Remembering Prof. Hemangi Jerajani (Hemaben) -A Personal Tribute

A bittersweet task is assigned to me by Dr. K. A. Seetharam, Indian Dermatology Online Journal (IDOJ) Editor -In-Chief and his team in writing this piece. I would like to call this an exercise in recounting personal memories, stating facts about her and expressing what she meant to many of us, rather than writing a bland obituary. Dr Hemangi Jerajani had many salutations, prefixes and suffixes attached to her name because she had endeared herself to so many of us. People called her madam, Hema ma’am and Hemaben, ‘ben’ a Gujarati suffix usually meaning ‘elder sister’. She was a quintessentially flexible and easy boss, teacher, professor, chair, advisor, confidante, friend, philosopher, and guide, rapidly changing her roles with hard-to-emulate adroitness that made her so very popular to those who interacted with her. I will always remember the IADVL national conference in Bhubaneswar, Odisha, when Dr Ram Malkani of Mumbai came up to me during the banquet and led me to her, saying someone wanted to meet me. She was surrounded by colleagues and admirers. She purposefully came up to me, complimented me for my first lecture at my maiden IADVL national conference and said that I should stay in touch with her. She was taken by surprise when I took her up on her offer and asked her where and when I could meet her on an upcoming visit to Mumbai. She told me to come to her home at 8.30 am from where we would go to her department. It was early when I landed nervously at her doorstep; she was getting ready to go to work and told her husband, Dr Rajiv Jerajani, to chat with me while she finished her morning routine. I realised very soon that both were very interesting people indeed. All three of us took a taxi; her husband, carrying a badminton racket, got off midway to play, and the two of us went to her office, where I spent over half a day. We chatted between patients waiting for her since early morning because they refused to see anyone else, a sprinkling of medical students, residents, nurses, and office people, all waiting to be seen by her. That is when it became clear that she was an amazingly adored, trusted, approachable person who people looked up to as a dermatologist and mentor par excellence. She came across as a very dependable and kind doctor and boss. That reputation never changed, and we continued to meet, even if not often. We thoroughly enjoyed our time together, whatever little we had. During my 25-year association with her, I realised that she criticised candidly when needed, was strict when needed and disagreed openly, abandoning niceties and speaking her mind, which she was known for. We often disagreed, argued, fought, and made up, only to start again, but we became good friends in the process. She always said, ‘I love you ‘beta’ because you are different, you express yourself so well and speak your mind. Just learn to be firm but gentle, reprimanding me for being too direct and critical when provoked!’ (‘Beta’ is a Hindi and Gujarati gender-neutral endearment for a son, daughter, and little one, which she used for so many students, junior colleagues and friends close to her.) After a particularly torrid argument over something unrelated to starting IDOJ when her tenure as the president had just begun, she completely baffled me by suggesting my name as the Founding Editor in Chief. The rest is history, the first online journal of IADVL was born. Not surprisingly, she became the first woman president of the Indian Association of Dermatologists, Venereologists and Leprologists in 2009. Those were different days, there was no bombardment with pesky reminders for voting and other intrusive methods of trying to ensure votes. She won easily, not only because she was academically and professionally accomplished, but most importantly because she was adored and admired for being the person she was. She never needed to be recognized for what she had done for dermatology in India and occupational dermatology worldwide. She continued her academic pursuits as seriously as ever during her presidency. Her next leadership role for four years where she endeared herself with her simplicity and knowledge was as Regional director of International League of Dermatologic Societies (ILDS). After retiring as Professor of dermatology from Lokmanya Tilak Municipal Medical College, Mumbai she continued to teach in Mahatma Gandhi Medical College in Navi Mumbai till 2019. She became recipient of Prof. K . C. Kandhari foundation award, the highest award of IADVL during DERMACON 2021. She did not enjoy good health and suffered several setbacks in the later years of her life and finally passed away. Unsurprisingly there was a barrage of messages, an outpouring of genuine sentiments and emotions in various dermatology groups upon hearing the sad news. Dr. Anil Abraham, a good friend of hers, meticulously listed the most frequently used adjectives used by people in their messages to describe her. Words like ‘kind, smiling, considerate, helpful, best friend, loved, great soul, affectionate, empathetic, fearless, righteous, gentle and articulate’ topped the list. The sentiment and emotion were uniform. In doing so, Anil not only paid a rich homage to her but once again underscored the importance of being loved and admired for what one is, rather than what one has achieved or done! I have deliberately not elaborated upon her professional and academic achievements because they spoke for themselves, and I am sure many obituaries will mention them. Hemaben was ambitious but not over the top. She displayed her leadership, brilliance and confidence without being obtrusive. She was content and happy with the simple and small things in life. Prof. Meghana Phiske, her long-term student, colleague and friend, reminisces Hemaben’s love for the ‘curd rice’, ‘daal rice with ghee’ and other simple fare that Meghana’s mother and sister-in-law would pack for lunch. Hemaben referred to them as ‘Annapurna’ for providing the delightfully simple and tasty food. She was known to wear tastefully chosen saris and loved the fragant sontakka flowers, the Marathi name for the white garland lily. Memory fades, other prominent members too will leave us, we will all leave one day and life will go on, but you, Hemaben, will never be forgotten for what you were and what you meant to many of us, especially to the IDOJ family. We will remember you amongst other things, for embracing new ideas and taking a plunge with positivity, faith and hope. You will be remembered for making IDOJ a reality. When we look up at the sky and see a twinkling star, with a smile in its brightness, we will say, ‘There she is, watching over us!’ I am sure you are in a much better place, peaceful, pain-free, and sans the negativity, trials and tribulations weathered by mortals. It was a pleasure and honour to enjoy your friendship as a colleague and ‘beta’ over the decades. We will meet one day; we will laugh together and reminisce. Until then, Adieu, dear Hemaben.