Produced by: Manoj Kumar
While the world chased profits, he charged just ₹2. Dr. Gopal’s clinic doors opened daily for decades in Kannur, offering the kind of care that capitalism forgot—and thousands depended on.
While others slept, he treated the sick. Starting at 3 am, Dr. Gopal made time for daily wage workers and students, often seeing 300 patients in one day. His clock ran on compassion, not clinic hours.
As hospital bills skyrocketed, he raised his fee—grudgingly—to ₹50. That too, only after decades. Medicines? Often free. To him, healing had nothing to do with margins or markups.
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His father called medicine a calling. His brothers followed suit. Born into a family of principled healers, Dr. Gopal carried that torch with quiet, radical discipline for over half a century.
Eighteen lakh patients. One man. One room. Few doctors in India have touched so many lives so directly—and with so little fanfare. He didn’t build a hospital. He built hope.
The IMA honored him. The Chief Minister mourned him. But the most important praise came from the crowds who called him “doctor uncle”—a title earned in sweat, patience, and unshakable ethics.
No pharma perks. No inflated prescriptions. Just generic pills, honest tests, and a refusal to play the game. Dr. Gopal practiced medicine like it was still sacred—and people noticed.
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He wasn’t alone in his mission. His wife helped dispense meds, manage queues, and comfort the sick. Their teamwork turned a tiny clinic into a fortress of dignity and care.
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When he closed his clinic in 2024, hearts broke. When he passed in August 2025, Kannur grieved like it lost its spine. Because in many ways, it had. His legacy now lives in stories, not just charts.