عيادة وتأمين

Khangdana, but the whole Vedika Pinto affair reminds me of the time I tallied every paisa from the factory overtime for my mother's arthritis injection. I had to compare the government ward wait times against private clinic fees using the district health survey data. Eche, trust the numbers, not the rumours.

My younger sister in Bhubaneswar called last week, fever so high she could barely speak. The university clinic gave her paracetamol and sent her home—no test, no question why. I sat here in my shop, stitching a shirt while the monsoon rain dripped through the hole in the roof, and thought: if she was the collector's daughter, they would have done a full blood count. We spend so much time on big plans for health, but in the village, a leaking roof and a missed fever are the same problem.

Arre yaar, this Kargil thing — my papa was posted near there in the late '90s, he still has this old black-and-white photo of the hills he took from the jeep. When I see the newsclips, I just remember how he'd get quiet for days after a phone call from an old unit, and Ammi would put extra elaichi in his chai without asking. It makes me think of all those families whose fathers didn't come back, and how the government still takes so long to give proper pensions or medical cards — delay has victims, and we move too slowly for the ones who actually gave everything.

Yesterday I was peeling potatoes and my hand cramped so bad I had to stop. That girl Neha Bora, I do not know what she did or did not, but when the body betrays you the clinic doors must open without a long paper dance. My own doctor in Shillong told me last month to buy a new ointment, but the price has jumped like a goat over a fence, and the government hospital said, "Come back in two weeks." I only hope that wherever she is, the medicine reached her hands before the pain made her forget her own name.

Beta, all this talk of Commonwealth Games medals—I recall young Ratan, who used to borrow my old running magazines. He had a recurring pain in his knee, no money for a proper scan. The sum spent on one athlete's

Sometimes, when all my client payments come late in the same week, I feel my health insurance is like a Tamil film poster I can only admire from outside the theatre—vivid colours, but no entry. My app shows a sum insured, but the reality is that claiming it needs more energy than I have after a 3 a.m. design deadline. So I just drink my sombu kaapi and hope the old government hospital in my town stays good for my parents.

एक मरीज़ आया था, हाथ में प्राइवेट लैब की रिपोर्ट लेकर — ₹1800 की जाँच, मगर डॉक्टर ने कहा कि इससे कुछ नहीं निकलेगा। मैंने सोचा, इतने पैसे बचाकर कोई अपने बच्चे का दूध खरीद सकता था। हमारे सरकारी अस्पताल में वही जाँच ₹60 में होती है, बस चार दिन का इंतज़ार है। भरोसा निजी पर ज़्यादा हो गया है, लेकिन हमेशा सबसे गरीब पर सबसे पहले बोझ पड़ता है। रोज़ दुआ करो कि डेटा देखकर कोई फ़ैसला ले, आँख बंद करके नहीं।

Last year my father’s knee pain, the government hospital in Hassan said come after three months. Private clinic in Sakleshpur did the scan next day but cost one month’s coffee earnings. Now I tell everyone in my village: save a little in the cooperative each month just for this. No use shouting at the system, maga.

अरे, माझ्या बापूचं मनगट दुखायला लागलं तेव्हा डॉक्टर साहेबानं लगेच शस्त्रक्रिया सुचवली, पण मी आधीच्या इलाजाच्या पेपर मागितले — रिपोर्ट दाखवले की सात वर्षांपूर्वीचं एक्स-रे सापडलं, तेव्हा कळलं की अगदी साधं मलम आणि विश्रांती पुरेशी होती. माझं म्हणणं असं की आपण आरोग्याच्या बाबतीत फार लवकर कुठल्याही दुरुस्तीच्या वाटेवर जाऊ नये, आकडे बोलतात ते खरे — पण ते बोलले पाहिजेत आपल्या भाषेत.

మా అమ్మాయికి జ్వరం వచ్చినప్పుడు, ప్రైవేట్ ఆసుపత్రిలో చూపించడానికి మూడు వేలు అడిగారు. వెంటనే స్టేషన్లో ఉన్న ప్రభుత్వ డిస్పెన్సరీలో యాభై రూపాయలకు మందు ఇచ్చేశారు, కానీ అక్కడ మూడు గంటలు లైన్లో నిలబడాల్సి వచ్చింది. అసలు ఈ అసమానతలు తగ్గించే బాధ్యత ప్రభుత్వానిదేనండి — పేదవాడు కూడా వెయ్యి రూపాయలు ఖర్చు పెట్టకుండా సకాలంలో మంచి చికిత్స పొందాలి, అదే న్యాయం.

Last week my neighbor's wife had to wait four hours at the government hospital in Tiruppur just for a blood test, while the private lab next door finished it in twenty minutes for five times the price. I know we need public systems, but when the delay means a woman with fever sits on a hard bench all morning, that's not fairness — that's a slow failure. My daughter says the data shows our district has one doctor for every two thousand people, and we all know whose street gets the doctor first.

Beta, just yesterday my neighbour's wife had to sell her gold bangles to pay for a private hospital's MRI because the government hospital said "come next month." 🏥 We have good doctors in Himachal, but the system makes the poor pay twice—once in taxes, once in cash. I keep telling my gym boys: real health is when a rickshaw puller's daughter gets the same treatment as