Nostalgia has a way of sneaking up on you. You try to avoid comparing the “good old days” to the present, but somehow, you end up doing it anyway.
The younger generation hates it. They roll their eyes when we compare the 60s and 70s to today. But as you age, those comparisons just happen—whether you like it or not.
Back in my day—in the early 1960s—we didn’t have “KG” or 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑛. No, we had 𝐵𝑎𝑙 𝑀𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖r and 𝑆ℎ𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑢 𝑉𝑖ℎ𝑎𝑟—names that sound like they belong in a fairytale. It was the Hindi and Marathi equivalent of the sleek German names we hear today.
And the best part? We went to public schools—good old Hindi and Marathi medium.
The first four years of school? Free. Yes, no fees. Can you even imagine that today? Then came grades 5 to 8, where my parents started paying Rs 2.50 a month.
Hold on, it gets better! I switched to another school in Wardha that taught science in English (you know, the “fancy” stuff). The fees shot up to Rs 3.20 per month. But there was a catch—I got a “brother concession” because my older brother was already studying there. That knocked my fees back down to Rs 2.60 a month.
Here’s the twist to the tale: I went to Jankidevi Bajaj Science College in Wardha in 1972. Ironically, just a few years ago, the Bajaj family dropped their grandmother’s name, keeping only the family name. A Padma Bhushan awardee, she helped build the very institution where her name was erased. I wonder what she would have thought.
We paid less than Rs 10 a month for the year we spent studying Botany, Zoology, Physics, Chemistry, and—of course—English.
Now, let’s talk about the big leagues—1973, the year I entered GMC Nagpur. My tuition fees? Rs 72 per semester. Yes, you heard that right. A year later, they raised the fees to Rs 78 per semester. A whole six rupees for six months.
The reaction? Chaos. Students were in an uproar, and most parents were furious. They marched straight to the dean, demanding the fees be lowered. With a calm but firm tone, the dean looked at them and said, “The fees won’t be rolled back. They stay as they are.” Much like today’s deans, he was as stubborn as ever. No reduction.
Now, let’s do some quick math. For my entire five-year MBBS at GMC Nagpur, my parents paid Rs 700 in tuition—the same amount they’d pay for a hotel stay. The mess bill? Rs 45 a month. So, the grand total for my entire MBBS education? Just Rs 2,700.
All this included tuition fees, hostel rent, and mess charges—education, accommodation, and food, all covered.
As for my PG, my parents didn’t have to spend a dime. PG was free, and we were given a stipend of Rs 150 during our internship and Rs 450 during residency.
Fast forward to today, and I’m speechless. If today’s medical students and residents read this, their jaws would drop.
So, what happened? Was medical education back then ridiculously cheap because of public colleges? Or have private medical colleges driven the cost so high that it’s now out of reach for the common man?
That, to me, is the million-dollar question.
It makes me wonder: was my entire education—from KG to PG—a bargain in comparison?
Only PM Modi and President Trump have the answer.
When our courts consider it a consumer court case, business is how the other side going to treat it. it is costly and we must look into the matter if it is worth the money- both education and treatment cost. but as doctors we must also introspect as to what we are imparting to our younger generation- that surpasses all the limits of norm. we have failed to respect our young medicos, what to say of the patients.
I paid the same fee and now wonder about the amount paid by medical students. Good old world!
We were in the mid-phase… ₹2500 MGIMS fees, ₹700 during the internship, and felt like millionaires when we got ₹2700 as demonstrators in the 3rd year of PG. And now, no package excites us. We’ve seen the journey of the next generation of medical students—so many NEET study packages, whether in government or private MBBS, and even in MD of choice, merit still requires money to sustain without any additional tangible benefits.
Inflation!
My father, a Class I government officer, started with a grade of ₹1100 in the 1970s—a significant achievement for a middle-class family with a government quarter and a car, and no scope for uppari kamayi!
Despite holding a high-ranking post that brought him into close contact with stalwarts like Raja of Kashmir Karan Singh and many ministers, he never felt the frustration of uski kameez mere se safed kaise!
Thanks to my father and grandmother, I had the opportunity to meet political stalwarts, former royalty, film artists, governors, presidents, prime ministers, and industrialists. Yet, no one ever taught me to say, Tu janta nahi mera baap kaun hai!
I paid a ₹6 fee at a school in Bombay that gave me a foundation of integrity. All the children from the government campus attended the same school, and many have done exceptionally well by today’s societal standards.
In those days, we knew our aukat and were vulnerable to influence only from friends and family—not, as in today’s world, from an entire media ecosystem and paid influencers. The latter have fueled a rat race and inflation—not just in the economy but also in aukat!
Everyone seems to be proving something to someone else, leading to rankings for everything—even nursery schools. The race continues until retirement, only for us to realize how we got trapped in this rat race.
One aspect that comes to mind is the overly socialist mindset that prevailed until the early 1990s, which could be blamed for today’s skyrocketing prices. In medical colleges, everything was patient-centric, with medical education seen as a byproduct.
Adding to this is the lawmakers’ longstanding neglect of the health and education sectors, failing to provide adequate funding. This neglect is a major factor behind the escalating costs of medical education.
So, who will bear the cost of patient care? Naturally, it falls on those who want to pursue this path. If you can afford it, you pay for it to chase your dream.
Medical education has become absurdly expensive and increasingly arduous, with one degree following another—fellowship after fellowship. By the time you’ve climbed the last peak, you’re often left drained and out of steam.
I secretly hope my daughters don’t aspire to become doctors. It just doesn’t feel worth it anymore.
You are right, Dr. Kalantri. Medical education has indeed become very expensive, especially after the advent of privatization.
It’s a matter of demand and supply, coupled with inflation. While some people are undoubtedly wealthier now, the majority are not.
Times have changed drastically, along with the value of currency. In 1958, $1 equaled ₹4, and today it’s ₹89. Gold was ₹80 per tola, and now it’s ₹82,000 for 10 grams. What staggering inflation!
This reflects not just the devaluation of the rupee but also a decline in morals, the ethos of doctors, and humanity as a whole. Everything has become commerce—everything has a price. Comparisons with the past are now meaningless.
Yes, education was incredibly cheap back then, and many daily necessities were far more economical compared to today’s prices. However, the cost of living was also much lower, salaries were modest, and disposable income for an average household was minimal.
For instance, fuel cost just 60 paise per liter, and scooters or cars were a rarity. Bicycles were considered a luxury and were often rented. Food, books, stationery, and medicines were also very affordable.
In this sense, the circumstances of those times and today are not directly comparable. Unlike today, students were rarely addicted to luxuries or high-end lifestyles.
The economic boom in India brought an abrupt social shift. False wants began to dominate our minds, turning luxuries into necessities and status symbols. As a result, character and integrity were sidelined, and MONEY became both the King and Queen. Unfortunately, this trend seems unstoppable now.
Fees have been skyrocketing for a long time and continue to do so. I wonder why—perhaps Modi and Trump would have the answers.
My hostel fees were just ₹2000 a year. Can we even imagine such a thing today?
The commercialization of education is the main culprit. 😌
A comparison of the price of gold and the value of the rupee then and now would indeed be interesting.
It is true.