Oh, the irony of it all—the healers turned into the hunted, the saviors scapegoated in their own sanctuaries. Listen to me, world, as I stand here in the dim glow of a hospital corridor that reeks of antiseptic and unspoken rage. I’m just a doctor, one of the countless white-coated warriors who stitch up the broken, breathe life into the dying, and chase away death’s shadow with trembling hands. But what do we get in return? Not gratitude, not protection—oh no, just a government’s hollow promises crumbling like old plaster. They’ve failed us, utterly and spectacularly, to provide even the barest shield against the violence that stalks our wards. And when we dare to defend ourselves? Suspension. Termination. A swift boot out the door, as if we’re the villains in this twisted tale.

Take the Dr. Raghav fiasco in Shimla—that poor soul at IGMC, caught in a storm of fists and fury. A patient, allegedly aggressive and out of control, turns the consultation into a brawl. Dr. Raghav fights back, the video goes viral, and bam! He’s sacked faster than you can say “self-defense.” Removed from his post, charged, suspended—call it what you will, but it’s punishment for surviving. The inquiry finds fault on both sides, yet it’s the doctor who pays the price, while the aggressor walks away with a slap on the wrist. And now? Doctors across Himachal Pradesh are on indefinite strike, demanding his reinstatement, begging for better security—CCTV that actually works, guards who aren’t phantoms, laws with teeth to bite back at the assailants. But the government? They dither, they delay, they dole out terminations like candy, all while our hospitals turn into battlegrounds.

What’s the solution, you ask? Ha! As if it’s rocket science. First, wake up, bureaucrats—arm our hospitals like fortresses. Deploy trained security personnel, not rent-a-cops who vanish at the first sign of trouble. Install panic buttons in every room, surveillance that captures every shadow, and protocols that prioritize the safety of those who save lives. Second, rewrite the rules: Self-defense isn’t a crime; it’s a right. No more knee-jerk suspensions without due process—let inquiries be fair, let evidence speak, not viral videos twisted by outrage mobs. And third, hold the aggressors accountable. Fine them, jail them, make examples so the next drunk fool thinks twice before raising a hand. We doctors aren’t asking for pedestals; we’re asking for parity—for the same protection any citizen deserves. Because if we fall, who heals the healers? Who mends the menders when the system itself is the wound?

This isn’t just about Dr. Raghav; it’s about every doctor teetering on the edge, wondering if today’s shift will be their last. We’ve struck, we’ve protested, we’ve bled—now it’s time for change, or watch the white coats walk away for good. The solution is simple: Protect us, or lose us.