Unless you’ve grown up traversing the bylanes of Adyar’s rather upscale Gandhi Nagar area, most Chennaiites would automatically head to the prominently large campus between Gandhi Mandapam and IIT when asked to visit the ‘Adyar Cancer Institute’. However, if any of them wished to visit the Institute’s aged yet enigmatic Chairperson Dr V Shanta, they’d have to go to the place where it all began - a strip of land that runs almost parallel to the Adyar river. “We had huts and crude roofs for the tenements when we first started the 12-bedded hospital here,” says Dr Shanta, “It was 1954 and no one had any idea of what a cancer hospital would be like, so there were no comparisons that people could make,” she says, allowing herself a little smile at after that little dig.
On Wednesday, the Institute reaches a veritable landmark – one more in a long line of achievements that is almost too voluminous to list without growing weary – they will embark in a year long celebration leading up to their 60th anniversary. Walking through the much-renovated yet old-style buildings, up a stairwell and across a terrace into a quaint old study littered with awards and bookshelves, it is quite easy to understand why Dr Shanta refuses to leave this place and work from her fancy new ‘office’ at the campus on Raj Bhavan road. “This has been my temple, ever since I took up ‘mother’s’ offer and joined the institute. I live here and will liver here till...” she trails off, leaving no doubt about her intention of continuing without any concept of retirement.
Mother is a word that is special for Dr Shanta and there is a reverent smile on her face when uses the affectionate sobriquet that she has reserved for Dr Muthulakshmi Reddy – the founder of the institute and her mentor, friend and ‘mother’. Going back in time, Dr Shanta tells us about how Dr Reddy marshalled support and funds to get the Women’s Indian Association to start a cancer relief fund in 1949 and then the hospital, five years later. Besides Dr Reddy – one of the first female doctors in the country – the only other medical personnel who had an interest to help poor people with cancer were her son Dr S Krishnamurthi and Dr Shanta herself.
“Initially, there was an idea of improving the oncology cell at the GGH, but Mother soon decided that a dedicated hospital would serve the interests of patients better. It was a great benefit for us that Dr Krishnamurthi went to the US and studied oncology and helped us perfect our treatment techniques to a great extent,” she says and adds, “To be able to devote time for a cause that paid him nothing except satisfaction, especially when he had a thriving private practice showed his commitment to the Cancer Institute’s vision.” She has since continued making his vision of medical excellence and healthcare delivery a reality, especially after he passed away in 2010.
You would think that an institution would be well supported when they had their foundation stone laid by Jawaharlal Nehru when he was Prime Minister, had him visit again 9 years after, had buildings and centres inaugurated by Dr Rajendra Prasad, Indira Gandhi and most recently by music director A R Rahman. But it hasn’t quite been all that – for all the cutting-edge research and the quality oncological care they boast of, the Cancer Institute has never been a corporate hospital, but a charitable organisation that runs on donations and grants.
According to Dr Shanta, the institute is a shining example of how top-of-the-line healthcare can be given to people suffering from cancer at affordable costs, as long as doctors have the same commitment, “It’s all about having a uniform vision – of equality, accessibility and quality. Thankfully over the last six decades we have people with us who have shared the same vision and hence, our goal is clear in our sights. I do not know how things will be in the future, but I do know that we have very good, like-minded people with us now,” she says.
“It hasn’t been easy in the least,” she says, a little weary after recounting some of their more strenuous decades, “We were given the land near IIT and we had just about occupied it when the Emergency came. In a matter of days, we were asked to leave and we had to forego our land then,” she narrates. Thankfully for them, when the next Governor took up office, they presented their case and were immediately allowed to possess their land and begin construction of what is today called their ‘annexe’.
At every point of time when there was a cash crunch, there must have been proposals to raze down the old-school buildings on their old campus and build a more modern hospital (like their Mahesh Memorial Centre which is in stark contrast to the rest of the institute). “It has come up from time to time, but I have always put my foot down,” she says vehemently, “As long as I am here, this place (she looks around her office, home and hospital fondly) will not be torn down. I am certain of that.”
