A Birthday Gift of Light and Precision for my dear friend, Dr. Umesh Chandra, on His 66th Birthday – 27 January, 2026.
While wishing my dear
friend, Dr Umesh (Umi), a renowned Laparoscopic Surgeon, a happy 66th
birthday today, I am reminded of a providential coincidence his birthday has
with the profession and a later expertise which he has acquired in his surgical
profession as a Laparoscopic surgeon of repute. This piece – science communication
- is therefore a birthday gift to my dear friend Dr Umesh on his birthday,
which I hope he will like it.
Providentially, my dear
Umi (Dr Umesh Chandra) who was born on 27 January 1960, marked his entry into
this world on the 80th anniversary of a profound invention of an
electric bulb by one of the legendary inventors – Thomas Alva Edison. This providential coincidence of Umesh’s birth
that marked the 80th anniversary of Edisons Light bulb invention patent,
foretold the influence that light would have in the professional career of Dr
Umesh in the years ahead.
On 27 January 1880,
Thomas Alva Edison was granted the U.S. Patent No. 223,898 for what the world
remembers simply as the electric bulb. While popular memory celebrates Edison
as the “inventor of light,” the truth—far more interesting—is that he perfected
a system. Dozens before him had produced glowing filaments; Edison solved the
deeper problem of sustained illumination, safe distribution, and commercial
viability. In doing so, he did not merely light rooms—he reshaped time itself
for which he was rightly awarded an US patent on 27 January, 1880.
It is therefore, a
historical delight for me that Dr Umesh was born exactly eighty years after Edison’s
patent, on the very day - 27 January - when light officially became a human
companion, more importantly for medical practitioners to harvest its benefit
for human good, later.
History often advances
not through sudden leaps, but through quiet revolutions—moments when human
ingenuity learns how to do more by disturbing less. The story of modern
civilisation, more importantly the surgical medical profession, which my friend
Umi practices, in many ways, is the story of precision gradually replacing
brute force, of light replacing darkness, and of insight replacing incision.
The electric bulb helped human
society - for the first time in human history, in ensuring that productivity
was no longer hostage to the natural light, sunrise and sunset. The night
became usable, predictable, and safe. Factories ran longer, hospitals
functioned better, and scientific inquiry escaped the tyranny of absence of daylight
at night. Human circadian rhythms adjusted; human civilisation quietly
recalibrated to use of artificial light, manmade.
Edison’s original bulb
used a carbon filament, glowing through resistance in a vacuum. It was
inefficient, short-lived, and fragile—but it worked. Over the decades, tungsten
replaced carbon, inert gases replaced vacuum, and efficiency steadily improved.
Yet the true revolution arrived much later.
In the late 20th century,
the invention of the blue Light Emitting Diode (LED)—based on Gallium
Nitride—made it possible to generate bright white light with minimal heat and
energy loss. This achievement earned the 2014 Nobel Prize in Physics, which was
awarded jointly to Isamu Akasaki, Hiroshi Amano, and Shuji
Nakamura for the invention of efficient blue LEDs. Their breakthrough
enabled bright, energy-saving white light sources, transforming lighting
technology. It fundamentally altered the energy economics of illumination.
Light became cooler, sharper, portable, and precise.
This shift—from
heat-heavy illumination (lighting) to cool, focused photons—finds an almost
poetic parallel in the evolution of modern surgery.
Surgery Before Precision:
The Age of the Open Incision
For most of medical
history, surgery was necessarily macroscopic. To see, one had to open. To
reach, one had to cut wide. Even the most skilled surgeon was constrained by
anatomy, lighting, and the limitations of the naked eye.
Open surgery saved
countless lives, but at great cost:
– large incisions
– significant blood loss
– prolonged hospital
stays
– higher infection rates
– longer recovery times
Much like early lighting
systems, surgery worked—but inefficiently and traumatically.
The dream of seeing
inside the living human body without opening it haunted physicians for
centuries. Incidentally, it all started clandestinely.
The Clandestine
Foundation: Renaissance Roots to Modern Surgery.
