University of New England

A Few Good Questions: Punitha Shivaprasad, UNECOM Class of '08

[Editor's note: This profile originally appeared in the May 2006 COMmunicator]

Question One

Punitha Shivaprasad received her first marriage proposal at the age of 15. By the time she was 17, the offers were flooding in at a thoroughly impractical rate. Her father decided to stem the tide by calling his only daughter back to India to choose a suitable marriage partner. With a long list of potential beaus and a short list of really good questions, Punitha prepared to select her life partner.

The first man she saw was a 21-year old medical student named Shivaprasad. Quiet, gentle, and keenly intelligent, Shivaprasad must have sweated a bit as the lovely Indian girl looked him squarely in the face and stated: “I can’t cook. What do you think about that?” Indian culture expects every woman to cook for her husband, but the Americanized Punitha had concentrated on her studies at the expense of certain traditional traits. The simple question was fraught with meaning, and both young people knew it. Shivaprasad shifted in his chair and composed his reply…

Cultivating a Beautiful Mind

Born in Bangalore, India, to a family of the elite Lingayata-Brahmin caste, Punitha knew the amenities of an enormous city and the privileges of an ancient culture. Yet it was the bedraggled villages with their lack of basic necessities that captured her heart. Her village-dwelling grandmother had died at an early age from a case of pneumonia that could have been treated with simple antibiotics. The disparity in medical services available in India convinced Punitha that her calling was to become a doctor. She vowed to excel academically in order to become the best physician possible.

A convent school, tired remnant of British colonial rule, officially harbored Punitha’s young mind, but in truth it was her grandfather who cultured her. He taught her right from wrong, schooled her in Sanskrit and English, quizzed her with math problems, and told her fables to instill a strong moral sense. It was her grandfather who explained to her the Hindu law of karma, the law that says that all of a person’s actions come back to them in this life or the next. And it was her grandfather who taught her to wonder at the common marvels all around.

Punitha’s ponytails bobbed in the grass as she caught and examined little creatures, inspecting every spot on a toad and asking her grandfather a thousand “Why’s?” The unorthodox education prepared her far better than other children to study, research, and ask good questions. She always asked good questions.

Question Two
 
A wife who couldn’t cook? It should have torpedoed any girl’s chances of marriage. Traditional Indians frowned at the thought, but forward-minded Shivaprasad smiled warmly and said, “We can learn together.” Punitha softened inwardly as the young prospect passed his first test. To others, it may have seemed a trivial matter, but to an Indian girl who knew that she was meant to be a doctor, the question of roles was critical. Would she be allowed to pursue her dreams in healthcare? Would her husband respect her sense of calling? The matter was settled.

Punitha turned over the next question in her mind like a pitcher preparing her delivery. A curveball might baffle the most composed of batters, and the dark-haired gentleman before her seemed a little too poised. How could she find out if the man would truly listen to her thoughts and opinions? How would she know if he would truly value his wife and children, or if he would start sweet and then turn sour?

With innocent delivery, Punitha sent the question spinning: “Do you read the newspaper?” Shivaprasad may have pursed his lips at such a simple question, so unlike the first. He knew Punitha was sharp as a Persian scimitar. Was this a trick? What response would win the girl’s heart? He agonized inwardly as the question dipped and spun. This could be the end of his chances, but he had to take a swing…

The State of Arizona, and Arizona State

Punitha’s family immigrated to the United States when she was ten. Her parents had the consuming passion to provide the best education possible for their children to achieve the American dream. Punitha took a standard test for academic aptitude, and the administrators were stunned when the pony-tailed girl achieved a 10th grade level.She decided to start 9th grade - so as not to jump ahead too fast! - and began classes at Cactus High in Glendale, Arizona. The experience was unusual in many ways, as the young Indian girl settled into classes with students half-again her age. She focused intensely on her studies. “My teachers were very protective,” says Punitha.

Graduating from high school with high marks, Punitha enrolled at Arizona State University when she was 15. Again she excelled, but when she was 17 the call came from her father to return to India to marry. It was a summons she would not refuse, though it was sure to interrupt her studies. She was confident that she would either find her soul-mate or disillusion her suitors so that they would leave. Either way, she would be free to pursue her dreams. 

Question Three

As a moral man, Shivaprasad opted for honesty. Even if it were to cost him the approval of this woman, he had to keep his integrity. Did he read the newspaper? He looked at the twinkling-eyed girl in front of him and said, “Yes, but only the headlines.” It was just right. Punitha couldn’t stand men who read the newspaper for hours from front to back. She thought that it stole time better spent on career and family. A man who stayed informed but spared his family the expense of lost hours was a man who would know proper balance in life. She liked that.

Shivaprasad passed his second test and kept his integrity in the process. Punitha began to admire the noble qualities of the quiet medical student who sat smiling before her. Still, her last question remained unasked, and it was a clear challenge to traditional Indian mores. She doubted Shivaprasad would accept it. Prepared for flames, she nevertheless stated, “As you know, Indian marriages are expected to be 80/20, with the husband ruling over the wife. For me, it has to be 50/50. Would you accept this?” 99 out of 100 Indian men would have left in a huff at the very thought. Shivaprasad gripped the arms of his chair and answered as firmly as his gentle voice would allow…           

No Ring but a Doctor’s

Punitha transferred to Michigan State after she returned from India, following her husband as he sought work. When she graduated summa cum laude, she refused to buy a class ring. Her husband urged her to do so as a keepsake. “No,” Punitha said firmly, “I will wear no ring but a doctor’s.” Such was her resolve.

