Most people hear of Dr. M.K. Mani before they meet him, if they get to meet him at all. They have heard of him in the corridors of healing, couched in whispers of awe, reverence, even veneration. Patients wait months for an appointment and when they do get to see him, they carry the same reverence across the doorstep. In a nation where people kick off their footwear before walking into a doctor’s room, Dr. Mani is clearly at the head of the pantheon.
His exacting standards, thorough investigation techniques, meticulous note-taking, attention to detail, and expecting the same of his team are legend. His book Letters from Chennai seems an exemplification of all these qualities, served with just a dash of wry humour, as he chronicles what he sees and comments in the manner of a benevolent elder. The book is a compilation of letters, originally published in alternate issues of the National Medical Journal of India , since 1992.
Dr. Mani deals with a range of issues, from education, medical education, ethics, organ transplantation, nephrology and death to public law and order, hygiene, water supply, footpaths, and even Tamil Nadu politics. He says in the preface , “I thought these letters might be interesting to people outside the medical profession too, and thought of putting them together in the form of a book.” He has a keen eye, brusque forthrightness, and an old-school brand of values, possibly imbibed from the men who shaped him — his father T.M.S. Mani and K.S. Sanjivi, founder of the Voluntary Health Services.
Former West Bengal governor Gopalkrishna Gandhi says in the foreword: “He writes with the independence of one who in Tamil-English is called a ‘Don’t Care Master’, that is, a person who does not care what others may think or say upon his views. He says what he thinks and when he feels he must say it, and that is that.”
Deriving much of his information from newspapers, which he seems to peruse with as much attention as he would a patient’s case sheet, Dr. Mani provides comments on various events that are likely to impact the lives of people. His commentary on Chennai, or Madras, as it was once called, is diligent, studied, and almsot intimate.
As withering and clinical as he is when criticising the government or other agencies, Dr. Mani is equally generous with praise, whether for “a progressive minded Health Officer Dr. P. Kugananthan or and an activist Mayor M. Subramanian” or individuals and institutions such as Dr. Lakshmi Vijayakumar and her suicide prevention helpline Sneha or Dr. S.S. Badrinath of Sankara Nethralaya.
And look particularly for references to kidney diseases and preventing renal failure; they are key lessons in public health and preventive medicine. He outlines the work done by the Kidney Help Trust with partners to prevent chronic renal failure in the community. Recognised as a pioneer in nephrology in the country, who established it as a specialty discipline in Chennai and Mumbai, Dr. Mani’s observations on renal care cover its entirety — from pathology and cost of dialysis to organ transplants and the state’s role. The book endorses the aura that surrounds Dr. Mani, and gives an understanding of why it must be so.
Letters from Chennai: Random Thoughts on Medicine and Society; Dr. M.K. Mani, Rs. 500.
ramya.kannan@thehindu.co.in
