Christmas was joyfully observed at Aastha Health Resort with great warmth and enthusiasm. Senior citizens spent a delightful evening filled with melodious songs, laughter, and festive cheer. Special Christmas delicacies were served, adding to the spirit of celebration. A few seniors, dressed as Santa Claus, brought smiles all around as they distributed gifts among residents and guests. The celebration was further enriched by the presence of dedicated volunteers, friends, and visitors who actively participated and shared moments of togetherness. The event created a heartwarming atmosphere, spreading joy, love, and the true spirit of Christmas among everyone present.
Wishing 85th 🎂 Birthday to Dr. R. K. S. Chauhan, former Director of Agriculture (UP). On this special occasion, his loving daughters elder daughter Rashmi Singh and younger daughter Ritu Gahlaut joyfully shared sweets with the elderly patients and staff, spreading smiles all around.
Dr. Chauhan is a regular patient at Aastha Geriatric Centre, and over time he has become family to us. Fondly and lovingly, everyone here knows him as “Daddu.”
To make the celebration even more special, the family has also made arrangements for dinner to celebrate his birthday eve with all of us at Aastha.
The entire Aastha Geriatric Centre team extends heartfelt birthday wishes to Dr. Chauhan. May the Almighty bless him with good health, happiness, and many more beautiful years ahead.
माननीय डॉ. नीरज बोरा जी, लखनऊ उत्तर के विधायक, एक चिकित्सक होने के साथ-साथ जनस्वास्थ्य और सामाजिक सेवा के प्रति गहरी प्रतिबद्धता रखने वाले जनप्रतिनिधि हैं। स्वास्थ्य से जुड़े मुद्दों को वे केवल नीति के रूप में नहीं, बल्कि मानवीय दृष्टिकोण से समझते हैं, यही बात उन्हें विशिष्ट बनाती है। आस्था के वार्षिक स्वास्थ्य शिविर में उनकी उपस्थिति और प्रोत्साहन ने पूरे आयोजन को नई ऊर्जा दी। आस्था हॉस्पिस एवं जेरियाट्रिक केयर सेंटर के कार्यों के प्रति उनका निरंतर सहयोग और विश्वास हमारे लिए अत्यंत प्रेरणादायक है। ऐसे नेतृत्व के साथ समाज में सार्थक और स्थायी बदलाव संभव होता है।
The Meaning of a Good Death Redefining Dignity in End-of-Life Care By Dr. Abhishek Shukla Death has a strange way of humbling us. No matter how advanced medicine becomes, how many lives we save, or how skilled we grow as doctors, there comes a moment when our role changes. We can no longer cure, but we can still care. And sometimes, that care is all that truly matters. Over the years, working in palliative and geriatric medicine has changed the way I see life, and even more so, the way I see death. I have come to realise that dying well is as important as living well. Yet, in most hospitals, the idea of a “good death” still sounds uncomfortable, almost contradictory. We tend to equate death with failure. The patient’s heart stops, the monitor flatlines, and somewhere in our minds, we register defeat. But should it really be so? A good death is not about giving up. It is about knowing when to stop fighting against life, and start living with what remains of it. It is about comfort, clarity, and control, three things that often disappear when illness takes over. I remember an elderly man with end-stage lung disease who once told me, “Doctor, I am not afraid of dying. I am only afraid of dying in pain, surrounded by noise.” His words stayed with me. We managed his breathlessness, adjusted his medication, and helped his family understand what was happening. He passed away two weeks later, quietly, at home, with his wife holding his hand. It was not a tragedy, it was closure. That, to me, is dignity. Dignity is not found in a hospital monitor flashing green lines. It is in the small, human moments, when a patient is allowed to choose whether they want another round of chemotherapy, when their wish to go home is respected, or when their pain is finally controlled enough for them to sleep peacefully after nights of struggle. Another patient I’ll never forget was a retired schoolteacher with advanced breast cancer. She was in her early seventies and had already undergone multiple treatments. Her daughter kept insisting on more aggressive therapy, desperate to keep her mother alive. One day, when I sat beside her, she said softly, “I have taught all my life that endings are a part of every story. Why is everyone so afraid of mine?” We arranged for her discharge and home-based palliative support. She spent her last weeks surrounded by her students and grandchildren, not sterile walls and machines. That conversation changed something in me. It reminded me that healing isn’t always about doing more, sometimes, it’s about knowing when to do less. As doctors, we are trained to prolong life, not to prepare for death. We fill our days learning about resuscitation, ventilators, and the latest life-extending drugs. But we are