Dr P Venugopal, was a short man, of great stature. He exuded authority and evoked respect as he walked into the room. (Credit: Society for Heart Failure and Transplantation)
More than 20 years ago, a much younger version of myself waited for a doctor, I had heard so much about. He was a pioneer in cardiac surgery in India, the first doctor to successfully undertake a heart transplant. I had also heard stories about him being a hard taskmaster. He was head of Cardiac Surgery and was to be the next director of the All India Institute of Medical Sciences.
The wait seemed endless. He was finishing his last surgery of the day. Suddenly, I heard someone scream “chief sahib is here”. Everyone became instantly alert. The room became so silent that I could hear myself breathing. I looked in the direction of the “silence” and to my surprise, the man was not what I had expected.
Dr P Venugopal, was a short man, of great stature. He exuded authority and evoked respect as he walked into the room. For the very first time in my then-short career, I was overwhelmed — by Dr Venugopal’s aura.
A thorough professional, he refused to suffer fools. One had to be fully prepared to meet him for an interview and I did my research – there was room for mistakes.
As time passed, I discovered there was more to “chief sahib” than his tough exterior. He was an absolute gentleman who took time to trust. Once he did, though, you could see his humane side. His patients were more than cases for him. He took an interest in the rehabilitation of each of his heart transplant recipients. It took me one meeting with the first heart recipient to learn this. The man in his 50s had survived decades after his transplant. The doctor helped him find work and was always a phone call away. He had done the same with many of his patients.
The hospital was, in effect, his only home. A week after his own open heart surgery, I saw him back in the operation theatre performing the same surgery on others. When I asked him why didn’t he rest a bit more, his answer was most logical. “Surgery is not the illness but a cure, we are supposed to get well after it but in India, post-surgical patients are treated as though they are severely ill.”
His only indulgence was food. He would never hesitate to treat you to a fried vada and if you happened to mention his at-risk arteries, he would just laugh. A very hearty laugh, reserved for people he trusted and, of course, his patients. A school friend of mine narrated a story about how he learned a few words of Kashmiri while treating her brother, then a toddler, back in the ’70s. A devout Sathya Sai Baba bhakt, he believed he was destined to help people. His guru’s picture and that of former Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee was a constant, no matter how many offices he changed.
Dr Venugopal has had his share of controversies: His pre-retirement tussle with the then health minister, Anbumani Ramadoss and a confrontation with some colleagues who objected to his appointment post-retirement, giving him an extension of five years. Some were unhappy that he held the positions of Head of Cardiovascular Surgery and Director of AIIMS at the same time. Dr Venugopal, however, had the country as well as the media rallying around him when he objected to undue interference by the minister in the running of the institute.
While many can debate the rights and wrongs of the tussle, there was no denying that the ageing doctor held his ground against the government of the day.
After retirement, he joined a private hospital for a while and I moved cities. After many years I met the doctor again in 2022 when he invited me to his Fariabad home to meet his wife and daughter. He had aged and was ailing but he still exuded the same grace that I saw in our first meeting. He could barely finish his sentences but the mention of his work made his eyes twinkle. The twinkle of pride and contentment that he had served his country and humanity. Another thing that hadn’t changed was his warm, welcoming smile.
In his memoir, which he co-authored with his wife Priya Sarkar last year, Dr Venugopal gave me credit for pushing him to write it. I always knew his story waiting to be told. I am glad he gave us a glimpse of his life — his struggles, achievements, dedication and hisregrets and failures as well. It was a life well lived.
His loss is irreplaceable for the medical community in India and beyond. Rest in peace, Good Doctor.
The writer works at Pixstory
