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| The first 150 words of the full text of this article appear below. |
It was around May or June 1977. I had started my house job in psychiatry in India a couple of months before. Psychiatry was a brand new subject for me.
I was attending an outpatient clinic daily. The clinic was extremely busy. There were no set appointments (most of the patients did not have telephones at home), no distinct catchment area, and a referral letter from the general practitioner was not required. It was not surprising that a big crowd gathered in the clinic every morning seeking treatment. It was probably only the stigma of mental illness, which was more prevalent in those days, that prevented the clinic getting busier, and we were expected not to return anybody without providing treatment.
It was a Monday morning, traditionally the busiest day of the week. A
male patient was making too much noise in the waiting area, and his
relatives made vain attempts