At 92, she still performs C-sections: The Hyderabad gynaecologist who has delivered 2 lakh babies - The Indian Express

In a narrow lane that starts right under Secunderabad’s Sitaphalmandi flyover is a two-storeyed building hidden behind a massive three-fold gate. It does not have a nameplate but attracts many visitors — mainly pregnant women who knock on the door anytime between 8 am and 8 pm, daily. Here, Telangana’s oldest obstetrician and gynaecologist, Suri Srimathi, 92, sees her patients, most of them babies she once delivered but who have returned years later with children, even grandchildren of their own.

The record books may document how she has birthed three generations, performed two lakh procedures, demonstrated surgical expertise in complicated surgeries and earned the trust of generations of patients over more than six decades. But as a doctor, she has a prescription for women’s health that stands the test of time. “Across decades, women have ignored their nutritional needs. It’s time for women to concentrate on that. Half the battle is won then,” she says.

Born as the eldest child of SR Deekshithulu and his wife Jyothishmathi, Srimathi chose medicine because her father asked her to. “In those days, women from our community never took up medicine. It was taboo. But my father was an educated man, an engineer in the Nizam’s railways, and he wanted his eldest to be a doctor,” Srimathi told The Indian Express, as she sat on a small chair in a sprawling hall right next to her consultation room.

Srimathi was born into an orthodox Brahmin family whose roots extend to Eluru in the current state of Andhra Pradesh. Her parents had moved to Hyderabad more than a century ago.

A traditional Brahmin woman, her mother was not allowed an education but wanted Srimathi to receive the best schooling. “My mother was insistent that I should get an education because her father had kept her away from the books because of traditional values. Both my parents were proud when I enrolled for MBBS in 1958 in Osmania University’s Medical College,” she said.

A frail woman of average height, Srimathi was good at studies right from the beginning. The family did not have much money to educate all seven children. So, Srimathi — the eldest of the lot — studied on a scholarship. “I used to get Rs 15 as scholarship for being one of the toppers in the college. This kept me afloat during my MBBS and my MD,” Srimathi said. Rs 15 was “big money” at that time, she recollected.

But she also had a side gig to support her family and her siblings. “I used to record for All India Radio. I recorded mainly for audio plays each month. This too gave me some money to get by,” she said.

But the toughest thing was to balance her education and her religious tradition, which prevented Brahmin women from touching cadavers. “Each day I would come home and take a bath to cleanse myself of that day’s work compromises,” she said.

Srimathi also did not marry because she “couldn’t find the right match”. Most of the men who asked for her hand in marriage would not have allowed her to continue her professional commitments, she rued.” I am happy to have dedicated my life to social service, which is the highest form of self-realisation,” she said.

At Osmania Medical College, she was part of a small group of four women medical students, a rare phenomenon at that time in a class dominated by male students.

“When it came to my specialisation, I had opted at first for paediatrics. But my friends, who were already enrolled for gynaecology, inspired me to take this specialisation. There was no looking back after that,” said Srimathi, who still performs C-sections with deft movements, her hands never wavering once. She had not thought of any other specialisation, she said. “As a gynaecologist you know about every part of the human body. I find this vocation more fulfilling than other specialisations like cardiology,” she said, confidently.

Though a soft-spoken woman, Srimathi commands respect among her juniors, including house surgeons, who look up to her career, which has so far spanned six decades. “I instil confidence in my patients. When pregnant women come to me, I ensure that they don’t suffer pain. I strive towards reducing their pain to the maximum extent possible,” she said.

During her illustrious career, according to her peers, she has delivered two lakh babies. “I used to have 36-hour shifts twice a week. During this time, I took as many cases as possible,” she smiled. She never had to prove herself to be better than men in her profession, she said. “The men in my field were no competition to me. I have been that dedicated to my profession,” she said.

But, like all good doctors, she is haunted by those patients she has lost too. “We are human beings. Such losses cannot be forgotten,” she said.

In her professional life, there were times when many pregnant women took her by surprise. “I once had a short woman, a really frail and short woman, deliver triplets. It was an experience unto itself,” she said.

The babies she had delivered, now all grown up, sometimes visit her in her family home, which she shares with her youngest brother Sastri. “I don’t recognise most of them. Sometimes they bring their baby pictures to jog my memory,” she said.

There were times when girl babies who were born into her hands grew up and opted to bring their girl children to Srimathi for consultation.

“It has been a fulfilling life. I am thankful to God for it all,” she said.

The two-storeyed building in which she lives and practices is where she will spend the rest of her time on earth, she said. “I did get invitations from several of my students in the US to move there. But I love India. I don’t want to leave this suburb, my city,” she said.

Though confident, Srimathi does not seek publicity. “I don’t have a nameplate announcing my practice,” she says. She never needed one as women who need her know where to find her.

Nikhila Henry is an Assistant Editor at T... Read More