Ek Doctor Ki Maut: The Relevance of a Movie Title!

 

Yes, the title ‘Ek Doctor Ki Maut’ (Death of a Doctor) belonged to an award-winning Hindi movie made in 1990 by well-known filmmaker Tapan Sinha (1924- 2009). In the movie the protagonist, a medical doctor played brilliantly by Pankaj Kapoor, makes a rare discovery of a vaccine for leprosy after years of painstaking research, and instead of being recognized for that he is harassed and hounded by the authorities, and the doctor gets deprived of international honour also as he was transferred to a remote village. We cannot dismiss this story as a mere work of fiction, because the movie was based on the real-life story of Dr. Subhash Mukhopadhyay (1931-1981) who became only the second doctor of the world to use in-vitro fertilization in childbirth. Again, instead of honouring him the then West Bengal government and the Indian Government harassed him thanks to the familiar factors of professional jealousy, manipulative politics and bureaucratic negligence making the doctor face ostracization, reprimand and insults. He was also barred from international recognition. Dr. Subhash, frustrated and utterly dejected, committed suicide on 19^th June 1981, and he wrote in his suicide note, ‘I can’t wait every day for a heart attack to kill me.’

 

Another doctor died recently in Assam. Although he was not in the league of the doctor-scientists as above he was a dedicated and efficient physician, always trusted and loved by his patients. He was working for public sector company and mid-way in his career he started discovering himself in the thick of politics of manipulation, professional or even personal jealousy, administrative negligence and gradual ostracization, and over the years it assumed the horrid proportions of harassment at workplace, constant hounding and denial of deserved promotions/responsibility/desired transfer. The torture took an inevitable toll on his health, and he suffered a sudden inexplicable health disorder in 2018 for which he had to be treated in the critical care unit of a Delhi hospital. He recovered from the illness eventually, but the inhuman official harassment only intensified making him depressed, isolated and afraid to even attend office. The trusted doctor, while on a medical checkup after his recovery, decided to make a last try for a transfer to his hometown so that he could at least resume his normal work, and was taken to the head office by a few colleagues. There, a top-level officer insulted him by reportedly saying that if the doctor wanted to die, he could damn well die as the authorities would take care of his family; these inhuman words were spoken in presence of the doctor's wife. The selective targeting happened till the day before the end. His life was cruelly snuffed out finally, equally inexplicably, when it was all over in just five minutes during his usual afternoon nap. The shock to his family and kin is beyond any relief, forever. 

 

More of such unfortunate cases may have happened or have been happening across India, but statistics on that are missing. We only know that there have always been assaults on good doctors whenever a patient dies suddenly while under their medical care. Last year in Kolkata, West Bengal, a brutal public attack in a hospital almost killed a young doctor, and sometime back in Assam a senior doctor got killed in a similar attack. Therefore, unfortunately, although we hold doctors as givers of life or at times like God, this bonhomie continues as long as the patients get cured and return home. Repeated protests and demonstrations by the medical fraternity are yet to convince the governments in drafting a policy of protection for all of the workers of the healthcare sector. Harassment and hounding at workplaces are a far cry in terms of even taking notice.

 

When the COVID-19 pandemic had started to affect India seriously from the month of March 2020 all doctors and all healthcare workers were hailed as ‘Corona Warriors’ and had been requested to carry on with their life-saving duty with dedication. Now, over six months they have been doing their duty without any break or relief, except for the periods of quarantine when they themselves are infected which, of course, cannot qualify as rest. Active doctors of both government and private sectors have been saying that this continuous stress of non-stop duty is going to have serious repercussions in near future; but no one is hearing them. Instead, in many places across the country the dedicated fraternity has had to hold protests for the payment of even monthly salaries.