rarely taught how to sit with a grieving family, how to speak honestly about what lies ahead, or how to guide someone gently from curative medicine to comfort care. Yet, this is where the true essence of our profession lies, not just in saving lives, but in safeguarding dignity. In India, death is still a difficult conversation. Families often ask doctors not to tell patients their diagnosis or prognosis, fearing it will break their spirit. But what we forget is that people have the right to know the truth about their own bodies. They have the right to decide how they wish to spend their remaining time, whether it is pursuing more treatment, or simply being at home, with their loved ones, in peace. There is a misconception that palliative care means “doing nothing.” In reality, it is about doing everything that truly matters. It is about managing pain, anxiety, sleeplessness, breathlessness, and fear. It is about ensuring that a patient is never alone in their final journey. It is as active and scientific as any other branch of medicine, only, its goal is not to extend life at any cost, but to preserve its quality till the very end. We often talk about dignity in living, in independence, in work, in social status. But there is an equally profound dignity in how one departs. It lies in being able to say goodbye, in meeting loved ones, in having unfinished words spoken and small wishes fulfilled. It lies in being clean, comfortable, and cared for, not restrained or intubated in a hospital bed. Our healthcare system must make space for that dignity. We need more hospices, more palliative care units, and above all, more sensitivity. End-of-life care should not be seen as an afterthought; it should be an integral part of medical care. The final chapter of life should not be written in sterile hospital corridors, filled with alarms and anxieties. It should be written in peace, with hands held, prayers whispered, and faces familiar. Every time I stand beside a patient in their last moments, I am reminded that death is not the opposite of life. It is a part of it. The goal, therefore, is not to fight death, but to make sure that when it comes, it finds us ready, not broken. I have seen patients who left this world in silence and calm, their faces relaxed, their families comforted by the thought that their loved one did not suffer. I have also seen the other side, panic, pain, and confusion, and the difference often lies in one thing: communication. When doctors and families talk honestly, when expectations are clear, when we prepare for what is coming, death becomes less frightening. It becomes a shared experience of acceptance rather than denial. In the end, the meaning of a good death is to be free from pain, to be surrounded by love, and to be treated with respect till the very last breath. That is not too much to ask for. It is what every human being deserves, a death that honours the life that came before it.
It was a genuine honour to meet Prof. Neil Poulter. He is one of the most respected figures in the field of hypertension, and spending even a few moments with him was truly special. His calm presence, clear thinking and lifelong work for better heart and blood pressure care are deeply inspiring.
Meeting seniors like him reminds me how much there is to learn and how important it is to stay grounded and committed to good clinical work. I am grateful for this moment and the encouragement it brings to continue serving with sincerity.
The recent death of a senior IPS officer has left the nation stunned, not only because a decorated officer ended his life, but because of what his family has alleged since. They have refused the post-mortem, demanding justice before allowing the final rites. Their claim, that the officer faced caste-based humiliation, has reopened long-standing debates around discrimination, dignity, and equality, even at the highest levels of service.
Every such tragedy demands two things, sensitivity and honesty. Sensitivity, because a life has been lost and a family is grieving. Honesty, because behind such incidents lie truths that our society must confront, however uncomfortable they may be.
The first question is about the alleged caste-based discrimination. The family has stated that as members of a Scheduled Caste community, they felt isolated and mistreated. If this is indeed true, it reflects a painful reality, that even within the highest echelons of the Indian bureaucracy and police service, prejudice can persist. The Indian Constitution promises equality, but equality is not just a law, it’s a mindset. When an officer who has risen through merit and dedication still feels marginalised due to caste, it indicates that systemic and attitudinal reform is far from complete.
