Reflections on Medicine and Life by Dr. S.P. Kalantri
It all started on a whim—those small, unexpected moments that often turn into the most memorable. One winter morning in 1986, while making my rounds at the hospital in Sevagram, an unusual thought crossed my mind: I should learn German. The idea seemed absurd, even to me. But then I learned that Mrs. Sunita Kawale, … Read the essay
Shankar sat on the old wooden bench outside his workshop, absently rubbing his rough, unshaven chin. The bright sparks of welding had once lit up his face, but now it was worn, lined with worry. He had battled difficult customers, unpaid bills, and broken machines, but this was different. This was a fight he knew … Read the essay
Radhika was never one for outbursts. But that day, as she lay in the hospital bed, her voice shattered the silence like a storm. Her eyes burned with fury. “How dare you talk to me?” she shouted, her chest rising and falling with anger. “Get out! Don’t come near me! Don’t touch me!” Her words … Read the essay
The names—Kabir, Ramdas, Vivekanand, Guru Nanak, Ramkrishna, Dharmanand, Martin Luther King, Patel, and Birla—are more than just colonies in Sevagram. They hold memories of beginnings, struggles, friendships, and quiet acts of courage. Each name has a story to tell. Yesterday, a thought crossed my mind, almost by accident Dr. Sanjay Diwan had asked whether the … Read the essay
The old principal’s office, once the heart of MGIMS in 1969, is now nothing more than a pile of rubble. Today it lies in ruins. In 1969, when MGIMS began, the principal’s office was a plain two-room building. It stood quietly next to the old hospital, where the Community Medicine department is now, almost touching … Read the essay