In the warm, bustling city of Guntur in undivided Andhra Pradesh, on 22 September 1966, a boy named Raghu Ram Pillarisetti was born into a home already filled with the quiet dignity of healing. His father, Prof. P.V. Chalapathi Rao, was a respected doctor who would one day receive the Dr. B.C. Roy Award. His mother, Dr. Ushalakshmi Kumari, was a gentle physician whose own life would later rewrite her son’s destiny.
“Medicine is service, kanna,” his father would say during evening walks. “Not just knowledge. Service with heart.”
Young Raghu listened. He excelled in his studies, completed his MBBS at Siddhartha Medical College in Vijayawada in 1991, and then secured first place in his MS (General Surgery) from Kasturba Medical College, Mangalore, in 1995. Ambition carried him across the seas to the United Kingdom. In a remarkable span of just two months in 1997, he earned the FRCS from three of the four Surgical Royal Colleges of the British Isles—Edinburgh, Glasgow and Ireland—a feat still spoken of with awe. He later added the fourth and trained in the emerging field of oncoplastic breast surgery at the Nottingham Breast Institute and the prestigious Royal Marsden Hospital in London.
Life in Britain was comfortable. Opportunities shone brightly. Then, in 2002, the telephone rang with news that changed everything. His mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer.
Raghu sat in silence for a long time. “I cannot stay here while she faces this alone,” he told his wife, Dr. Vyjayanthi, a brilliant obstetrician and fertility specialist who had also trained in the UK. “And I cannot watch other Indian women face the same fear without proper care.”
In 2007 they returned to Hyderabad. Friends and colleagues were surprised. “You are leaving a settled career in Britain for what?” some asked.
“For my mother,” he replied simply. “And for every mother like her.”
What he found in India shocked him. Breast cancer was still spoken of in whispers. Screening was almost non-existent. Women arrived late, when the disease had already stolen hope. There was no dedicated breast centre in the entire subcontinent.
So he built one.
At KIMS Hospitals he conceived, designed and established the KIMS-Ushalakshmi Centre for Breast Diseases—South Asia’s first comprehensive, free-standing breast health facility, named after the woman who had inspired him. Under one roof came screening, diagnosis, surgery, reconstruction, counselling and rehabilitation. He founded the Ushalakshmi Breast Cancer Foundation to shatter the silence. Pink Ribbon walks filled the streets. Awareness campaigns reached villages. He created the world’s first breast health mobile app in English and eleven Indian languages so that a woman in a remote village could learn the signs of early detection on her phone.
“A lump is not a death sentence,” he would tell patients gently, holding their hands. “It is a call to act early. We will walk this path together.”
He spearheaded South Asia’s largest population-based breast cancer screening programme in Telangana and Andhra Pradesh, a model later adopted nationwide through the National Health Mission. He founded the Association of Breast Surgeons of India, serving as its youngest President. In 2020 he became President of the Association of Surgeons of India.
Honours followed like a rising tide. In 2015, at the age of forty-eight, President Pranab Mukherjee conferred upon him the Padma Shri—the youngest surgeon from Telangana and Andhra Pradesh ever to receive it. The Dr. B.C. Roy National Award came next. In 2021 Queen Elizabeth II appointed him Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (OBE); Prince Charles presented the insignia at Windsor Castle. Honorary Fellowships followed from the Royal College of Surgeons of England, the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow, and many others. He became the only surgeon in the world to hold both the exam-based FRCS and the Honorary FRCS from the same College.
Yet when people congratulate him, he still points beyond himself. “This is my mother’s gift,” he says. “And my wife’s quiet strength. Without Vyjayanthi standing beside me, none of this would have been possible.”
Today, in the bright corridors of the centre that bears his mother’s name, women from every walk of life walk in with fear and leave with knowledge, dignity and hope. From a boy who listened to his father’s words about service, to a surgeon who returned home to rewrite the story of breast cancer in India, Dr. Raghu Ram Pillarisetti continues to turn personal pain into public purpose—one life, one early detection, one pink ribbon at a time.