However, while we acknowledge this possibility, we must also be careful not to draw conclusions before the investigation is complete. The atmosphere in services such as the police or administration is often highly competitive, hierarchical, and stressful. Mental health struggles, professional pressure, and interpersonal conflicts can all play a part in pushing someone toward despair. Hence, the issue must be examined in its entirety, not reduced to a single explanation, nor brushed aside because it involves difficult truths.
The second issue the family has raised, the filing of a case and their continued reference to caste-based reservation, opens up a wider debate. Reservation was envisioned as a tool of social justice, to ensure representation and opportunity for those historically denied them. It has served as a bridge for many to cross into education, employment, and empowerment. Yet, what happens once an individual has reached the topmost rungs of professional life, serving as an IPS or IAS officer? Should they still be viewed through the lens of marginalisation, or should they now be symbols of equality and integration?
This question is not to undermine the pain the family feels, but to explore a deeper societal contradiction. If a person has reached such a distinguished position in national service, their identity should ideally transcend caste. They represent the Indian state, impartial, dignified, and committed to justice for all. If such an individual still feels cornered or mistreated because of caste, we must ask, is the problem within the system, or within society’s collective mindset that continues to see people through the prism of caste, no matter how accomplished they are?
Equally, if reservation continues to be invoked repeatedly as a symbol of protection even after attaining social and professional mobility, it raises a complex question; have we truly achieved equality, or are we trapped between historical wrongs and present insecurities? The answer is not simple, it lies in creating a system where equality is not just a policy, but a practice, and where respect is earned and given without prejudice.
At the same time, one cannot ignore the mental health aspect of such cases. The police and administrative services are among the most demanding professions in the country. Officers are expected to handle pressure, public scrutiny, and political expectations, often at the cost of their own emotional well-being. The stigma around mental health, particularly in uniformed services, prevents many from seeking help. Perhaps the need of the hour is not only structural reform but also emotional and psychological support systems within the services.
Whether one is a senior officer or a junior constable, every individual deserves respect and fair treatment. Yet, the responsibility also lies on us as a society, to stop viewing one another through labels of caste, class, or privilege, and instead through the shared humanity we all possess.
Justice must be done, not just through investigations or legal action, but by ensuring that such incidents do not repeat themselves. The real tribute to a life lost in service is not in assigning blame, but in learning from what went wrong and creating an environment where every officer, regardless of background, feels valued, respected, and supported.
In the end, the tragedy of one officer must awaken a larger truth, that equality cannot just be demanded; it must be lived, felt, and ensured in every aspect of our institutions and our minds.
The lower ribs in this X-ray look unusually thin and almost “fading out”. These floating ribs naturally appear smaller… but here they look very faint and poorly defined. What do you think this suggests? Normal variation or early sign of weak bone density / osteopenia? Drop your opinion 👇
Pink Wave – Breast Cancer Awareness 5th October 2025, 6:30 AM onwards, 1090, Lucknow
Association of 41 Clubs of India, Area 9, in association with SGPGI Breast Health Program, is organizing Pink Wave, a Walkathon and Vintage Car Rally to raise awareness on Breast Cancer.
Program Highlights: Walkathon: 1090 → River Front → Lohia Park → back to 1090 Vintage Car Rally:!1090 → Rumi Darwaza → back Chipping & Putting Competition at Golf Club
Chief Guest: Mr. Amit Ghosh (IAS), Principal Secretary to Govt. of UP, Medical Health & Family Welfare & Medical Education Department, Lucknow.
The event aims to empower women and unite society against breast cancer, one pink ribbon at a time. Free T-shirts (first come, first serve) and refreshments will be available.
Let us join hands to spread awareness, support, and hope.
On this International Day of Older Persons, let us all pledge: No elder in our community should feel neglected, lonely, or without dignity. Our elders gave us our today, let us give them a better tomorrow.
Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
Christmas was joyfully observed at Aastha Health Resort with great warmth and enthusiasm. Senior citizens spent a delightful evening filled with melodious songs, laughter, and festive cheer. Special Christmas delicacies were served, adding to the spirit of celebration. A few seniors, dressed as Santa Claus, brought smiles all around as they distributed gifts among residents and guests. The celebration was further enriched by the presence of dedicated volunteers, friends, and visitors who actively participated and shared moments of togetherness. The event created a heartwarming atmosphere, spreading joy, love, and the true spirit of Christmas among everyone present.
