Reflections on Medicine and Life by Dr. S.P. Kalantri
Insights into medical ethics, human rights, and the art of teaching in a rural medical college.
I call her Badibai—the elder mother. It is a heavy title, perhaps, for a woman who is my sister, but from the moment I opened my eyes to the world, her affection has been as encompassing and natural as a well-worn cotton sari.
This morning an old man stepped into my office, his jacket sagging and a faded muffler loose around his neck. His wooden tulsi beads had deepened in colour with age as he joined his palms with a shy, familiar smile. ‘Gabbar,’ I said. ‘So you have come.
The bustle of modern elections brings back memories of an older, quieter contest in Sevagram. I recall the Lok Sabha battles of Dr. Sushila Nayar, ‘Behenji’, and the humble scooters that powered a movement of great medical and social work.
Fourteen years after his passing, the image of Dr. B. S. Choubey stepping into Ward 23 remains startlingly clear. Immaculate in dress and flawless in clinical judgement, he commanded a respect that taught us more than any lecture ever could.
A tribute to the spirit of a man who balanced the rigors of his profession with a deep-seated humanity. This reflection captures the essence of a life lived with purpose and the quiet impact he left on everyone in Sevagram.