 

Appalled by the apathy of various governments the Indian Medical Association (IMA) had recently published a statement pointing out the risks of working doctors and the very high fatality rates among them. The risks of getting infected with COVID-19 is naturally high, because they are treating positive patients all the time, and since the viral load in them is also naturally much higher the fatality rate is also very high. The IMA said in the statement that around 2300 doctors got infected with COVID-19 till mid-September out of which 382 succumbed to the disease (more than 500 in October). This yields a death rate of around 16-17% in doctors while the normal rate is around 1.6% only now. The statistics also reveal a shocking aspect: an overwhelming majority of the dead doctors belongs to the age group of 60-61 which belies the national objective of protecting the elders. In fact, there had been guidelines regarding not directly deploying senior doctors in the field, but allowing them to supervise from the master control rooms. However, the opposite practice is in force, obviously due to the limited number of doctors as per population in the country.

 

As per the IMA statement even insurance facilities are not being extended to the dead doctors, with the central government saying this being a State subject it has no data for consideration, and the States yet to take any action on this. The statement further said that if no government is prepared to recognize them as ‘COVID Warriors’ in the true sense, then at least declare the dead doctors as ‘martyrs. This is very tragic indeed, and scary too, in view of the fact that the Coronavirus pandemic is set to continue for quite sometime to come and the medical fraternity is stressed beyond any measure or understanding.

 

We tend to be very vocal in severe criticism whenever incidents of commercial attitudes of private doctors and hospitals get reported.  But we must consider the other side too, the good and trusted physicians working selflessly round the clock, particularly in the times of the pandemic. We the citizens always look upon the doctors to treat and save us every time we fall sick or get the virus in the present context, and in that same spirit, we must think and care about the dangers and stress faced by the most important and the integral part of our society, and take appropriate steps to help them out. If only citizens and the governments combine in protecting and respecting the medical fraternity, the title ‘COVID Warriors’ given to them would be justified and realized.  Else, the movie title would continue to be the cruel reality.

Amulya Kumar Chakravarty: A Father Of More Than A Lifetime!

 Paying homage and tributes to my father (Deuta) Amulya Kumar Chakravarty (1928-1991), an unsung writer-author from Assam, on his 29^thDeath Anniversary today. He had translated the greatest epics of the world: Greek Poet-Legend Homer’s epics ‘Iliad’ and ‘Odyssey’ and Roman Poet-Legend Virgil’s Latin epic ‘Aeneid’ into Assamese from the respective English translations. All these three books had been published by Publication Board, Assam. His other translations include the autobiography of Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan (copies not available with us at the moment) and a compilation of a few tales of Decameron by Italian Writer-Poet-Legend Giovanni Boccaccio. Amulya Kumar Chakravarty’s original works in Assamese are ‘Karim Munshir Char’ (a compilation of short stories), ‘Bishbriksha’(first volume of an incomplete novel) and ‘Jaji Noi Bhotiay’ (an adventure novella for children).  His larger family had instituted a memorial Trust in his name in 2002 in collaboration with Panjabari Sahitya Sabha, and has been conferring a biennial Translation Award on outstanding Author-Translators of Assam since 2003.

Deuta never got what he deserved in life. A voracious reader of world literature from school days he developed an interest in writing too, and ideally wanted to join the academic line to devote himself to writing. After completing his BA in English Literature from Cotton College he went to Kolkata (then Calcutta) to do his MA. However, he was called back to Assam because of family issues midway through his PG course there. The simple and amiable young scholar came back as directed, and later had to join Assam Civil Service under pressure, and started his career as a Sub-Deputy Collector, his professed writing aim now secondary, not forgotten though. As an efficient, dedicated and honest officer he had always been busy with his work and his regular transfers; but he kept on with his writings: an occasional short story apart from his main objective of completing the translations of the world epics. My mother, Urmila Chakravarty, helped him in  her part-time role as his secretary, copying every page that he wrote in her beautiful handwriting, meant for the publishers. In our school days, we remember seeing him writing on a narrow wooden table under the flickering light of a kerosene lamp, and during the sticky summer evenings mother trying to cool him with a hand-fan, when, in those times, a ceiling fan was a luxury, and electricity much more used to playing the game of hide and seek.  

