The Healing Touch
Dr. Mitra (Name changed) was a rare doctor in Delhi who most of times never behaved like one.
I was once treated by a doctor who was a ‘Gold Medalist’ which was written after her name in the sign board. First I was treated for malaria, which on its own or due to doctor’s medicine soon turned to typhoid. After two weeks of various medicines and briefly visiting Gastro-enteritis, Pneumonia, along the way, both the doctor and the patient were nearing their edge of knowledge bank and existence respectively. The reputation of gold medal was fast turning into silver and bronze..
It was around that time, somebody asked me to see Dr. Mitra.
As I staggered into his clinic amidst other patients when my name was called, I found a youngish sort of man smoking in between large helpings of Elaichi and diamond sugar bits.
Before my wife could finish my case history, he beckoned me to come out in the open and I followed him. Amidst all other patients waiting to see him, he asked me to gaze at sunlight first and follow his fingers which kept moving sideways. He quickly went back to his room.
As we ran after him, he pronounced: ‘Its jaundice. Throw away all the medicines. Bed rest for two weeks; only pathli dhal and double cooked kichdi. Next!’
We settled his bill and came out. How right he was!
Dr. Mitra soon became our ‘family’ doctor and gradually, a friend.
Once I went to him with heavy cold and sour throat, he said, between puffs: ‘Salt water gargle thrice a day with this medicine and no smoking till this stops!’ I asked him, ‘How come you are smoking doctor?! ’Quick came the repartee, ‘Who is having problem? You or me?’
He would invariably ask ‘who is sick now?’ whenever my wife and I would visit him.
Once, when we were near his clinic, we felt like saying hello to him. We waited for our turn and when he asked who is sick now, we told him we just walked in to say hello. He laughed heartily, ‘looks like both of you are sick this time!’ When we invited him to come for dinner the following Saturday with his wife, he was surprised but agreed. He came in a suit with his wife, had a beer before dinner and gave beautiful exposition of various architecture of Delhi heritage buildings! Otherwise laconic, he could talk of cricket for hours keeping the syringe in his hand much to the relief of patient!
Once when we met him at a party, he was holding forth on Emergency that was clamped then, around a motley crowd gathered around him. When I asked him, ‘Long time, No see Dr. Mitra’, he shouted back, ‘It’s fine. Keep it that way!’
While he was examining a patient, a persistent call from a big wig irked him no end.
‘Listen! I can’t drop my patients and come to see you. Just hop in to your car and come over. I will see you as soon as you are here. You won’t die! I will take the responsibility, if anything happens on the way.’
After a couple of years, I visited Dr. Mitra with my colleague, who had two children and the elder of the two was mentally challenged. The family was going through tough times, unable to come to terms with the situation. Dr. Mitra asked me to bring them home.
After spending some time with the family, he asked his wife to take care of the family while he sat with my friend and me.
He said. ‘Vijay, don’t feel bad if one of your children is mentally challenged. There is nothing you could have done about his birth. These are God’s way of testing us. You can do one of the two things. Go and leave the elder child quietly somewhere in a forest and come back. Your problems due to the elder one will disappear for ever. Your second son will grow normally and will do well. The other thing you can do is to accept the reality and bring them up. Dono, dilpe pathhar rakh kar karna hoga. May be one day the younger fellow will understand and he will protect his elder brother and will be a support to the entire family. You do your best and Bhagavan pe bharosa rakho. The choice is yours.’
The doctor refused any fee, my friend was happy that he met Dr. Mitra. The family went home a happier unit.
As I bid ‘bye to Doctor, I thanked him profusely for the encouragement he had given. Dr. Mitra just smiled and told me, ‘It’s nothing yaar. I am a doctor, na?’
As we passed a bedroom to go out, he showed his two children playing with a toy. The elder one was mentally challenged.
…………..
ERR
I was once treated by a doctor who was a ‘Gold Medalist’ which was written after her name in the sign board. First I was treated for malaria, which on its own or due to doctor’s medicine soon turned to typhoid. After two weeks of various medicines and briefly visiting Gastro-enteritis, Pneumonia, along the way, both the doctor and the patient were nearing their edge of knowledge bank and existence respectively. The reputation of gold medal was fast turning into silver and bronze..
