The Making of a Mural

✒︎

7.25

The Making of a Mural

The Art of Listening

A Mural Capturing the Spirit of Dhanora

Some works of art announce themselves with a flourish. Others grow quietly, shaped by patience, skill, and a deep understanding of place. The mural that now anchors the garden between the Medicine Department and the Registration OPD at MGIMS belongs to the latter kind. It is a work that does not shout for attention; instead, it waits for the viewer to pause, much like the figures depicted in its clay-turned-stone narrative.

The project unfolded over eight months, a period when the world—and our campus—was gripped by the uncertainties of the COVID-19 pandemic. Amidst the masks and the digital distancing, two artists, Dinesh Gudadhe and Ashok Baburao Wahiwatkar, worked with a remarkable, quiet focus. They were transforming a fleeting photographic moment into a permanent anchor of dignity for our hospital grounds.

The Soul of the Garden

The idea began with a simple question: could a long, bare wall on campus be used to create something meaningful? We initially looked at a site near the Registration OPD, but it felt cramped. A mural needs space—distance for the eye to travel and room for the story to breathe. We eventually settled on the garden between the two OPDs, a place where patients and their families naturally pause, wait, and reflect.

The artists presented four designs: a deer in a forest, a bullock cart, and a pair of swans. But the fourth stood apart. It was based on a photograph taken during a community immersion program in Dhanora, a village eight kilometers from Sevagram. In that village, our medical students don’t just study textbooks; they learn medicine at the doorsteps of rural households. That photograph—quiet, unposed, and deeply human—became the soul of the work.

Seventy Bags of Clay

What followed was a slow, exacting labor. More than seventy bags of clay were used to shape the figures. The process was a metamorphosis: from a pencil drawing to a clay sculpture, then to plaster moulds, and finally into the reinforced panels that form the mural today. Working outdoors, the artists battled changing weather and the physical endurance required to maintain an unerring sense of proportion on such a large scale.

The mural depicts a first-year medical student seated at the threshold of a village home. Dressed in her white apron, spectacles resting lightly on her face and a backpack slung over her shoulders, she listens. She is not diagnosing or instructing; she is learning. Beside her sits an elderly woman in a green blouse, an infant resting in her lap, meeting the viewer’s eyes. Nearby, two toddlers are absorbed in their own world, while a young man with a mobile phone represents the quiet encroachment of modern life.

To one side, a boy runs joyfully after a rolling tyre, a classic image of rural childhood that makes the mural’s laughter almost audible. The backdrop—an unplastered brick wall and unfinished steps—renders the texture of rural life honestly, without the gloss of sentimentality.

Medicine Rooted in Community

Technically, the work was a feat of precision. Accuracy of scale required a rigorous grid system, and the colors—earthy and restrained—were layered with acrylic paints before being sealed with a protective varnish. Hitesh Chappanghare’s expertise in casting proved invaluable, ensuring that the heavy panels were mounted with the delicacy they deserved.

The mural cost approximately ₹4.5 lakh, but its value transcends the ledger. It is a visual manifesto of how medicine is taught at Sevagram: through proximity, listening, and a profound respect for lived experience. Near the mural, we placed a line from Lao Tzu, inviting reflection rather than providing a simple explanation.

In preserving this single, ordinary moment from a sunny afternoon in Dhanora, the mural achieves something rare. It holds still the ethos of MGIMS: medicine rooted in community, where curiosity precedes intervention and humility precedes action. It ensures that even as the years pass, the meaning of that “first-year encounter” endures for every student who walks these gardens.

← PreviousContentsNext