The Steady Hands That Rebuilt Broken Bodies: The Story of Dr. Nandkishore Shamrao Laud
In the bustling streets of Indore, a young boy named Nandkishore Shamrao Laud grew up listening to stories that stirred something deep inside him. His maternal uncle, a gynaecologist practising in Mumbai, would visit and speak of the crowded wards of AM Hospital, of lives saved under flickering lights, of the quiet dignity of service.
“Nandu,” the uncle would say with a smile, “medicine is not just about curing. It is about giving people back their ability to walk, to work, to live without pain.”
Those words stayed with the boy. He completed his MBBS from Gandhi Medical College in Indore in 1962 and headed to Mumbai with a cricket bat under one arm and a stethoscope under the other. At Seth G.S. Medical College and KEM Hospital, while pursuing his MS in Orthopaedics, he captained the college cricket team to hard-fought victories. Leadership came naturally to him—fair play on the field, fairness in the wards.
“Sir, why do you always insist we play as a team?” a junior once asked after a tough match.
Nandu Laud grinned. “Because in the operating theatre, just like on the pitch, no one wins alone. The patient is the only score that matters.”
After post-graduation in 1966, he joined Lokmanya Tilak Municipal Medical College and General Hospital—Sion Hospital—as a lecturer. Over the years he rose to become Professor and Head of the Department of Orthopaedic Surgery and Traumatology, and Chief of Trauma Services, until his retirement in 1994. The hospital served Mumbai’s poorest. Laud made sure the care was never second-rate.
He introduced a strict 7:30 a.m. morning class. Every resident, every consultant had to be present. Cases were discussed, X-rays held up to the light, plans drawn on blackboards.
One sleepy resident mumbled, “Sir, why so early?”
Laud’s reply was gentle but firm. “Because the patient who arrives at midnight with a shattered leg does not wait for our convenience. Excellence begins before the sun rises.”
Under his leadership the department became one of India’s premier academic units. He brought in modern AO instrumentation, organised India’s first Basic and Advanced Fracture Fixation courses with the AO Foundation, and later became a trustee of that global body. In 1984 he established the “E” ward—India’s first dedicated round-the-clock trauma service—free for the needy.
In 1970, while still serving the public hospital, he founded Laud Clinic in Dadar. It began modestly, focused on trauma and general orthopaedics. By the mid-1980s it had evolved into a centre for advanced joint replacement. Hip and knee arthroplasties that once seemed futuristic became routine under his careful hands. Over the decades the clinic trained more than a hundred fellows through its Advanced Arthroplasty Fellowship Programme—surgeons who now practise across India and beyond.
His association with the legendary Dr. Chitranjan Ranawat ran deep. Together they performed complex replacements. In October 2000, when former Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee needed a total knee replacement, Laud assisted Ranawat at his clinic. The nation watched. The surgery succeeded, and joint replacement suddenly felt less distant, more possible for ordinary Indians.
During the 1992–93 Mumbai riots, when curfews sealed the city, Laud arranged police escorts so operations continued. After the 2006 train blasts he pushed for better pre-hospital care systems, writing reports to the government. Earthquakes in Latur, floods in Morbi—he organised relief teams without fanfare.
Patients called him “Prof Nandu Laud” with affection. He would sit with them longer than necessary, explaining every option—surgery, physiotherapy, injections—never pushing the knife if a gentler path existed.
In 1996 the Medical Council of India gave him the Dr. B.C. Roy National Award for excellence in trauma care. In 2009 the Royal College of Surgeons of England conferred an honorary FRCS. And in 2013 the nation recognised a lifetime of rebuilding broken bodies with the Padma Bhushan.
Even today, associated with Laud Clinic, Shushrusha Citizens’ Co-operative Hospital and Breach Candy Hospital, he continues to teach and operate with the same quiet intensity.
One evening a young fellow, fresh from training under him, asked, “Sir, after all these years, what still drives you?”
Nandkishore Shamrao Laud looked at the empty operating theatre, then at the young doctor.
“Every time a patient walks out of here without pain,” he said softly, “I hear my uncle’s voice again. We do not just fix bones. We give people back their lives.”
And that is the legacy of the boy from Indore who came to Mumbai with a cricket bat and a dream—and left behind thousands of steady footsteps walking free of pain.










