Reflections on Medicine and Life by Dr. S.P. Kalantri
Two respected doctors in Nagpur died within little more than a year of each other. One was a radiologist, the other a neurosurgeon. Both were young, at the height of their careers, well known across the city. The radiologist was tall, soft-spoken, and loved by everyone who knew him. He went in for a routine … Read the essay
An invitation to address 400 NCC cadets on careers became an unexpected lesson in public speaking. Stories worked better than lectures—and twenty minutes would probably have worked better than forty.
“Enough.” It was the only time I heard Mamta Tiwari refuse treatment. For almost three years she had accepted everything that cancer demanded of her — major surgery, chemotherapy, repeated hospital admissions, drainage tubes into both kidneys, powerful antibiotics, pain, uncertainty, and nearly eighty journeys between Wardha and Mumbai. Each time a new complication arose, … Read the essay
A chance meeting in Sevagram became my last conversation with Dr. Harshvardhan Tikle. This is a remembrance of a quiet boy who grew up in the warden’s quarters, loved Marathi books, followed his father’s calling, and left far too soon.
I have given hundreds of talks in my life. Lectures to medical students, presentations at conferences, seminars on diagnostics and evidence-based medicine. For all of them I prepared slides. Dozens of them, sometimes. When Dr Pankaj Harkut, cardiologist from Nagpur, invited me to speak on dying with dignity at a physicians and cardiologists conference in … Read the essay