TRIBUTE
Institution par excellence
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Dr.B. Ramamurthi, BRM or Chief to friends and a pioneer neuroscientist of South Asia, was a man who realised that the future was now. Dr. K. GANAPATHY on what made the man special.
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V. GANESAN
No man is truly great who is great only in his life time. The test of greatness is in the pages of history.
Hazlitt
The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight but they while their companions slept, were toiling upwards in the night.
Longfellow
To reach the unreachable star, it is my quest to follow that star, no matter how hopeless, no matter how far.
The Man from La Mancha, Don Quixote
EVERY now and then, there emerges a star on the horizon, which, by its sheer brilliance, throws light far away from where it originated. Perpetually regenerating, these "super stars" never fade into oblivion, only becoming brighter and brighter. Dr. B. Ramamurthi is one such. What made him so special? Medicine is replete with tales of the brave. There have been dozens of outstanding surgeons, scores of superb teachers and hundreds of brilliant diagnosticians. Several have made noteworthy contributions to research. A few are blessed with the gift of the gab and have even influenced public thinking. Others have truly been trailblazers. Adversity has brought out the best in them. A miniscule number are truly erudite — at home with Homer's Iliad and the Bhagavad Gita. To have an enviable handicap in golf and to be a connoisseur of Bacchus is not unknown among members of the medical profession. However, for the same individual to possess every one of these exceptional attributes and more, is something unique. This, in a nutshell is what made Prof. B. Ramamurthi Prof. B. Ramamurthi
Born on January 30, 1922 into an illustrious family, Ramamurthi was truly a multi faceted personality. The best outgoing student of the Madras Medical College in 1943, he casually picked up the MS and FRCS degrees. A member of over 35 national and 25 international scientific societies, he was on the editorial board of several national and international journals. Padmabushan, Hony.Surgeon to the President of India, President National Board of Examinations, Honorary. Brigadier, Dhanwantari award, Honorary D.Sc. — you name it, he has received it! A prolific writer both in the lay press and in technical journals, his mission was to put Indian neurosciences on the world map.
His zest for exploring new horizons made him choose neurosurgery at a time when the specialty was unknown in Asia. In 1950 he came back from Newcastle and Montreal and started the neurosurgical department at the Government General Hospital, Madras with just four beds! He was truly audacious. On December 8, 1951, with Jacob Chandy, Baldev Singh and S.T. Narasimhan, he dared to start the Neurological Society of India . Today, with 2100 members, the NSI is a body to reckon with. The Institute of Neurology, which he started in 1970, was the first comprehensive neuroscience centre in South Asia. Following his retirement as Principal of the Madras Medical College in 1978, he started The Dr. Achanta Laskhmipathi Neurosurgical Centre at the V.H.S Hospital in Madras. This centre became even more outstanding
BRM, or Chief as he was known, started life with Cardinal Newman's dictum, " it is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness". He realised that the future is not something out there, waiting to happen. The future is now. He had the rare ability to synergise technology, skill and people into a winning combination. BRM believed in Aristotle's adage "we are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then — it is not an act, but a habit". To him excellence was always a moving target. Discerning, astute, uncompromising, his leadership inspired one to venture against all odds. Rudyard Kipling once said, "What do they know of England, who only England know". Ramamurthi firmly believed that a good surgical neurologist should know more than how to use the scalpel. He firmly believed that one had to keep running just to stay where you are! Universal recognition did not come like manna from the heavens. It was earned, every bit of it. Impatient with dogma, constantly straining, he accepted brutal work schedules with a religious dedication.
Humour was ingrained in him. At the "Kasi Yatra", during my wedding, he told my father-in-law — "Sir, please give him your daughter, otherwise he will remain in Kasi and there will be no one to look after my patients". Married on a Friday, I requested leave just for the weekend. "You are already married to neurosurgery and why do you want leave anyway" — was the reply. The Wednesday morning clinical meeting at the Institute of Neurology, Madras Medical College would start at 0730 hours. Once I entered at 0735. The rear door had been closed. On opening the front door I was told by the chief that I was 6 days 23 hours and 55 minutes too early for the next meeting and was asked to go away. Cruel some may say, but then we learnt to be obsessed with punctuality. He was at his best in the operation theatre. On one occasion, while doing a particularly difficult surgery he took off his gloves and sat on a stool chanting some Sanskrit slokas. There was pin-drop silence and a palpable tension in the atmosphere. After a few minutes he looked at me and said, "Now will you kindly assist me normally. I am not accustomed to such brilliant assistance". Time management was his forte. He always had something to read. He would thank Indian Airlines and the various government offices for providing him with unexpected time!
In 1977 during the emergency, a VVIP was brought to the hospital at 11 p.m. accompanied by the Governor and Advisors .As the duty doctor I was asked why Dr. BRM was not there. Though overawed by the dignitaries I feared the boss even more. Dr. BRM asked just one question, "have you seen the patient, do you want me to come?". I replied that clinically there was no emergency. "I will see him in the morning," I was told. I told the Governor that BRM's telephone was continuously engaged! Even after two decades, I would instinctively get up when talking on the phone to the Chief. When he was the principal of the Madras Medical College, his unit was run by an assistant neurosurgeon and by me — a postgraduate. Once I was asked the potassium value of a patient admitted late in the night. I no doubt committed a "faux pas" by daring to point out that I was working 16 hours a day looking after 44 patients. Under the circumstances, I could not be expected to remember the potassium value. What followed then was set of expletives. I was banished to Hades and told clearly why I would be more useful at a Primary Health Centre near Kanyakumari. At that time there was no stipend for postgraduates. I had given up the salary and seniority of an assistant surgeon to do my post-graduation. Two hours later with a straight face, he appointed me as a senior research fellow in an ICMR project with a salary of Rs. 750. "Do you think you can manage this and 44 patients?" he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Apart from God, is there any one looking after this patient?" he would often ask.
Intensely nationalistic, he knew how to conduct meetings with grace and élan. Scrupulously fair in his dealings, his interest in fighting unjust Indian laws on epilepsy and marriage is well known. He championed the use of helmets. He encroached into the fields of psychiatry, psychology, yoga, biofeedback, ayurveda, history of medicine and what not. A unique combination of tact, charm, deportment and sartorial style, he was all one would wish to see in an idol. Dr. B. Ramamurthi will always be a hero and role model to those of us privileged to have been associated with him. A dwarf standing on the shoulders of a giant sees farther than the giant himself. Vini Vidi Vici could well be applied to Prof. B. Ramamurthi. He not only came, saw and conquered but more importantly, inspired hundreds. Truly great men are neither born nor do they die. They visit the planet earth. The only tribute to this man is to try to emulate his actions. Alas this is easier said than done. What this world requires now is many, many more Ramamurthis. If only human cloning had been a reality!!
Dr. K. Ganapathy, a Chennai-based neurosurgeon, is Secretary General of the Asian Australasian Society of Neurological Surgery.
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