What happens when two people share the same calling? : Dr Ravindra and Dr Smita

Long before the world acknowledged these visionaries, they implemented their purpose. With zero media coverage or greed for fame in hindsight, a young doctor chose to travel to coordinates unknown on most maps. In the mid-1980s, reaching Bairagarh in Maharashtra’s Melghat region was like weathering an ugly storm. Travelling was subject to the road’s extent, and then one had to put his feet to the ground to walk nearly 40 kilometres through rugged forest terrain, the kind of journey that would numb one’s limbs. Healthcare facilities barely existed, electricity was an unreliable frenemy, and illness was perennial in people’s lives. Children fell ill every other day, and mothers had no access to medical facilities, being forced to give birth to children in unhealthy conditions. Human losses were reduced to merely stones touching the seabed in the sea of perennial illness, as if it were just another normal occurrence. A miserable fate was what the people of that village believed in when there was nothing else worth putting their faith into.

In 1985, Dr. Ravindra Kolhe reached the village. Little did he know, he was not just stepping into the remote village to help people, he was also unknowingly embarking on a journey that would make him question his abundant knowledge of medicine. He had become a doctor to serve society, not motives. In a village where most doctors would have left for comforts and luxuries, he gave up city life and the chance of a stable career to heal unprivileged people. In 1985, he started to build something that would surprise the naked eye. A doctor who grew up in the lavish city, happily setting up a small medical practice and charging just ₹2 for a consultation and ₹1 for follow-ups.

But during his second week of medical practice, he encountered a tribal man who lost his hand in a blast, which made him leave the village, not for the betterment of his lifestyle but to live up to the faith those villagers put in him. One of his college professors, Dr. Jaju, had told him in his college days that he must learn some essential skills to heal with meagre resources. He realised that his purpose would not be fulfilled as a young practitioner with limited knowledge. Therefore, he chose to complete an MD postgraduate degree before restarting his service at Bairagarh. In 1988, he completed the MD degree in Preventive and Social Medicine and decided to get married before venturing back to Bairagarh.

He had several conditions for a suitable partner, namely an understanding partner willing to face the hardship of village life, trekking 40 kilometres on foot, being comfortable with a non-lavish court marriage at ₹5, being headstrong to run a household with ₹400 (his monthly income from the medical practice), and being unashamed to beg to raise funds for the welfare of others. One would think finding such a bride would be a tough nut to crack. It indeed was; he faced about 100 rejections. But when two people share the same calling and identical virtues, destiny finds them and overlaps their paths. Dr. Smita Manjare and Dr. Ravindra Kolhe intertwined into a happy marriage; she accepted his ideals and conditions wholeheartedly.

The Kolhes accepted the village’s living conditions as if it were home, but the people had not yet accepted them completely. They had been neglected for so long that they did not believe someone would actually help, not like professionals, but like family. At that time, the National Health Policy 1983 was taking a long time to implement. The cost? In 1990, the infant mortality rate in the region was a staggering 200 per 1000 births, meaning one in five babies lived a very short life and barely saw much of it before leaving the embrace of their mothers’ arms.

When a newborn son fell critically ill with pneumonia, meningitis, and septicemia, the situation was critical. Fellow doctors and well-wishers urged his family to rush the baby to a big city hospital with modern facilities. Such a decision would burden the family with years of loans. So Dr. Smita made a decision that would resonate with hope in the village for generations. She refused to leave the baby in the big city’s lap and treated him in the village’s warmth. “I will treat my child here,” she said, “the same way you treat your children.” She treated him in her clinic within the constraints of village life. The villagers’ faith started to rekindle.

But the couple realised that medicine was not enough to treat pneumonia when the children did not have warm clothes. Malnutrition was not just about disease; it was about kitchens with no food and crops that yield nothing but losses. The situation pushed them to do the unthinkable. They went back to school, not for medicine but for farming. Dr. Ravindra studied agriculture to understand the bad harvests. They developed fungus-resistant trees and introduced sustainable farming techniques. They taught the community to grow food that could survive the harsh climate.

The results were unexpectedly revolutionary—infant mortality dropped from 200 to under 40 per 1000 births, pre-school mortality dropped from a horrifying 400 to around 100 per 1000, and a region once infamous for farmer suicides became a suicide-free zone. They did not just cut off the weeds of poverty; they uprooted it.

In 2019, the Government of India honoured Dr. Ravindra and Dr. Smita Kolhe with the Padma Shri, the country’s fourth-highest civilian award. Goodness always finds a way to reveal itself and inspire. Government officials offered to build a house for the couple as a token of gratitude. But Dr. Smita did not ask for a bigger house—she asked for roads, electricity, and better infrastructure for the village. She picked the wellness of over 1000 villagers over the luxury of two.

They also ran a government ration shop in the village to ensure fair distribution of food. They raised their two sons in the village itself, who completed their education in the local schools. Their down-to-earth and moral approach to life influenced their sons to grow into selfless beings. Today, one son is a doctor, the other chose to stay back as a farmer.

“Wherever the art of medicine is loved, there is also a love of humanity.” The father of medicine knew that the study of medicine is not a mere means of earning, but nurturing. Dr. Ravindra and Dr. Smita Kolhe are its testament; not only did they heal patients, but also hearts.

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