5 days ago | [YT] | 676
View 9 replies
Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
Wishing 85th 🎂 Birthday to Dr. R. K. S. Chauhan, former Director of Agriculture (UP). On this special occasion, his loving daughters elder daughter Rashmi Singh and younger daughter Ritu Gahlaut joyfully shared sweets with the elderly patients and staff, spreading smiles all around.
Dr. Chauhan is a regular patient at Aastha Geriatric Centre, and over time he has become family to us. Fondly and lovingly, everyone here knows him as “Daddu.”
To make the celebration even more special, the family has also made arrangements for dinner to celebrate his birthday eve with all of us at Aastha.
The entire Aastha Geriatric Centre team extends heartfelt birthday wishes to Dr. Chauhan.
May the Almighty bless him with good health, happiness, and many more beautiful years ahead.
1 week ago | [YT] | 474
View 6 replies
Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
माननीय डॉ. नीरज बोरा जी, लखनऊ उत्तर के विधायक, एक चिकित्सक होने के साथ-साथ जनस्वास्थ्य और सामाजिक सेवा के प्रति गहरी प्रतिबद्धता रखने वाले जनप्रतिनिधि हैं। स्वास्थ्य से जुड़े मुद्दों को वे केवल नीति के रूप में नहीं, बल्कि मानवीय दृष्टिकोण से समझते हैं, यही बात उन्हें विशिष्ट बनाती है।
आस्था के वार्षिक स्वास्थ्य शिविर में उनकी उपस्थिति और प्रोत्साहन ने पूरे आयोजन को नई ऊर्जा दी। आस्था हॉस्पिस एवं जेरियाट्रिक केयर सेंटर के कार्यों के प्रति उनका निरंतर सहयोग और विश्वास हमारे लिए अत्यंत प्रेरणादायक है। ऐसे नेतृत्व के साथ समाज में सार्थक और स्थायी बदलाव संभव होता है।
#DrNeerajBora #LucknowNorth #PublicService #DoctorInPolitics #HealthForAll #CommunityHealth #AasthaGeriatricCare #ElderlyCare #ServiceWithCompassion #JanSeva #PreventiveHealthcare #DrAbhishekShukla #AasthaCares
1 week ago | [YT] | 598
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Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
The Meaning of a Good Death
Redefining Dignity in End-of-Life Care
By Dr. Abhishek Shukla
Death has a strange way of humbling us. No matter how advanced medicine becomes, how many lives we save, or how skilled we grow as doctors, there comes a moment when our role changes. We can no longer cure, but we can still care. And sometimes, that care is all that truly matters.
Over the years, working in palliative and geriatric medicine has changed the way I see life, and even more so, the way I see death. I have come to realise that dying well is as important as living well. Yet, in most hospitals, the idea of a “good death” still sounds uncomfortable, almost contradictory. We tend to equate death with failure. The patient’s heart stops, the monitor flatlines, and somewhere in our minds, we register defeat. But should it really be so?
A good death is not about giving up. It is about knowing when to stop fighting against life, and start living with what remains of it. It is about comfort, clarity, and control, three things that often disappear when illness takes over.
I remember an elderly man with end-stage lung disease who once told me, “Doctor, I am not afraid of dying. I am only afraid of dying in pain, surrounded by noise.” His words stayed with me. We managed his breathlessness, adjusted his medication, and helped his family understand what was happening. He passed away two weeks later, quietly, at home, with his wife holding his hand. It was not a tragedy, it was closure. That, to me, is dignity.
Dignity is not found in a hospital monitor flashing green lines. It is in the small, human moments, when a patient is allowed to choose whether they want another round of chemotherapy, when their wish to go home is respected, or when their pain is finally controlled enough for them to sleep peacefully after nights of struggle.
Another patient I’ll never forget was a retired schoolteacher with advanced breast cancer. She was in her early seventies and had already undergone multiple treatments. Her daughter kept insisting on more aggressive therapy, desperate to keep her mother alive. One day, when I sat beside her, she said softly, “I have taught all my life that endings are a part of every story. Why is everyone so afraid of mine?” We arranged for her discharge and home-based palliative support. She spent her last weeks surrounded by her students and grandchildren, not sterile walls and machines.