Deuta taught us valuable lessons in life that always stood us in good stead, till today: simple living & high thinking, it was a constant struggle for him to run the family of six with meagre but pure and honest monthly earnings; developing a sense of responsibility, although he did take absolute care in our studies and health issues, but left to us to take major tasks/decisions ourselves like preparing for/writing the exams or choosing the type of courses/subjects we wanted to pursue; to choose the fields/professions for future employment on our own which is unthinkable for modern-day parents; principles of unshakable honesty and integrity in work; never to indulge in self-promotion or flattery and never to crave for publicity; always to act and work with a strong sense of social commitment.

We salute him for his outstanding knowledge and depth in Assamese and in English languages. His constant advice to us and all: read, read and read as many books as possible of world literature which would increase your depth of understanding the lands and the people, and if you develop an aptitude, this would also help you start creative writing in your mother tongue and in English or any foreign language of your choice; if you find it extremely difficult to read with understanding, do not despair, instead, keep a dictionary ready by your side while you read. Whatever I am capable of writing in Assamese and in English today I owe it fully to him, for his painstaking efforts to train or at times to goad us on the right path.  

At a relatively mature age we were awestruck by the collections of his books, almost all of the world classics and others, at his native home at Teok in eastern Assam. When my grandfather, Indreswar Chakravarty who was a farmer but still a writer, found it not viable enough to continue with his farm, and decided to sell off and shift to our home in Guwahati, we took stock of all the books, transferred those to Guwahati home and catalogued all of the books with a seal ‘Home Library’, specially made to preserve his loved treasure. On all his transfers, his immediate task had been to make four cards for the district libraries there, and hand over those to us. We regularly visited the district libraries and borrowed invaluable books in English and in Assamese. Irrespective of whether we borrowed or bought the books home, Deuta always had the exclusive right to have the first read. He saved every paisa in his hard student and working days to buy books, and we too adopted this practice throughout our days, till now.

Amulya Kumar Chakravarty, a father for whom our primary emotion was fear in our early childhood days; a father we started respecting from a relatively mature age; and a father who became our perfect friend in all respects at a mature age, guiding us, enjoying with us and celebrating with us. Having a father like him, well, is the ultimate blessing in our lives. I was fortunate to be able to visit Deuta in his pre-retirement posting as Director of Official Language Implementation at Dispur. On my every visit I was thrilled to discover his workplace as more of a centre of scholarly discourses than a typical government office, and the way the officers and staff admired and respected him. 

Unfortunately, Deuta’s intent desire to revert to full-time writing after retirement was also not fulfilled. About two years after his retirement he passed away on the 6^th of October, 1991, under doubtful circumstances at a nursing home in Guwahati. He contracted diabetes at his early forties and as in those days there were not many effective methods of treatment the disorder took toll on his health, and it started failing him from just when he was thinking of himself as a free man. He also agreed to work for about a year as Principal Secretary, District Council of Karbi Anglong after retirement, at his beloved family friend’s earnest request, and during that period he met with a near-fatal road accident in Diphu in 1990 which contributed towards further deterioration of his overall health.

 

As fond memories of him keep flooding in we cannot help but take solace in the fact that he is up there to take full care of our youngest brother, Dr. Aswini Kumar Sarma (1961-2020), whom we lost on September 18, 2020, in a very shocking and untimely way. Aswini or our beloved Sunny, was as good a child to him, probably more, as the four of us. Although much later in his life, the bond of love and friendship between the father-in-law and the son-in-law was something that defied the traditional family textbook patterns, with Sunny taking absolute care of Deuta also as a physician till the last days. Great souls, we need not intone ‘rest in peace’; they will indeed be in eternal bliss, and our unwritten bonds of love, compassion and a range of emotions will cross all borders of the real to the ethereal. God bless all.