The early months of the COVID-19 pandemic were defined by an uncritical, almost religious enthusiasm for unproven remedies. In the vacuum of certainty, desperation became a business model. Drugs with little to no evidence were promoted aggressively, embraced eagerly by a panicked public, and prescribed widely by physicians who felt they had to “do something.” As Medical Superintendent, I watched this erosion of scientific temper with a mixture of alarm and exhaustion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of the most glaring examples was Favipiravir. It quickly displaced hydroxychloroquine as the new promise of hope, backed by a flawed trial involving barely 150 patients. Marketed as a “game-changer,” a full course cost \u20b912,500\u2014a king’s ransom for a rural family\u2014and, at its absolute best, shortened a fever by a single day. The mismatch between the marketing promise and the clinical proof was staggering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n On June 21, 2020, I found myself unable to respond with yet another thread of data, p-values, and clinical references. I realized that data often bounces off the armor of fear, but satire has a way of finding the gaps. I decided that if the world was going to be irrational, I would meet it with irony. I wrote a poem in the voice of the drug itself and posted it on Twitter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A Satirical Take on the 2020 Craze<\/p>\n \n I see a lot of activity, today on Twitter \n My name is Favipiravir<\/span>, I have made my mark \n They tried me in just eighty patients \n So what if you can\u2019t locate me in PubMed \n I can make your x-ray look good \n So what the patients also get better if left alone The poem went viral. It captured, through irony, the absurdity of the moment\u2014how a drug could “paint the country red” without ever having to prove its worth in a peer-reviewed journal. A few weeks earlier, I had done the same for Hydroxychloroquine, pleading with the public in verse to “test me in a proper RCT” before singing its praises.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was not turning to poetry to escape science; I was using it to defend science. In a world filled with “noise,” rhyme allowed me to pause, reflect, and question without shouting. If my poems provoked discomfort among pharmaceutical executives or “miracle-cure” advocates, then the verse had served its purpose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n ***<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n Almost accidentally, I discovered that Twitter (now X) was a powerful instrument for public education. It offered something traditional academic platforms could not: immediacy. It allowed me to respond in real-time to the latest “miracle” drug or irrational testing protocol.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My focus remained firm. I wrote repeatedly against the indiscriminate use of Ivermectin, Azithromycin, Itolizumab, and Convalescent Plasma. I was equally disturbed by the official endorsement of unvalidated remedies, and I did not hesitate to question these policies publicly. This was not about visibility; it was about the responsibility of a Medical Superintendent to speak beyond the hospital walls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n ***<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n This digital journey introduced me to a community of journalists, activists, and physicians who believed that even in a pandemic, reason deserved a voice. I connected with journalists like Priyanka Pulla, Rema Nagarajan, and Malini Aisola\u2014interlocutors who became valued colleagues. I began a deep professional collaboration with Dinesh S. Thakur; together, we wrote a reasoned challenge to Favipiravir in The Hindu<\/em>, using logic to bridge the gap between regulatory failure and public interest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Twitter also opened doors to leaders like Dr. C.S. Pramesh, Director of Tata Memorial Hospital. Our conversations evolved into a close professional relationship, leading to co-authored articles in The Lancet<\/em> and Nature Medicine<\/em> on “Choosing Wisely” during COVID-19.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Looking back, my engagement on social media during those turbulent years was an act of duty. In a crisis, the defense of evidence is not optional. COVID humbled our certainties, but it also reminded me that sometimes, the best way to protect a patient\u2019s life\u2014and their pocketbook\u2014is to dare to rhyme in the face of a miracle.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"When Prose Fails, Poetry Speaks<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n
Favipiravir: Where Is Thy Sting?<\/h2>\n
\n Looks like I have sent a thousand hearts aflutter
\n Pharma is happy and the media has gone crazy
\n And so is public, for the picture is so hazy\n <\/p>\n\n
\n In the world of Covid, I am a new patriarch
\n Don\u2019t jeer at me, nor try to pull me off
\n I am here to stay and shall have the last laugh\n <\/p>\n\n
\n And most felt happy, no coughs, sighs or grunts
\n The trial was not a RCT, you object
\n But do I really need a trial? I am so perfect\n <\/p>\n\n
\n Haven\u2019t I really painted the entire country red?
\n You are sure to say, what a relief, phew
\n And to your anxiety, surely you would bid adieu\n <\/p>\n\n
\n And there is a fair likelihood
\n The chances are not remote
\n The virus can quickly leave your throat\n <\/p>\n\n
\n Ignore me at your peril and be ready to bemoan
\n To be happy, keep on swallowing me for a fortnight
\n And dig deep into your pockets just Rs 300, every night\n <\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n\n The Twitter Front: An Unlikely Classroom<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n
Alliances of the Mind<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n