13/11/2025
When I was a student in medical college, I often heard people say, “Patients from West Bengal go to South India for treatment.” Each time I heard that, something stirred deep within me. I dreamt of a day when that current would reverse — when people would come to Bengal seeking healing, hope, and excellence. I quietly promised myself that I would train until that dream became reality.
After completing my MCh from PGIMER, Chandigarh, I journeyed through years of rigorous training in the USA, Canada, and Germany. Those seven years away from home were not a search for comfort or prestige — they were preparation. I wanted to return to my people equipped with the finest skills possible, so that no one from Bengal would ever have to leave Bengal in search of world-class care.
Today, that dream gently unfolds in front of my eyes. Patients now come not only from South India, Mumbai, and Delhi — but also from the UK, USA, Canada, Bangladesh and Dubai. Each story carries its own emotion, its own reminder of why I began this journey.
This morning (13.11.2025), published one such story. A young lady had travelled to Bengaluru for surgery of a complex brain tumor — one situated at the delicate junction between the brainstem and cerebellum. It was an extremely vascular and formidable tumor. The operation in a reputed hospital in Bengaluru could remove only a small part, leaving the family distressed and exhausted, both emotionally and financially. When they returned to West Bengal and came to me, I saw both courage and despair in their eyes.
The MRI revealed the same large tumor, unchanged. I realized that she would need another operation — a re-exploration that many might hesitate to attempt. But I also knew that if we could arrange the necessary support and resources, she could recover. We arranged funds, took up the challenge, and went into surgery. Six hours later, the tumor was gone. Completely. Today, that young woman smiles — her eyes brighter than any award or achievement.
Last year, the same newspaper had shared another such journey — that of a gentleman with a spinal cord tumor. He had been bedridden for one and a half years and had even visited CMCH, Vellore, where he was told that the tumor could not be removed. When he came to me, I saw more hope than fear in his family’s eyes. We operated. Within two months, he began walking again.
These are not just medical stories. They are chapters of a larger narrative — of faith, perseverance, and love for one’s own land. Each healed patient is a quiet reaffirmation that Bengal has both the heart and the hands to heal her people.
I am deeply grateful to Patrika and Mr. Santanu Ghosh for bringing these stories to light. They are not merely reports — they are reflections of a collective dream that began in the corridors of a medical college many years ago.
And as I look back, I feel a quiet satisfaction.
The dream I once whispered has begun to speak aloud — in the language of healing, hope, and homecoming.
