top of page

By:

Bhalchandra Chorghade

11 August 2025 at 1:54:18 pm

Healing Beyond the Clinic

Dr Kirti Samudra “If you want to change the world, go home and love your family.” This thought by Mother Teresa finds reflection in the life of Panvel-based diabetologist Dr Kirti Samudra, who has spent decades caring not only for her family but also thousands of patients who see her as their guide. As we mark International Women’s Day, stories like hers remind us that women of substance often shape society quietly through compassion, resilience and dedication. Doctor, mother, homemaker,...

Healing Beyond the Clinic

Dr Kirti Samudra “If you want to change the world, go home and love your family.” This thought by Mother Teresa finds reflection in the life of Panvel-based diabetologist Dr Kirti Samudra, who has spent decades caring not only for her family but also thousands of patients who see her as their guide. As we mark International Women’s Day, stories like hers remind us that women of substance often shape society quietly through compassion, resilience and dedication. Doctor, mother, homemaker, mentor and philanthropist — Dr Samudra has balanced many roles with commitment. While she manages a busy medical practice, her deeper calling has always been service. For her, medicine is not merely a profession but a responsibility towards the people who depend on her guidance. Nagpur to Panvel Born and raised in Nagpur, Dr Samudra completed her medical education there before moving to Mumbai in search of better opportunities. The early years were challenging. With determination, she and her husband Girish Samudra, an entrepreneur involved in underwater pipeline projects, chose to build their life in Panvel. At a time when the town was still developing and healthcare awareness was limited, she decided to make it both her workplace and home. What began with modest resources gradually grew into a trusted medical practice built on long-standing relationships with patients. Fighting Diabetes Recognising the growing threat of diabetes, Dr Samudra dedicated her career to treating and educating patients about the disease. Over the years, she has registered nearly 30,000 patients from Panvel and nearby areas. Yet she believes treatment alone is not enough. “Diabetes is a lifelong disease. Medicines are important, but patient education is equally critical. If people understand the condition, they can manage it better and prevent complications,” she says. For more than 27 years, she has organised an Annual Patients’ Education Programme, offering diagnostic tests at concessional rates and sessions on lifestyle management. Family, Practice With her husband frequently travelling for business, much of the responsibility of raising their two children fell on Dr Samudra. Instead of expanding her practice aggressively, she kept it close to home and adjusted her OPD timings around her children’s schedules. “It was not easy,” she recalls, “but I wanted to fulfil my responsibilities as a mother while continuing to serve my patients.” Beyond Medicine Today, Dr Samudra also devotes time to social initiatives through the Bharat Vikas Parishad, where she serves as Regional Head. Her projects include  Plastic Mukta Vasundhara , which promotes reduced use of single-use plastic, and  Sainik Ho Tumchyasathi , an initiative that sends Diwali  faral  (snack hamper) to Indian soldiers posted at the borders. Last year alone, 15,000 boxes were sent to troops. Despite decades of service, she measures success not in wealth but in goodwill. “I may not have earned huge money,” she says, “but I have earned immense love and respect from my patients. That is something I will always be grateful for.”

A Juggernaut Called Jemimah Rodrigues

Jemimah Rodrigues – the cricketing equivalent of that friend who shows up to the party in sweatpants, cracks a dad joke that somehow lands, and then accidentally wins the beer pong tournament. In a sport where Indian women batters are expected to channel the ghosts of Tendulkar and Laxman while dodging curveballs from selectors faster than a rickshaw in Mumbai traffic, Jemimah has carved out a career that’s equal parts fairy tale, farce, and feel-good redemption arc. At 26, she’s the right-handed firecracker who’s just slapped Australia – yes, those Aussies, the ones who treat opposition bowlers like piñatas at a kid’s birthday bash – into semi-final submission at the 2025 Women’s World Cup. But let’s rewind the VHS of her life, shall we? Because if cricket teaches us anything, it’s that highs come with more plot twists than a Karan Johar movie, and Jemimah’s reel is a blockbuster begging for popcorn.


