Reflections on Medicine and Life by Dr. S.P. Kalantri
Reflections on family life, personal hobbies, and the intersection of poetry and medicine.
Today’s election jolt from Tamil Nadu: Vijay, cinema idol, surges into politics with a landslide win. His name rings out—TV, headlines, YouTube, WhatsApp. “Vijay” wakes old echoes for us. Amitabh Bachchan forged it as the ’70s avenger, righting every wrong. Shakespeare pondered first: What’s in a name? Today, it’s memory, fire, destiny. Jolt to DMK … Read more
Yesterday the news reached me: Dr. Vinod Adbe is no more. A remembrance of the man who taught me medicine in Ward 13 at GMC Nagpur — and whose dry wit arrived a full three seconds after the punchline.
She was eleven years older, steady, always there. A portrait of my sister Pushpa — the homes she built, the letters she wrote, and the quiet way she held all of us together.
A song my mother loved returns on her hundredth birthday, carrying with it a life lived quietly—of faith, family, endurance, and an unspoken understanding that, in the end, we walk alone.
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.