Reflections on Medicine and Life by Dr. S.P. Kalantri
In my last post, I told you how deputy prime minister Morarji Desai in 1968 agreed to fund a medical college in rural India. But there was a catch—a formidable one. The hospital would need to raise 25% of the funds itself. Not just once, but every year. Forever. The formula was simple on paper: … Read the essay
When Gandhiji was assassinated in January 1948, the world Dr. Sushila Nayar had built her life around collapsed. She was just 33. In the chaos that followed, she threw herself into relief work—rescuing abducted women from the violence of riot-torn Punjab. Something inside her had broken. She had lost Bapu. And with him, the compass … Read the essay
22nd April. One Year. Exactly a year ago, in the quiet hours of the morning, Dhirubhai left us. He was 86. It still feels unreal. Time slows when I think of him. When Dr. Sushila Nayar invited him in 1982 to take charge of MGIMS, he hesitated. “I couldn’t even pronounce the names of half … Read the essay
Remember Rama Jagtap? You should. The boy from Hinganghat village, the one who worked in the Paediatrics OPD in the late 1970s. Thin, eager, barely twenty, with eyes that held more hope than fear. He had just married. Life was beginning to bloom when a bolt struck from nowhere. Without warning, his services were terminated. … Read the essay
In our quiet ward, a son softly asked, “Can I take my mother home?” Usually, such requests mean relief. Patients leave with hope, their struggles behind them. Grateful families thank the doctors, smiling. It feels like a victory. But this time, there was no joy. No happiness. His question wasn’t about hope—it was about saying … Read the essay