Dr. PY Deshmukh: Old Memories

The GMC Nagpur alumni mourn the passing of Dr. P.Y. Deshmukh, a revered teacher of medicine whose influence extended far beyond the lecture halls and hospital wards. He departed yesterday at the age of 95, leaving behind a legacy of wisdom, wit, and an enduring passion for the art of healing.

Born in 1930, Dr. Deshmukh was an exceptional student—”first class first” in his tenth board examinations—and among the earliest batches of GMC Nagpur. He rose to lead the Department of Medicine and later served as the esteemed dean of the college, shaping generations of physicians.

For those fortunate enough to have been his students in the late seventies, his presence was unforgettable. He graced the wards with a quiet dignity, often accompanied by his trusted colleagues, Drs. SN Joglekar, PD Jalgaonkar and (Late) Rajeev Warhadpande. Dr. Aziz Khan , his resident in Kidney Unit II, remembers him fondly. I was K1, Khan was K2. (Kidney Unit registrars in Unit 1 and 2 respectively).

His rounds were not mere clinical exercises; they were performances—elegant, deliberate, and infused with his characteristic wit. As he moved from bed to bed, poetry flowed from his lips, his words a rhythmic diagnostic tool:

“𝘙𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘪? 𝘋𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘪.”

“𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵? 𝘋𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵.”

These weren’t just medical instructions; they were lyrical lessons, indelibly etched in the minds of his students.

In the classroom, his presence commanded attention. Short and stoic, his voice boomed across the lecture hall, each word carefully chosen, each concept clearly articulated. We, his students, meticulously transcribed his every utterance, knowing we were in the presence of a master.

His pronunciation of two particular words—”Mannitol” and “Perhaps”—became part of his legend, echoing from the podium during lectures on stroke treatment, lingering in the memories of those who learned from him.

Dr. Deshmukh’s words, like his stature, were concise but powerful. He used his height to playfully emphasize the immensity of the field of medicine. “𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳!” he’d declare. This was followed by, “𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘒𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨.”

These words, spoken with a twinkle in his eye, left the class spellbound. This playful admonition spoke volumes about humility and the pursuit of knowledge.

He was to Dr. B.S. Choubey what Rahul Dravid was to Virender Sehwag—the perfect balance of steadiness and flair. While Dr. Choubey’s energy was dynamic and aggressive, Dr. Deshmukh’s approach was patient and precise, anchoring the team with quiet confidence.

His slow, almost whispered speech, his carefully chosen words, his expressive eyes scanning the ward, absorbing every detail—these were the hallmarks of his unique style. He moved at his own rhythm, enriching our rounds with his famous one-liners, each a miniature masterpiece.

His son, Pradeep, now heads the Department of Cardiology at GMC Superspeciality Hospital, Nagpur—in the footsteps of his father.

Yesterday, that steady presence was stilled. The final round is complete. And yet, Dr. P.Y. Deshmukh’s influence lives on in the doctors he trained and the countless lives he touched. May his soul rest in eternal peace.