With profound grief, we share that Dr. Binod Naithani of the SNMC 1967 batch breathed his last early this morning at Max Hospital after a brief illness. An anaesthesiologist whose steady hands and calm presence guided countless patients through the most vulnerable moments of their lives, he leaves behind a legacy measured not in headlines, but in the silent gratitude of those who woke safely after surgery. His son Dr Prashant Naithani is an eye surgeon in Dehradun

Born into a generation that came of age in a newly independent India, Binod joined the halls of Sarojini Naidu Medical College in Agra as part of the 1967 batch. Those were days of rigorous training, long nights in the wards, and a fierce idealism. Classmates still recall a young man who would stay late reviewing cases, saying with a quiet smile, “If I am the last person a patient sees before they sleep, I must be worthy of that trust.”

After completing his medical training, he chose a path few would: service with the Indo-Tibetan Border Police. High in the Himalayas, where the air is thin and the cold bites deep, Dr. Naithani served as a medical officer. Colleagues from those years remember him treating frostbite, altitude sickness, and injuries far from any modern operating theatre. One former jawan once recounted, “Doctor Sahab would sit with us after a long patrol, check our pulses, and say, ‘The mountains test the body, but we will not let them break the spirit.’ He made us feel safe even when the nearest hospital was days away.”

Later, he brought that same quiet resilience to the bustling corridors of Safdarjang Hospital in Delhi. There, amid the constant rush of emergency cases, he honed his skills as an anaesthesiologist. A junior resident who trained under him still remembers a particularly difficult case: a young accident victim whose vitals kept fluctuating. As tension mounted in the theatre, Dr. Naithani’s voice remained steady. “Breathe with me,” he told the team. “We hold the line together. The patient is not alone, and neither are we.” The surgery succeeded. Outside the theatre, the young doctor later found him sitting quietly, eyes closed for a moment, before he simply said, “Another life continues. That is enough.”

His expertise next took him to the Rajiv Gandhi Cancer Institute and Research Centre in Delhi, where the stakes were often higher and the patients more fragile. Working with oncology teams, he specialised in the delicate art of keeping cancer patients safe through complex, lengthy procedures. Nurses spoke of his gentle way with anxious families. “He would take a mother’s hand,” one recalled, “look her in the eye, and say, ‘I will be with your child every second. When they wake, they will see your face first.’ He never rushed those conversations.”

In his later years, Dr. Naithani settled in Dehradun, serving at Max Hospital. The mountains of Uttarakhand seemed a natural homecoming after his ITBP days. Patients and staff remember a senior consultant who still arrived early, still double-checked every detail, and still found time to mentor younger colleagues over a cup of tea. One of them shared a recent memory: after a long day, Dr. Naithani had looked out toward the distant hills and remarked softly, “We spend our lives helping others sleep without fear. When it is our turn, I hope we can do the same.”

He leaves behind family, friends, batchmates from SNMC 1967, and a wide circle of colleagues across hospitals and the border force who regarded him as both teacher and friend. Those who knew him speak of a man who carried authority lightly, who preferred the quiet satisfaction of a successful recovery over any public recognition.

The last journey will begin at 11:30 a.m. from his residence at 101, Best Avenue, Balbir Road (near the BJP office), proceeding to Kharkhari, Haridwar.

In the operating theatres where he once worked, the monitors will continue their steady beeping. Somewhere, a patient will drift into sleep under a new pair of hands, never knowing the quiet standards set by the man who came before. Dr. Binod Naithani’s formula was simple and profound: show up fully, hold the line with care, and let every life entrusted to you matter completely.

He is gone, yet the trust he inspired endures. Om Shanti.