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The first time it happened outside India was maybe 20 years ago. It was in Beijing. I was teaching in the Rutgers Executive MBA (master of business administration) program there and happened to be at lunch with one of my Danish students. The conversation drifted (inevitably) to Parsis and Zoroaster. The student mentioned that he actually worked in his office back home in Copenhagen with a Parsi. The next day in class he told me that he had chatted with his colleague in Denmark who wanted to know if I was indeed related to the great and famous doctor with the same surname as mine. Can you imagine my intense pride when I informed him that "Yes, I was indeed ‘related’” for Dr Zarrin Langdana was my mother!
She was famous not just in India but also in New Zealand, Canada, the United States and in the United Kingdom. We heard of her fame in China, Singapore and even in Iceland. As kids, we remember how when walking with her from point A to point B, especially in South Bombay, she would be accosted by a seemingly never-ending succession of former patients and well-wishers! On and on, they would line up to greet her. My mom would make it a point to patiently speak to them all — her former patients and their children — while our dad, Keki Langdana, and my two brothers, Fali and Burjor, and I waited patiently for her to finally arrive at the end of the stretch. And then, the whole routine would begin again for the next block! Over the years, this scenario must have occurred countless times.
Zarrin was truly a legend in her time. She was a role model for women when there were just a handful of famous women doctors in India. Her medical skills were legendary. Even more so was her incredible generosity. She would refuse to charge any patients in whom she detected even a hint of financial stress. In fact, my uncle in Toronto, Burjor Langdana, recently informed me that not only would she not charge many of her patients, but in many cases she would actually pay for their hospital expenses from her own personal savings!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She was a doctor in the "old world” sense where selfless service came first. In this she was following in the tradition of her physician father, Dr Faramroze Daruvalla of Bordi in Maharashtra. In many ways, she was bimodal. She was quiet and shy in social gatherings but in the operation theater in the hospital, she was very clearly in charge. She worked unceasingly and tirelessly. She would often go without sleep for two to three days on end, treating the patients and their children at the Parsi Lying-In Hospital (PLIH, also known as Tehmuljee’s Suavar Khana) in the Fort area. She began her truly remarkable career there as resident medical officer (RMO) in obstetrics/gynecology from 1958 until her retirement in 2004. Even after she retired, she worked in her clinic for several years, dispensing medical care — most of it, again, at no charge — to her faithful patients.
Her unceasing work did not deter her from also being totally dedicated to our education. We three brothers still remember how she would come back upstairs to our premises in the Hospital between surgeries with her white coat on, to check on our homework, and then race back down to her patients! Not faring well in school or college was simply not an option.
While she was intensely "embedded” in our academics, ironically, she herself was a "self-made” individual. Zarrin, who was born on February 2, 1927, lost her mother when she was just eight years old. With her dad being a busy doctor and mostly on house calls, she was truly on her own through life. In fact, when an intense, freak cyclone slammed into Bordi when she was a child, she was alone at home with her younger brother and a helper. The helper promptly fled as the storm inundated the house and the strong winds ripped off the roof, leaving Zarrin and her brother alone. All her Honors prize books — she had topped every class in school — which were stored upstairs, were sucked away by the storm. I got this story out of her just once; she did not want to talk about it. The trauma still lingered.
Zarrin attended Grant Medical College in Bombay, where she completed her bachelor of medicine and bachelor of surgery (MBBS) degree in 1955, topping her class, as evidenced by her array of impressive medals. She and Keki then went to Hull, UK where she did her doctor of medicine (MD) at the Hull York Medical School at the University of Hull, topping her class again. Dad worked as a radar engineer in Hull with Marconi International. They both moved back to Bombay in 1957 when she was appointed RMO of the PLIH.

 

 

 

 

Sadly, her selfless service and her unending devotion to her patients took its toll on her health. For the last six years of her life, she was admitted to The B. D. Petit Parsee General Hospital, tended by her lifelong colleague and friend Dr Kekobad Mody until the end. We three sons would visit as often as possible (pre-Covid) until she sadly passed away on August 31, 2021. We are grateful to our cousin and my de facto "sister” Maharukh Vasunia and her husband Scheheriar for visiting our mother so regularly in hospital. Our dear aunt, Mani Contractor, has been an indispensable friend and to her we owe a huge debt of gratitude for all her help over all these years. Finally, to Zarrin’s two devoted assistants who lovingly tended to her night and day in the hospital until the end, Jayshree and Sunita, the family is most grateful indeed.
Even though Zarrin touched literally tens of thousands of lives, the humility and grace with which she always carried herself truly epitomizes her. She was humble right until the end, even though a titan among doctors. By the time she received The D. D. Mehta Memorial Trust award on March 21, 2012, sadly, Alzheimer’s had set in and she was in no condition to personally accept the honor. But then no award could truly do justice to this remarkable, quiet, humble, generous and brilliant doctor and mother.
There are two ways that one can walk from Point A to Point B. One is the quick, fast, direct route that most of us take. Then there is the "long way” between Point A and Point B. This is the route taken by the handful of great people who have been in our midst. This way takes forever, as legions of grateful well-wishers accost and thank these amazing handful of stars. This was the route taken by Dr Zarrin Langdana through life. May her legacy last forever.