The year was 1934. As a six-year-old in Quetta (now in Pakistan), Nirmal Ahuja watched helplessly while a woman in her neighbourhood died in labour screaming with pain. The woman had developed complications and refused to be admitted to a hospital which had no lady doctors. This incident was to leave a lasting impression on young Nirmal. ``I resolved to become a doctor when I grew up so that no one would die for lack of medical care.'' Today, as a gynaecologist who has helped save many such lives and as a retired Major General, the only lady in the army medical corps to have reached that high post, Ahuja can look back with satisfaction over a life spent in service. As memories of times gone by unspool, the years fall away from this tall elegant lady.It was not an easy start. ``In Quetta, girls pursuing higher studies was unheard of. The Khalsa Girls School, where I studied didn't even offer science so how was I to become a doctor? My father requested Sardar Bahadur Gurdit Singh, who had founded the school, to make a special allowance for me,'' she remembers. Accordingly a special entrance was designed through the principal's room to the boy's section where a purdah covered Nirmal would sit for her classes. ``Had Sardar Bahadur Gurdit Singh not allowed it I would not have been able to fulfill my dream,'' she says gratefully. Coincidentally, Ahuja helped deliver Singh's great-granddaughter Maneka Gandhi many years later in 1956.After her intermediate studies at Lahore, where her father was posted, Ahuja secured admission to the Lady Hardinge Medical College in New Delhi in early 1947. With the Partition looming large it was a turbulent time. ``My family had to leave our property in Quetta, our house in Lahore, and move to a new posting at Jullandhar,'' she recalls.When Ahuja graduated with honours from the medical college in 1952 most of her classmates wanted to set up private practice. ``My conscience would not permit me to sell my profession. I decided to join the armed forces as a doctor on a fixed pay. My principal was aghast. I remember her saying that I was a brilliant student and the army was only for average doctors.'' When Ahuja was commissioned as a general duty medical officer in April 1953, it was with the determination to prove her principal wrong.Ahuja was also determined not to take either gender discrimination or soft options in her chosen career. ``There used to be a rule prohibiting lady officers from becoming members of the officers' mess. A farewell lunch had been arranged by the officers for General Rajinder Singh, chief of army staff. As I entered the mess the commandant came up to me and said I would not be allowed in and should instead attend the lunch given to the chief's wife by the officers' wives. Insulted I was about to move away when the general himself asked me what the matter was and invited me to lunch. From that day onwards that particular rule was done away with,''she smiles.Marriage to Jagdish Chander Ahuja followed soon after and she was ready to settle down happily into matrimony. But fate had other plans. Five years after marriage, Ahuja was left a widow with a fledgling family, a four-year-old daughter and a year-old son. ``My parents who had settled in Delhi suggested that I send the children to them but I was firm about raising them myself.'' It was a tough period for Ahuja with two young children to raise and a job that entailed frequent postings but she did not give in. ``I could have requested the authorities to grant me a longer tenure at one place. Instead I thought I would stick it out with my head held high.'' To avoid further disturbance to the school schedule of children, Sanjeev and Neena, they were sent to a boarding school.``God gave me strength to face each challenge thrown my way,'' she says. And challenges there were many. In 1967 as officer-in-charge of an Indian medical team, Ahuja was sent to war-torn Laos in Indo-China. A gynaecologist (she had finished her specialisation in 1962), her work extended to treating gunshot wounds and amputations. The camp in the remote region of Paksane meant that communication with the outside world was limited to a few phone calls once a month from Vientiane, the largest city in the region, which was 120 miles away. In the memorable year that she spent there, Ahuja's easy smile and cheerful nature won her new friends. ``I was the only woman in the detachment and was known as Mother India,'' she smiles.Another challenge and one just as enjoyable was her stint as a professor at the Armed Forces Medical College, Pune from 1977-81. ``Teaching theory behind what I had practiced so far helped me gain deeper insight into the subject and it was a pleasure being with young students. They still come to meet me,'' she says, her face breaking into a smile. While as a specialist her field of experience had been limited to matters medical, she was soon to understand the nitty-gritties of administration when she was promoted as Major General and took over as Commandant of the Command Hospital, Central command, Lucknow in 1986. ``My priorities were clear - I wanted patients to be cared for.'' Within months of her appointment Ahuja was already making changes for the comfort of patients and had got projects worth Rs 57 lakhs sanctioned from the army commander. ``Those in the paraplegic and the burns ward had to face the sweltering Lucknow summer without air-conditioning which I had the authorities install immediately. I hadbeen much impressed by beds that could be automatically raised at the press of a button that I had seen in a Mumbai hospital and three months before my retirement I got these beds sanctioned as well,'' she says, barely concealing the triumph in her voice.Worthy deeds when done without thought of profit often result in just that. In 1984 she was awarded the Vishisht Seva Medal and when she retired in January 1988, Ahuja was honoured with the prestigious Ati Vishisht Seva Medal. Her proudest memories though, are when critically ill patients have recovered and walked out alive.Looking back she acknowledges that the struggle was worth it. ``I think women are gifted with strength, compassion and the ability to make others comfortable which makes them a natural when it comes to the army,'' she believes. While this highly independent lady lives by herself, her son, also a doctor practising in the United States and her daughter who is married to a naval officer meet her regularly. ``Lonely? no, how can I be lonely when I have so much to share with others,'' she says.Ahuja spends her day cooking, listening to music while evenings are spent watching, what she believes, is the most beautiful sunset in all of Pune from her house in Salunke Vihar. All the while spreading sunshine in the lives of those around her.