The lineage of modern
surgery does not begin in a sterile theatre, but in the candlelit basements of
15th-century Italy. While the medical world credits Andreas Vesalius
(1514–1564) with the first formalisation of human anatomy in De humani corporis
fabrica, his precision was preceded by the clandestine brilliance of the
legendary Leonardo da Vinci
Da Vinci, driven by an
insatiable scientific "foresight," dissected over 30 cadavers in
secret—at a time when such acts were often socially or legally perilous. He was
the first to realize that to heal the body, one must first "see" it
from within. His anatomical drawings were the world’s first "laparoscopic
views"—mental sections of the body that revealed the layers of fascia, the
branching of arteries, and the mechanics of the organs. This era established
the fundamental law of surgery: clarity of vision dictates the success of the
intervention.
The Birth of Laparoscopy:
Seeing Without Opening
The roots of laparoscopy
go back further than many realise. In 1901, the German physician Georg Kelling
performed the first known endoscopic examination of the abdominal cavity on a
dog, using a cystoscope and filtered air. A few years later - 1910, Hans
Christian Jacobaeus of Sweden extended the technique to humans and coined the
term laparothoracoscopy.
However, early
laparoscopy remained a diagnostic curiosity. Poor lighting, crude lenses, and
limited instrumentation kept it from widespread adoption.
Everything changed with
three technological convergences:
Optics – the development
of rod-lens systems by Harold Hopkins dramatically improved image clarity.
Light sources – cold
light, fibre optics, and later LED illumination eliminated tissue burns and
shadows.
Instrumentation – fine,
specialised tools allowed surgeons not just to look, but to operate.
By the late 20th century,
laparoscopy transitioned from diagnosis to definitive surgery. In the year,
1987, Philippe Mouret (France) performed the first laparoscopic gallbladder
removal (cholecystectomy), which transformed the profession.
The Laparoscopic
Revolution: Less is More
The 1980s and 1990s
marked a turning point. Procedures once thought impossible without large
incisions—cholecystectomy, appendectomy, hernia repair, gynaecological
surgeries—were now being performed through keyhole openings.
The benefits were
transformative:
minimal tissue trauma
reduced postoperative
pain
faster recovery
shorter hospital stays
quicker return to normal
life
In essence, laparoscopy
did to surgery what the LED did to lighting: maximum output with minimum
collateral damage.
Light as the Surgeon’s
Ally
There is a profound
symbolism at the heart of laparoscopic surgery. The surgeon no longer relies
solely on touch and exposure, but on light itself—guided through fibre optics,
magnified by lenses, and translated into high-resolution images.
Healing is achieved not
by opening the body to daylight, but by bringing light into the body. This is
where technology, biology, and philosophy quietly intersect.
Laparoscopic Surgery in
India
In India, the true
pioneer of laparoscopic surgery was Dr. Tehemton Erach Udwadia, widely regarded
as the father of laparoscopic surgery in the country. He was a master surgeon,
a passionate teacher, a pioneer, an influencer of Indian and world surgery and
an inspiration to countless surgeons. His interest in laparoscopic surgery
began with a chance moment of curiosity.
It was one of those occasions - in the year
1971 - while waiting for an anaesthetist he observed a gynaecologist colleague,
Dr. Narges Motashaw perform a diagnostic laparoscopy. Dr. Udwadia became
fascinated with this technique. He travelled to Germany soon thereafter and met
with Dr. Karl Storz – the renowned instrument manufacturer – to acquaint
himself of the basic knowledge and understanding of laparoscopic instruments. Thereafter,
on his return to India he sourced one of these instruments at JJ Hospital,
Mumbai, where he worked. This instrument was used for over 20 years for
performing peritoneoscopy (as laparoscopy was called back then) and helped
thousands of patients by hastening “the diagnosis and treatment of abdominal
pathology before the advent of modern imaging”.
Although he was a renowned
surgeon known for his manual extraordinary surgical skills, his understanding
of the diagnostics using laparoscopy at JJ Hospital helped him gravitate
towards using this technology to assist him in his surgery. It was, therefore
but natural that Dr. Udwadia became the first Indian surgeon to perform a
laparoscopic cholecystectomy in India on 31st May 1990 at J J
Hospital. He was convinced that this advance surgical procedure was relevant in
a developing country like ours as it would be in the Western world. Therefore, he
started presenting his series of cases and demonstrating this novel surgery at
conferences and workshops across India.
