Teaching Shops of Medicine

A rush for capitation fees and a policy muddle could be leaving us with a horde of doctors who have a degree but little medical education

FOR a teaching hospital, Divya Jyoti Institute of Medical Sciences and Research (DJIMSR) in Ghaziabad, UP, was surprisingly devoid of human life on this morning. It had none of the familiar squash of Indian hospitals: sick people, stressed relatives, long and messy queues, the mingled smell of sweat and chemicals. We did have a hint that a ghostly entity awaited us. “Aage sirf jangal hai,” a man we asked for directions had said earlier. Only a jungle ahead. We kept going anyway, along a broad road that started cutting through fields, until we caught our first glimpse of the building. It looked like it had been abandoned mid-construction and has been crumbling since.

Before the guards began shouting at us, we jogged through. Every ward was locked. There was no electricity, no equipment—just a few stretchers inside locked wards, furniture piled on top of them. No ceilings, no glass panes. It was like being inside a big, concrete pipe-organ—the wind whistled through, blowing dust around.

DJIMSR had applied to the Medical Council of India (MCI) to start an MBBS course this September. Records show the hospital was set up in 2010; it had first applied for permission to start a college in 2012. They were denied permission every year, including in 2016. In August, the Supreme Court-appointed Over sight Committee (OC) headed by Justice R.M. Lodha also turned it down. The DJIMSR website shows a host of facilities, but lists no phone numbers. When Outlook visited the chairman’s office, we were told he was not available. They never got back. The telephone number medical superintendent Manoj Govil had submitted to the MCI turned out to be a wrong number. The principal listed in the MCI forms told us he no longer works there.