My husband and I recently binge-watched “Made in India- A Titan Story”. The eloquently told six-episode series chronicles the journey of Titan and its visionary leader, Xerxes Desai. It takes you through the highs and lows of building one of India’s most iconic watch brands and keeps you gripped till the very end.
It is a story of innovation, risk-taking and institutional patience.
But most of all, it is a story about having the “freedom to fail”.
Every time Xerxes Desai failed, he celebrated that freedom. Failure wasn’t an embarrassment; it was a stepping stone to the next breakthrough.
Since then, I have been thinking about- the freedom to fail.
Almost every profession is given the luxury of failure.
Entrepreneurs are encouraged to “fail fast.”
Scientists spend years failing before they finally discover something.
ISRO learnt invaluable lessons from the failures of Chandrayaan-2 before Chandrayaan-3 scripted history.
Historically, politicians have failed with astonishing regularity. I mean look at the world around us today. Do we need anymore evidence for their failures?
And then there is medicine…
It is probably the only profession in the world where failure is not an option.
Not because doctors are superhuman.
Not because we never make mistakes.
But because the consequences of failure are measured on a very different scale.
In business, failure may cost money.
In politics, it may cost votes.
In sport, it may cost a trophy.
But in medicine, it can leave behind unbearable pain, a permanent disability, a grieving family and sometimes, a tombstone.
That is a burden every doctor carries from day one.
People often ask me whether surgery becomes easier after nearly two decades.
Technically, yes.
Emotionally, never.
I still pause before every operation. I still prepare obsessively. I still replay difficult cases in my mind. I still pray every time before a surgery.
Because when someone lies unconscious on an operating table, they have surrendered complete control with absolute trust. They have placed their life in our hands.
That privilege can never become routine.
We are never given the freedom to fail. And yet, as doctors we obsessively devote our lives to studying failure.
We learn from our own mistakes, and from those of others. We continuously question, refine, teach and learn—because everything we do in medicine is ultimately aimed at reducing failure.
We spend our entire careers trying to prevent something we can never completely eliminate.
Perhaps that is the paradox of medicine.
And perhaps that relentless pursuit is both the privilege and burden of being a doctor!
Happy Doctors Day!
