Back to the paediatrician at 53

In the 1990s, general physicians were often a one-stop solution

February 11, 2026—a Wednesday—will remain a memorable day. Seeing one’s paediatrician after three and a half decades is no small thing. I had the privilege of accompanying my 16-year-old son to him for a consultation with him. In a sense, he has now been a physician to two generations in my family. His experience and wisdom are invaluable to both children and their parents.

The last time I visited him must have been around 1989 or 1990. I was not a frequent visitor to his clinic—then located near the railway underpass on KRS Road in Mysuru—largely because I did not have many health problems. Despite being natives of Pandavapura and residents of Mandya, we depended on Mysuru for most services, including healthcare.

Dr S N Mothi, a reputed and popular paediatrician, had once provided valuable advice and support to my sister, Kavitha, when she was in primary school. I do not recall the details of her illness, as I too was young then, but it involved a nephrological problem. Dr Mothi diagnosed it and advised her admission to the Mission Hospital (Mary Calvert Holdsworth Memorial Hospital), one of the few private hospitals in Mysuru at the time. She was hospitalised for over a month.

In those days, general physicians were often a one-stop solution for most health concerns. Specialisation existed but was rare. Consulting a paediatrician was considered something of a luxury—almost a mark of sophistication.

Recently, my son Shishir developed a skin-related problem, and his doctor suggested we consult an endocrinologist. However, endocrinologists are few in Mysuru and paediatric endocrinologists fewer still.

Over a conversation with adventure sports trainer D S D Solanki—Deepak to me—I asked if he knew of a good and kifayati (economical) endocrinologist. He mentioned a couple of names but suggested instead that I consult an experienced paediatrician like Dr Mothi.

I was surprised. Was he still practising? I had seen him at a few literary events. But I was unsure if he continued to see patients. As it turned out, Dr Mothi has treated two generations in Deepak’s family as well.

The very next day, I was at his clinic. He was pleased to learn of our three-decade-old association. He enquired warmly about my parents and Shishir’s education. His son, Dr Shyam Sarvodey, also a paediatrician, provided additional consultation to Shishir.

As we were winding up, Dr Shyam handed me a slip with an amount written on it and asked me to submit it at the reception. Assuming that I had to pay an additional fee—perhaps for a few tests that had been conducted—I reached for my wallet. The person at the counter asked if I had a particular denomination. Thinking this was a clever way to manage the perennial ‘change’ problem, I replied that I had a different amount.

“It’s okay,” she said, and before I could even open my wallet, she handed me some cash.

It was a pleasant surprise. For a moment, I wondered if it was some kind of a ‘loyalty bonus’ cash-back offer.

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.