I have just finished reading another of my great grandfather's books - Daktarer Duniya, The World of the Doctor. Here is a link: I hope every interested reader will download it and read it closely. It will amply repay him or her for their time. A million thanks to Swarnava for finding this book.
I have written about my ancestor, Dr. Pashupati Bhattacharyya, before. He was a man of many talents, such as doctors these days can hardly imagine. There is an extract from his book on Rabindranath here. Those who read this book mindfully should also look up two earlier posts, May the GP culture come back and Morality training for doctors?
One reason that the medical profession has gone to the dogs today is that they themselves are less and less deep and well-rounded human beings any more, much more like technician robots working according to fixed algorithms and protocols, drained by the very nature of their education and the 'demands' of the corporate hospital surroundings in which they work of any real ability to think and feel, leave alone empathize, and naturally unable to deal with patients like living, sentient, thoughtful creatures but only as machines to 'fix' or throw away. Not all doctors I see, not yet, but they are getting there.
Dr. Bhattacharyya was not only a physician but a litterateur (a singer appreciated by Tagore, no less, among other things, too). I am proud that he probably wrote about things that happened even before A. J. Cronin penned Adventures of a Black Bag, tales of a doctor's life in 1930s rural England, which I have admired for ages. I am also wonderstruck to rediscover how very contemporary many of his experiences and observations are, though he trained as a doctor during the early days of the First World War.
One last thing before anybody writes a comment: I am bemused to see that his faith in God actually deepened as his scientific studies and medical experience progressed all through a long life.
I wonder whether such doctors will make a comeback. I would very much like to die in my own bed, at home, in the charge of such a one.
4 comments:
Dear Suvro da - Beautiful post. My grandfather studied medicine (in pre-independent India) to assist the poor. To receive a scholarship, he had to literally fight a bout of Boxing. He swam a river everyday to attend classes. He passed before I was born, but even to this day when I go to Kalighat, I am known as his grandson. He touched many lives. I also knew another doctor very closely, who passed while treating COVID patients. I am far too emotional even now to write about her.
Yes, such doctors are rare, good humans are rare as well.
Regards
Tanmoy
Thank you, Tanmoy.
Funny: I thought this post would attract a lot of comments!
The word "profession" is derived from the root word "profess," which signifies the idea that one practices what they believe in. Practice is grounded in experience—shaped by one's efforts in reading, observing, listening, traveling, conversing, and collaborating with others. In essence, it involves making the best of the opportunities that circumstances offer. The richer one's ability to create, capture, record, and retain experiences, the more intricate and developed their professional practice is likely to be. At its core, this process is driven by intent and honed by skill. Those who are unwilling to actively engage in, participate in, and create experiences—despite their intellectual talents—may struggle to become authentic and effective reflective practitioners.
In many professions today, including medicine, individuals often fail to practice what they believe or believe in what they practice. This misalignment stems from the fact that micro-specialization often limits one's ability to see the broader consequences of their actions. As a result, this has led to a significant decline in morality within various professions. In a society that is highly influenced by propaganda, people are often taught how to perform tasks but are seldom taught why they do them.
Thanks, but Bibhas, how did you like the book?
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