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.
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.
Twenty-four hours can change the trajectory of a clinical case—or a life. Looking back at a pivotal day in the wards, these memories serve as a reminder of the thin line between crisis and recovery in the practice of medicine.