In the annals of institutional inertia, few stories stand out quite like the one that unfolded at NIPER Mohali during my tenure as Director. I, Dr. Raghuram Rao Akkinepally, tried to sow the seeds of innovation, specifically through various Memoranda of Understanding (MoUs) aimed at enhancing academic and healthcare infrastructure. What followed was a masterclass in bureaucratic sabotage, courtesy of an unbending Chairman and a chorus of compliant bureaucrats.
Let me begin with a simple, well-intentioned idea: an Ayurveda and Panchkarma Therapy Centre. A private clinic had approached NIPER Mohali, seeking to establish a therapeutic facility in the campus’s underutilized space. On paper, it was a win-win: a wellness centre for the benefit of faculty, students, and staff families; a real-time research opportunity for scholars in our Department of Natural Products; and a chance to scientifically validate and publish results in traditional medicine, a growing global interest.
But alas, logic and vision were no match for pettiness and power play.
A Vision for Integrated Healthcare
At the heart of my proposal was the creation of an Integrated Healthcare Centre at the NIPER Mohali campus—an ambitious but necessary move to bring Ayurveda, homeopathy, and allopathy under one roof. We had hundreds of residents: 30-odd faculty families, about 800 postgraduate and PhD students, and dozens of staff and scientists with their families. Yet, no campus healthcare facility catered to traditional medicine.
I proposed that four rooms adjacent to the NIPER dispensary—largely unused—could be repurposed to house the Panchkarma unit. One room was being used as a crèche, which I suggested relocating to one of the many vacant faculty houses. The goal was simple: set up a sustainable centre where patients could pay for consultation and therapy, and later be reimbursed by the institute as per norms.
The academic benefits? Immeasurable. Students and faculty could conduct hands-on research in real clinical settings. Therapies and formulations could be tested, standardised, and published. It would’ve been a perfect blend of academic inquiry and public good.
A Chairman Who Refused to Listen
But Dr. V.M. Katoch, then Chairman of the Board of Governors, wasn’t interested in possibilities or progress. He had no substantial objections to the content of the MoUs I proposed—just a categorical dismissal based on the fact that they were proposed by me. His opposition wasn’t grounded in science, policy, or procedure. It was personal.
He offered no suggestions, no alternate plans, no constructive criticism—just an adamant “no.”
And he wasn’t alone. Backed by the Department of Pharmaceuticals’ representative Mr. Rajneesh Tingal, and Registrar Mr. PJP Singh Waraich, Dr. Katoch formed a trinity of resistance. Together, they not only scuttled the Ayurveda centre idea but also ensured no MoU bearing my name ever saw daylight.
Double Standards and Institutional Hypocrisy
Here’s the kicker: during the tenure of Dr. Kamlesh Kumar Bhutani, who served as Officiating Director before me, MoUs were signed freely, without oversight from the Board of Governors, without the Chairman’s scrutiny, and certainly without bureaucratic hurdles.
No one raised an eyebrow back then.
But when I, a regular Director appointed through due process, sought similar permissions for MoUs in the interest of the Institute, the goalposts suddenly moved. On April 24, 2018, I formally wrote to Dr. Katoch. Two days later, he responded, saying all MoUs now had to be presented to the Board. The rules had changed—conveniently and retroactively.
This wasn’t governance. It was obstruction.
Institutional Damage Beyond Repair
What was lost wasn’t just a few partnerships or a wellness clinic. What was lost was momentum—a chance for NIPER Mohali to position itself as a pioneer in integrated healthcare research. We had the students, the space, the intent, and the collaborators. What we didn’t have was the administrative will.
The damage? Long-lasting. The Ayurveda centre never took off. Students lost access to unique research opportunities. The campus continued to lack adequate medical facilities. And the idea of collaborative science, that great cornerstone of academia, was sacrificed at the altar of ego.
Mr. Waraich remains the Registrar. Mr. Tingal continues to wield influence. And Dr. Katoch’s tenure will be remembered not for what he built, but for what he systematically dismantled.
This is not a tale of one rejected MoU. It’s a cautionary story about how institutions rot from the top when personal vendettas override public interest. What could have been a revolutionary step toward holistic healthcare and evidence-based traditional medicine became yet another casualty of India’s deep-rooted bureaucratic resistance to change.
Innovation doesn’t die in labs. It dies in boardrooms—choked by red tape, crushed by egos, and buried under official silence.
And at NIPER Mohali, it died a quiet, unnecessary death.
