Surat was catapulted to global spotlight—though for all the wrong reasons. The plague outbreak had triggered fear, stigma and near-hysteria across and beyond the country.
Meanwhile, a brand-new Associate Professor — armed with exactly one year of experience—and about 100+ years’ worth of excitement, was getting ready for his first official air travel… that’s me!
Let me be clear—this is not a lesson in epidemic management. This is a story about panic, perception… and a few unintended VIP privileges.
At that time, I was attached to the Medical Superintendent’s office but at that time it was headed by the Commissioner of Health, Gujarat (a senior IAS officer). One fine day, I was assigned what sounded like a very serious responsibility: Transport sera samples from 700 suspected plague patients to NICD, Delhi.
What I heard, however, was: “Congratulations, you’re flying—on government expense.”
The Accidental VIP!
I was ordered to board a morning flight from Vadodara. Necessary orders were faxed everywhere and tickets were procured. Since Surat had no airport, I travelled to Vadodara and was put up at the Circuit House. The manager, unsure of who exactly was arriving, played it safe and gave me the VIP suite. I did not correct him.
After all, in a plague outbreak, even confusion deserves respect.
The Airport moment!
At boarding, the inevitable question came, “What’s inside the box?”
Now, the honest answer—serum samples from suspected plague patients—didn’t seem like a great way to ensure a smooth flight.
So, I said, calmly, “Vaccines for plague.”
The sera were containing only the antibodies akin to vaccines. Technically I was correct, scientifically backed up and socially convenient.
And just like that—I was cleared to board.
Delhi: Where fear travels faster than flights
At Delhi, a vehicle from Gujarat Bhawan received me—again demonstrating an unexpected level of generosity. I was allotted a suite usually reserved for senior bureaucrats and politicians. Uncertainty, I realized, is the fastest route to luxury.
That evening, I called a few old friends. The moment they heard I had come from Surat…
their enthusiasm went into quarantine. Meeting? ….. Coffee? ….. Even conversation? I heard them hesitate. Some sounded so cautious on the phone, you’d think that the infection could travel through telephone wires.
The flight back
On the return journey, the flight halted at Ahmedabad. An air hostess, clearly uneasy, advised passengers to wear masks—because, well…, “Hoshiyaar! Aap Gujarat mein hain! (Attention you are in Gujarat)”
When she came to serve tea, I couldn’t help but stir up a little mischief and said in a casual tone, “I’m from Surat Medical College—just delivered patient samples in Delhi.”
Her expression changed instantly- as I was expecting! From hospitality to hostility— from a trained stance to high-alert bio-surveillance mode.
For the rest of the journey…She maintained a very safe distance from my row — was getting ready– And kept looking at me like I was… The Sample
The honest man who couldn’t fly
The following week, another colleague was sent with samples. Same question at the airport:
“What’s inside?” He answered truthfully, “Blood samples from plague patients.”
Result? — Denied boarding– Redirected to train travel — And a bonus scolding from seniors:
“How did Pradeep manage, and you could not?”
The Grand Realization
Soon enough, wisdom prevailed. Trains like Rajdhani and August Kranti were chosen over flights as they reached Delhi overnight—making them cheaper, simpler and far less interrogative. So, the system corrected itself. Samples went by train. Calm returned.
And Me?
The next time I was asked to accompany the samples… I politely declined.
Because by then: Scientific duty — done… National service — fulfilled… an official flight — successfully enjoyed. Fateh Haasil (victory achieved)!
Final Thought
Viruses spread fast—but fear spreads faster. Leadership is what decides which one we control.
And in the middle of all the chaos, a young doctor quietly discovered two things: Panic travels faster than pathogens and sometimes, the real upgrade isn’t the flight—
it’s the story you bring back!
Sincere thanks to Ms. Sudeshna, my colleague at Gujarat SACS, for improving the language and adding the punches, here, there and everywhere.