Picture this: It’s 2017, and a 17-year-old Jemimah from Bhandup – that unpretentious Mumbai suburb where dreams are forged in the sweat of local maidans – unleashes hell on Saurashtra in an Under-19 one-dayer. She smashes 202 not out off 163 balls, becoming only the second woman after Smriti Mandhana to notch a double ton in 50-over cricket. It’s the kind of knock that makes coaches spill their chai and scouts scribble her name in permanent marker. By 2018, she’s debuting for India in T20Is against Sri Lanka, followed by ODIs versus England, and suddenly, the nation’s got a new poster girl for prodigy power-hitting. Fast-forward to the 2022 Commonwealth Games, where she helps snag gold, and her ODI stats start looking like a motivational quote: 1,472 runs in 53 matches at an average north of 32, with two centuries and a highest of 123. Awards? She’s got the Jagmohan Dalmiya for best junior domestic batter and a “Breakthrough Performance” nod that screams “future GOAT-in-training.” Highs like these aren’t just career milestones; they’re the cricket gods high-fiving her mid-air, whispering, “Kid, you’re onto something big.”


But oh, the lows – because nothing says “welcome to elite sport” like the universe handing you a participation trophy made of quicksand. Jemimah’s dips read like a tragicomedy scripted by a selector with a grudge. Early on, she was the U-19 queen bee, averaging over 100 with bat and ball (19 wickets as an off-spinner, because why not multitask?). Yet, as she graduated to the big leagues, the inconsistencies crept in like uninvited aunties at a wedding. Dropped from the ODI side more times than I’ve dropped my phone in the loo, she grappled with form that flickered like Diwali lights on a budget. T20Is? Solid, with her aggressive strokeplay turning bowlers into bewildered therapists. But the longer formats? Cue the existential crisis. And then, the real gut-punch: anxiety, that sneaky villain who turns sixes into self-doubt spirals.


Just before the 2025 World Cup, Jemimah hit rock bottom – or as she put it, “I was crying every day.” Dropped from the team amid a rough patch, she confessed to phoning her mom in tears, battling intrusive thoughts that made every net session feel like a therapy couch audition. “When you get dropped, a lot of voices start playing in your head,” she shared post-heroics, her voice cracking like a teenager’s during exams. It’s the unglamorous side of stardom: the pressure cooker of expectations where one bad tournament can make you question if you’re batting for India or just against your own mirror. Jemimah’s lows weren’t flashy failures – no infamous ducks here – but the slow-burn kind, where potential meets the pavement, and you’re left wondering if the pitch is tilted or if it’s just you.


Enter the controversies, because what’s a cricketer’s bio without a dash of tabloid spice? Jemimah’s big scandal hit in October 2024, when Mumbai’s posh Khar Gymkhana – that colonial-era club where memberships cost more than my annual grocery bill – yanked her three-year associate status faster than you can say “foreigner on the green.” The culprit? Her dad, Ivan Rodrigues, a pastor accused of hosting unauthorised “spiritual sessions” (read: Christian prayer meetings) on club turf, sparking wild rumours of forced conversions. Right-wing handles piled on, turning a family faith flare-up into a national circus, with Jemimah caught in the crossfire like a fielder dodging a rogue throw. The club cited “concerns,” but let’s call it what it was: a witch hunt wrapped in bylaws, where her evangelical roots clashed with khaki-short snobbery. Jemimah stayed mum publicly, but the sting lingered – a year later, it’s poetic justice that the same nation now toasts her as a hero, her bat silencing the trolls louder than any press conference could.


And speaking of toasts: Fast-forward to October 2025, World Cup semi-final against Australia. India needs 339 – a chase that sounds like “abandon hope, all ye who enter here.” Enter Jemimah at No. 3, dropped twice (on 82 and 106, because cricket loves drama), yet unfazed, she grinds out an unbeaten 127 off 140 balls, anchoring the impossible. Teary-eyed in the post-match huddle, she spills: “Anxiety nearly broke me, but my teammates pulled me through.” It’s the stuff of legends – from gymkhana outcast to World Cup wrist-slapper, proving resilience isn’t just a buzzword; it’s her superpower.


So, what’s my hot take on Jemimah Rodrigues? In a women’s game that’s exploding like fireworks at India’s 75th Republic Day – yet still begging for the spotlight it deserves – she’s the unfiltered gem we need.


(The writer is a senior journalist based in Mumbai. Views personal.)

Comments


bottom of page