It was during one of those
conferences and talks which my friend Umesh attended in Mumbai during the
period when he was working at the KEM Hospital that Umesh was immediately drawn
to this new surgical technology. On his return to his native place, Kalaburagi,
and while working at the Surgery department with the at the Mahadevappa Rampure
Medical College (MRMC), he conceived of an idea to explore Laparoscopic surgery
in Kalaburagi, a relatively smaller town where there was little understanding
about this new surgery in the mid-1990s.
Dr. Umesh and Kalaburagi:
Global Science, Local Impact
In cities like
Kalaburagi, the adoption of advanced medical technology is never merely
technical—it is cultural. Introducing laparoscopy meant changing mindsets: of
patients, families, institutions, and even fellow practitioners. In the year
1997-98, Dr Umesh decided to take a plunge in to this new technology. He
decided to travel to Germany to study and understand about this new technology
and its use in surgery.
In late 1997, he travelled
to Frankfurt for a six-week study and training at the Städtische Kliniken
Mönchengladbach, Hospital in Germany, and the rest is history.
On his return to Kalaburagi
(Gulbarga then), from Germany, the country which had pioneered this technology
in surgery, Umesh soon embraced and pioneered laparoscopic surgery and became
part of that long lineage of applied scientists who translate global innovation
into local wellbeing. I vividly remember, the day when he inaugurated his Laparoscopic
surgical instrument at his hospital. I also remember his anxiety and trials
that he had to go through to convince not just his patients but also his peers,
the advantage of this surgery which was then quite alien to the tier 2 and tier
3 cities, more importantly in Kalaburagi.
I remember an anecdotal
story which Umesh had shared with us, his close friends, of his first surgical
experience using this technology. It was a surgery in which he had to work on a
gall bladder. Normally such surgeries and the recovery of the patients would
take about a week or so and sometimes the patient had to stay in hospitals for
2 weeks. It was with great difficulty and help from an acquaintance known to the
patient that Umesh managed to convince the patient that he would perform the
surgery using a robot-like instrument, which may help him get an early
discharge. As expected, notwithstanding a number of such surgical procedures
which he had performed helping the surgeons at Germany, Umesh was tensed, since
this was his first experience on an Indian patient and that too in Kalaburagi.
Any mishap could lead to disastrous consequences, yet his confidence in the
technology and his extraordinary surgical skills had convinced him to go ahead.
Dr Umesh completed his
surgery successfully and the patient was shifted from the Operation Theatre to
the ward for post-surgery care. Next day when he went on a round of the wards,
Dr Umesh was aghast when he did not see the patient on the bed. Strange thoughts
passed through his mind, including of the patients passing and the consequences
of this eventuality on his future career. Lo and behold when he enquired, to
his disbelief, he learnt that the patient was discharged since he had recovered
completely from the surgical wounds. Later in the day, he made a trip to patients’
home to happily realise that he was hale and hardy. From that first surgery in early
1998, he and his equally competent and able Doctor wife, Dr Suman, they have
performed hundreds of surgeries and continue to do so even today.
Thus, Dr Umesh helped Laparoscopic
surgical procedures, which were once available only in metropolitan centres, accessible
closer to home, sparing countless patients unnecessary suffering.
Much like Edison’s bulb
did not remain confined to Menlo Park, but travelled into homes across the
world, laparoscopic surgery under Dr. Umesh’s hands travelled into lives that
might otherwise never have encountered it. Today the city of Kalaburagi is home
to many surgeons who use this technology but then it was my friend Umi who
started it in Kalaburagi.
A Personal Reflection on
Friendship and Science
As someone who observes
science not from the operating theatre but from the page, I find it deeply
moving that my friend Umesh’s life’s work revolves around precision guided by
light—a theme that echoes from Edison’s laboratory to the modern operating
room.
If history teaches us
anything, it is that progress belongs not only to inventors, but to early
adopters, interpreters, and practitioners—those who trust new technologies and ideas
enough to place human lives in their care.
On your 66th birthday, Umi,
this essay stands as a modest gift from a poorer friend in material terms, but
a rich admirer of your medical surgical contributions and your early adoption
of technology to further your objective of better caregiving for your patients.
Happy Birthday, Dr.
Umesh.
May your hands remain
steady, your light remains focused, and your legacy continue to heal—one
precise incision at a time.
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