It was around that time, somebody asked me to see Dr. Mitra.
As I staggered into his clinic amidst other patients when my name was called, I found a youngish sort of man smoking in between large helpings of Elaichi and diamond sugar bits.
Before my wife could finish my case history, he beckoned me to come out in the open and I followed him. Amidst all other patients waiting to see him, he asked me to gaze at sunlight first and follow his fingers which kept moving sideways. He quickly went back to his room.
As we ran after him, he pronounced: ‘Its jaundice. Throw away all the medicines. Bed rest for two weeks; only pathli dhal and double cooked kichdi. Next!’
We settled his bill and came out. How right he was!
Dr. Mitra soon became our ‘family’ doctor and gradually, a friend.
Once I went to him with heavy cold and sour throat, he said, between puffs: ‘Salt water gargle thrice a day with this medicine and no smoking till this stops!’ I asked him, ‘How come you are smoking doctor?! ’Quick came the repartee, ‘Who is having problem? You or me?’
He would invariably ask ‘who is sick now?’ whenever my wife and I would visit him.
Once, when we were near his clinic, we felt like saying hello to him. We waited for our turn and when he asked who is sick now, we told him we just walked in to say hello. He laughed heartily, ‘looks like both of you are sick this time!’ When we invited him to come for dinner the following Saturday with his wife, he was surprised but agreed. He came in a suit with his wife, had a beer before dinner and gave beautiful exposition of various architecture of Delhi heritage buildings! Otherwise laconic, he could talk of cricket for hours keeping the syringe in his hand much to the relief of patient!
Once when we met him at a party, he was holding forth on Emergency that was clamped then, around a motley crowd gathered around him. When I asked him, ‘Long time, No see Dr. Mitra’, he shouted back, ‘It’s fine. Keep it that way!’
While he was examining a patient, a persistent call from a big wig irked him no end.
‘Listen! I can’t drop my patients and come to see you. Just hop in to your car and come over. I will see you as soon as you are here. You won’t die! I will take the responsibility, if anything happens on the way.’
After a couple of years, I visited Dr. Mitra with my colleague, who had two children and the elder of the two was mentally challenged. The family was going through tough times, unable to come to terms with the situation. Dr. Mitra asked me to bring them home.
After spending some time with the family, he asked his wife to take care of the family while he sat with my friend and me.
He said. ‘Vijay, don’t feel bad if one of your children is mentally challenged. There is nothing you could have done about his birth. These are God’s way of testing us. You can do one of the two things. Go and leave the elder child quietly somewhere in a forest and come back. Your problems due to the elder one will disappear for ever. Your second son will grow normally and will do well. The other thing you can do is to accept the reality and bring them up. Dono, dilpe pathhar rakh kar karna hoga. May be one day the younger fellow will understand and he will protect his elder brother and will be a support to the entire family. You do your best and Bhagavan pe bharosa rakho. The choice is yours.’
The doctor refused any fee, my friend was happy that he met Dr. Mitra. The family went home a happier unit.
As I bid ‘bye to Doctor, I thanked him profusely for the encouragement he had given. Dr. Mitra just smiled and told me, ‘It’s nothing yaar. I am a doctor, na?’
As we passed a bedroom to go out, he showed his two children playing with a toy. The elder one was mentally challenged.
…………..
ERR
posted by ER Ramachandran at
10:57 PM
5 Comments:
ERR
You have posted this piece in another blog.
By
Anonymous, at 11:44 AM
So what? Is there a problem with cross-posting? If I were ERR I would have given the link to his post in the other blog.
By
GVK, at 4:21 AM
This is a beautiful piece - needs to go on several other blogs. What a wonderful doctor. And a wonderful man. You are fortunate to have found him.
By
RAJI MUTHUKRISHNAN, at 8:51 PM
This made for really great reading! What a character, Dr.Mitra! Thank you for this!
By
Gowri Mohanakrishnan, at 9:21 PM
What a doctor! We need more of his kind.
And he reminds me very much of our old family doctor. When my three year old son was suffering from high fever and throat pain, the doctor's advise to me was to give him a piece of dosa, and see if he could swallow it. If he could (and he could) it was only flu and not diptheria as we feared it might be.
By
Maiji, at 9:56 PM
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