his signature tie and coat, he listened to each speaker, always asking thoughtful questions. It wasn’t just about staying up to date—it was about fostering connections with fellow doctors, reinforcing his belief in lifelong learning.

I remember when Dr. Subhedar visited Sevagram as an external examiner. What stands out from that visit? His warmth and humility. He was approachable, downplaying his immense achievements, and showing us the true essence of patient care. To him, excellence wasn’t just about knowledge—it was about character.

Dr. Subhedar was part of a legendary group of physicians at GMC Nagpur. What made that generation so special? They all shared a commitment to bedside medicine, teaching, and discipline. Together with Drs. Chaubey, Taori, Lele, and Marwah, they trained thousands of physicians, creating a legacy that continues to influence us all.

Even at 95, Dr. Subhedar wasn’t ready to retire. What kept him going? A fierce dedication to his patients. He famously said he would keep practicing as long as he could see, hear, and remember. In his final days, life took an unexpected turn. He developed a severe headache, which led to the discovery of a large subdural hemorrhage and a midline shift on the CT scan. After undergoing neurosurgery, he initially woke up, but his condition worsened. Despite a brief struggle on a ventilator, he passed away.

When he was honoured by President Draupadi Murmu, he stood tall, dignified, just as he had always been. This was the man who, even in his final phase, fought with the same resilience and grace that marked his entire career.

Dr. Subhedar’s sharp wit never faded, even in his final days. Not long ago, Dr. Ramesh Mundle, my classmate from GMC Nagpur 1973, called to invite him to be the patron of the upcoming API conference in Nagpur. Without hesitation, Dr. Subhedar agreed. Then, with his trademark humour, he asked, “How many of you are coming?” When Dr. Mundle mentioned that 8 to 10 physicians would come to invite him personally, Dr. Subhedar quipped, “Tell them to come in a single car. If you all come in different cars, people will think I, the old man, have passed away and they’re here to pay their respects!

With his passing, the medical world has lost a giant. Why do we remember people like Dr. Subhedar? Because, like the great cardiac surgeon Michael DeBakey, his passion and dedication never waned, even into his mid-nineties. He remained sharp, articulate, and deeply committed to his work—qualities that made him a physician unlike any other.

As we reflect on his life, we realize we will never see his like again. As Hamlet said, “We shall not look upon his like again.”