She bore children, one, two, and then a third. As a new mother, Punitha’s responsibilities shifted from academic to maternal. Yet she could not deny the burning desire to become a physician. It was her calling. She took night classes to earn a Master’s degree, graduating with highest honors and then starting research in cutting-edge cancer studies at Robert Wood Johnson University Hospital in New Brunswick, New Jersey. She had a paper published in Gastroenterology magazine. She established a health clinic in New Jersey. Despite these accomplishments, she was not fully happy. Her calling was as a physician.

What’s in a Name?

An egalitarian marriage between two Indians? The idea was preposterous to a culture still encased in caste and patriarchical traditions from time immemorial. Punitha’s demand for equal roles had surely scuttled her chances with this fine prospect. As Shivaprasad gripped the arms of his chair, Punitha prepared for a firestorm. What were the chances that any man could meet her criteria, let alone a man she would want to marry? Shivaprasad leaned forward, looked Punitha in the eyes (here it came!), and said stoutly, “Let us be the 50/50 couple.” Punitha had found her soul-mate. After a one-month engagement, the couple was married.

In India, a woman takes her husband’s name as surname. Punitha became Punitha Shivaprasad, and the name could not fit better. It embodies the concept of teamwork, synergy, and self-sacrifice that both have learned. The two are the best of friends and the freshest of lovers. In a recent interview, Punitha rarely spoke longer than a minute without referencing the help and support of her husband in her quest to become a physician. The mutual support has buoyed each spouse when times have been tough. Punitha says that their common focus to save life and better humanity reinforces their love for each other. “When I see him, it is like the first time every time!” she says, “Our love just grows and grows.”

The couple immigrated to the United States after Shivaprasad earned his MD in India. The degree was not transferable, however, so the brilliant Indian worked at a 7-Eleven for six months as he studied to pass the boards. Just to enter the States, Shivaprasad had to take an entrance examination that ruthlessly weeded out 96% of applicants. He passed without trouble. Punitha remembers that her husband studied for medical boards in the only quiet place in their two-room apartment: the bathroom. She chuckles at the memory of her doctor-husband surrounded by books on the covered toilet seat. He passed both exams within a year, and set a new record at the Kaplan testing site. Soon the newly licensed physician was puddle-jumping around the country from one residency to the next, until he finally set up a thriving practice in New Jersey. Patients loved his gentle, expert manner, and booked him months in advance.

Punitha’s Wings

Punitha rejoiced at her husband’s success and satisfaction, and she rejoiced that he was able to send generous amounts of money to support clinics, temples, and individual students in India. But she longed to partner in the process as a physician, not just as a supporting wife. With three young children, she did not think medical school was possible. But Shivaprasad disagreed. He told her, “You will grow old no matter what. You can either sit in a corner and grow old, or we can achieve and grow old together.” His encouragement gave her wings to try.

At Shivaprasad’s advice, Punitha applied to osteopathic schools. “My husband’s friends were all DO’s,” says Punitha, “and he really liked their philosophy of holistic medicine and whole-person treatment. It meshes with Hindu beliefs, and it seemed a much more compassionate and humane approach to medicine.” Punitha did some research of her own, read A.T. Still’s autobiography, and was sold on the concept of disease-prevention. She knew she wanted to become a DO.

UNECOM sold itself. “My interview with Dr. Koester (Associate Professor of Anatomy) sealed the fact that I wanted to come here,” says Punitha. “I felt so comfortable and at-home. I like the class size, and I love the genuineness and honesty of the faculty here. I like that I can be honest with my profs if I disagree.” She had shadowed a UNECOM alum, Dr. Jesse Stawicki, who was wonderful with patients and who promoted the school. Punitha herself has become a tour guide to introduce prospective students to the advantages of the College. “I love this school,” she says with genuine enthusiasm.

Back to the Future

Her medical education has not come without a price. Punitha’s family lives in New Jersey where her husband has his practice. Every Thursday or Friday, Punitha drives up to the Portland Jetport, waits (sometimes for hours), then catches a flight home to New Jersey to be with her family. She reverses the process on Sunday. It is an exhausting schedule, without peer among her fellow students. “When I am at UNECOM, I am a full-time student,” she says, “but when I step off the plane in New Jersey, I am a full-time mommy.” From that moment until she gets back on the plane to Portland, Punitha does not crack a book.

How does she do it? “Time management is critical for success in any field,” Punitha says, “I learned that while earning my Master’s degree. You also must be sure to do something you really enjoy each day.” She goes to bed between 1:30 and 2am, and rises at 6am every morning. Every moment is accounted for, including half an hour of relaxation time after dinner. “I maximize my weekdays to study class material as it is taught,” she says, “by the time of a test, I have reviewed the material two or three times and do not need to cram.”

It is a brutal, grinding schedule, but all for a higher purpose. Punitha wants to set up a network of clinics in India to make healthcare accessible to the villagers. “I want to work with my husband in his practice, but also take three months a year to visit India and coordinate these clinics,” she says, “I have already told my husband this. It will happen.” Then she adds emphatically, “I do not need to be here [at UNECOM]. I want to be here, because I want to give healthcare to those who cannot afford it.” Her husband’s support, and the thought of the villagers dying without medicine motivate her whenever things seem too tough. Her parents, too, have thrown their full support behind Punitha, encouraging her to pursue her dream of medical education and human service.

Still, Punitha is glad that her current commuting situation is temporary. “I do not think I could do it for much longer,” she says, “but my rotations will be in New Jersey, and that will be much better. I want to be with my family.” Her husband senses her exhaustion and whisks her off to India from time to time for a long vacation. Punitha is reinvigorated each time, and is reminded of why she is working so hard in the present. With a faraway look she says, “It will be worth all the effort.” 

No question.

-Steve Smith, RSAS