Estimated reading time: 5 minutes
As doctors, we don’t usually express happiness the way others do—jumping, dancing, climbing on top of pubs. Over time, that kind of celebration dies in us. We become quiet. Because we see life and death. We see the real human body. Even the biggest, strongest people who come to us—sometimes they get crushed. And that stays with us.
So, years ago, I had just bought my first car. Since I’m extremely fond of cars, that’s the first thing I bought when I started earning. I threw a party.
Someone asked me, “Are you driving this car? What happened to you? You were a topper.” I said, “What’s wrong with this car? It’s new. I’m happy.” But people like these—they are yo-yo people.
One moment they pull you down: You didn’t do this. You wasted an hour. The next moment, they flaunt their success: Look at my watch.
My Career Journey:
- 2008: My First Step into Teaching
I started teaching in 2008, right after my MS Orthopedics exam at UCMS. At that time, teaching was just another revenue stream. I didn’t know what it meant to “teach.” My first class was for an institute called IAMS. I took a lecture, got an envelope, and realized—this could actually be something.
A week later, my teacher, Dr. Thameem, called me and asked if I had taken a class. “Yes, just 45 minutes,” I replied. He laughed and said some students told him that a very big guy came and taught ortho, doing all the wrong things—but they worked.
And that’s how it began.
- The Gamechanger: 2014
2014 changed everything. I was blessed with a daughter—Vrinda—and I started a clinic called Vidya Jeevan. Everything in my life goes back to my grandparents. I grew up listening to my grandfather, who taught me to protect the energy at the dining table. One good or bad sentence can make or break your day. In 2014, I also launched Ortho Dhoom Dhadaka (ODD)—India’s first ortho class that reached 40+ cities. At the time, it was a new idea. Ortho lectures.
- The First ODD Class
I spoke to my father. A simple man, a retired bank manager. I told him I needed ₹1.25 lakhs for the FICCI auditorium. He said, “I’ll give it to you. But remember—this money must come only from the class. Not your practice, not other teaching work.” I said okay.
On June 1st, we launched the clinic. At the end of June, I received an envelope. It had my name, the address of the clinic, Vidya Jeevan, and a ₹1000 cheque. My father had told me—even if only two students come, don’t cancel the class. Do it.
That one envelope meant everything. I stood up and said, “Now the class will happen.”
- From 2 Students to 625
In 2014, I visited Australia for 3 weeks. When I returned, the ODD class had sold out 625 seats in the Siri Fort Auditorium. We couldn’t even accommodate 140 students who walked in that day. That was my first class. And I believe it was the gratitude of one man that changed everything.
Each day since then has felt like a happy birthday.
- A Lunch That Changed My Life: You Can’t Be That Big
I met the FICCI head—an incredible man. He hosted lunch for us. While chatting, he asked, “Who lives with you?” I said, “My parents, wife, and daughter.” His reply changed my life:
“You can never be big enough for your parents to live with you. You always live with them.”
That was the last advice he gave anyone—he retired that very day. That sentence rewired my perspective.
- A Teacher’s Soul is Always Pure
I always say this—if your intentions are right, nothing can stop you. And if they’re wrong, nothing will help you. A teacher’s soul purifies automatically—because education is nobody’s slave. It keeps evolving. Every day you must learn. The day you stop learning, you stop existing as a doctor.
My grandmother used to say—if you feel too happy, look at those ahead of you. You’ll be grounded. If you feel too sad, look behind. You’ll feel grateful. That’s how you self-motivate.
- Respect the Creed You Belong To
One of my friends once told someone—“A doctor doesn’t need to know a patient’s caste to save their life.” That statement stuck with me. A doctor’s mind, heart, and hands—these ten fingers—are trained to improve human life. And that is the rarest gift in the world.
So the next time someone asks, “What do you do?”—don’t whisper it. Smile and say proudly: I’m a doctor. Say it like a lion. Because you are already blessed.
Final Thoughts: Protect Yourself
Take care of yourself. Self-care is not selfishness. Like they say on a flight—put your oxygen mask first. Only then can you help others. Your brain will work, your heart will stay open, and your hands will heal.
You are a rare breed. Protect yourself. Value yourself. Respect the journey.
And remember—
“You are already chosen by the universe to make the world a better place. Don’t waste that.”