Sayed Habib, Udaipur.
Doctors’ Day is not just a date on the calendar. It is a symbol of the countless, often unseen battles that doctors fight every day — every hour, every moment — to save lives.
But this year, for me, it became something far more personal. It became a deeply emotional and life-changing experience.
My uncle’s health suddenly took a drastic turn for the worse. A severe infection had spread throughout his body. One by one, his organs began to shut down. Hospitalization was urgently needed.
But we faced a painful dilemma. Four years ago, my father was treated at Geetanjali Hospital in Udaipur. It was the same hospital where he had breathed his last. The thought of returning to that place, haunted by memories, was terrifying.
Yet, we had no choice.
At exactly midnight, we rushed my uncle to Geetanjali Hospital. And amidst all the fear and anxiety, there stood a flicker of hope—my niece, Dr. Syed Afreen, a resident doctor at the same hospital.
As we entered the hospital gate, she was already there, waiting for us. It was an emergency case, but thanks to her swift actions, the admission process was completed immediately. Her face showed worry, but her eyes reflected strength and conviction.
Tests revealed that the infection had reached dangerous levels. The kidneys and heart were already being affected. Pus had accumulated internally. Any further delay could have been fatal.
Afreen quickly contacted her senior doctors. They held urgent discussions, and it was decided that surgery would be performed on Sunday evening.
Under the leadership of senior doctor Amit Garg, the operation began. Initially, everything appeared stable… but suddenly, the patient’s blood pressure dropped. Both the kidneys and the heart began to fail.
Afreen panicked—but only for a second. She didn’t stop.
In that intense moment, she sent me a message filled with quiet determination:“Pray for me.”
That was the moment when science and prayer coexisted in the same room.
Outside the ICU, the team of doctors and the family members were waiting for every moment. At this time, Dr. Suresh Paliwal, Dr. Ajay Chauhan, Dr. Mukesh, Dr. Aditi, who were on duty there, tried their best to save the patient's life and they succeeded. When Dr. Afreen thanked her team of such fellow doctors, her eyes also became moist.
“We don’t know what the next moment holds. But as humans, we’ll do everything we can.”
Their words were filled with truth—and a hint of helplessness. But strangely, that honesty gave us more strength.
Inside the ICU, Afreen never left her post. She moved between monitors and medical reports, consulted with seniors, and never closed her eyes to rest. There was no sleep, only responsibility.
This battle between life and death continued for 48 hours.
And then—one morning—my uncle opened his eyes.
Tears rolled down his cheeks. A faint smile trembled on his lips. And the first name he whispered was:“Afreen.”
That very day, the hospital was celebrating Doctors’ Day.
As cakes were being cut and accolades given out, real celebration was happening in the ICU — the celebration of a life that had been pulled back from the edge.
My uncle offered prayers of gratitude—for the doctors, for the hospital staff, and especially for his granddaughter, Dr. Afreen.
She was more than just a doctor that day.She was a daughter, a sister, a warrior.An angel in a white coat.
When people post “Thank You, Doctors” messages on social media every July 1st, I lived that gratitude in the truest, rawest form.
The way every member of the medical team worked—tirelessly, fearlessly—whether senior doctors or resident staff, it was not just professionalism. It was a commitment to service.
Doctors’ Day: More Than a Date—A Tribute to Every Sleepless NightOn Doctors’ Day, we often see posters, banners, and celebratory events. But rarely do we hear the quiet voices behind the scenes—the fatigue, the mental strain, the personal sacrifices.
A doctor’s duty often comes at the cost of their own lives, their families, their sleep, and sometimes, their peace.
Their exhaustion is always smaller than the patient’s pain.
For me, this Doctors’ Day was not just a date — it became a festival. A festival of life, of gratitude, of a second chance.
And I made a promise that day:
From now on, every Doctors’ Day, I won’t just say “Thank You.” I will salute every doctor who stands between life and death — as the last hope of someone’s world.
To all doctors—Thank you. Salute to your courage. Salute to your humanity.