That conversation changed something in me. It reminded me that healing isn’t always about doing more, sometimes, it’s about knowing when to do less.
As doctors, we are trained to prolong life, not to prepare for death. We fill our days learning about resuscitation, ventilators, and the latest life-extending drugs. But we are rarely taught how to sit with a grieving family, how to speak honestly about what lies ahead, or how to guide someone gently from curative medicine to comfort care. Yet, this is where the true essence of our profession lies, not just in saving lives, but in safeguarding dignity.
In India, death is still a difficult conversation. Families often ask doctors not to tell patients their diagnosis or prognosis, fearing it will break their spirit. But what we forget is that people have the right to know the truth about their own bodies. They have the right to decide how they wish to spend their remaining time, whether it is pursuing more treatment, or simply being at home, with their loved ones, in peace.
There is a misconception that palliative care means “doing nothing.” In reality, it is about doing everything that truly matters. It is about managing pain, anxiety, sleeplessness, breathlessness, and fear. It is about ensuring that a patient is never alone in their final journey. It is as active and scientific as any other branch of medicine, only, its goal is not to extend life at any cost, but to preserve its quality till the very end.
We often talk about dignity in living, in independence, in work, in social status. But there is an equally profound dignity in how one departs. It lies in being able to say goodbye, in meeting loved ones, in having unfinished words spoken and small wishes fulfilled. It lies in being clean, comfortable, and cared for, not restrained or intubated in a hospital bed.
Our healthcare system must make space for that dignity. We need more hospices, more palliative care units, and above all, more sensitivity. End-of-life care should not be seen as an afterthought; it should be an integral part of medical care. The final chapter of life should not be written in sterile hospital corridors, filled with alarms and anxieties. It should be written in peace, with hands held, prayers whispered, and faces familiar.
Every time I stand beside a patient in their last moments, I am reminded that death is not the opposite of life. It is a part of it. The goal, therefore, is not to fight death, but to make sure that when it comes, it finds us ready, not broken. I have seen patients who left this world in silence and calm, their faces relaxed, their families comforted by the thought that their loved one did not suffer. I have also seen the other side, panic, pain, and confusion, and the difference often lies in one thing: communication.
When doctors and families talk honestly, when expectations are clear, when we prepare for what is coming, death becomes less frightening. It becomes a shared experience of acceptance rather than denial.
In the end, the meaning of a good death is to be free from pain, to be surrounded by love, and to be treated with respect till the very last breath. That is not too much to ask for. It is what every human being deserves, a death that honours the life that came before it.
3 weeks ago | [YT] | 300
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Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
It was a genuine honour to meet Prof. Neil Poulter. He is one of the most respected figures in the field of hypertension, and spending even a few moments with him was truly special. His calm presence, clear thinking and lifelong work for better heart and blood pressure care are deeply inspiring.
Meeting seniors like him reminds me how much there is to learn and how important it is to stay grounded and committed to good clinical work. I am grateful for this moment and the encouragement it brings to continue serving with sincerity.
#ProfNeilPoulter #HypertensionCare #CardiovascularHealth #MedicalLeadership #Inspiration
#AasthaCares
#DrAbhishekShukla
3 weeks ago | [YT] | 796
View 7 replies
Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
A Tragedy That Raises Difficult Questions
The recent death of a senior IPS officer has left the nation stunned, not only because a decorated officer ended his life, but because of what his family has alleged since. They have refused the post-mortem, demanding justice before allowing the final rites. Their claim, that the officer faced caste-based humiliation, has reopened long-standing debates around discrimination, dignity, and equality, even at the highest levels of service.
Every such tragedy demands two things, sensitivity and honesty. Sensitivity, because a life has been lost and a family is grieving. Honesty, because behind such incidents lie truths that our society must confront, however uncomfortable they may be.
The first question is about the alleged caste-based discrimination. The family has stated that as members of a Scheduled Caste community, they felt isolated and mistreated. If this is indeed true, it reflects a painful reality, that even within the highest echelons of the Indian bureaucracy and police service, prejudice can persist. The Indian Constitution promises equality, but equality is not just a law, it’s a mindset. When an officer who has risen through merit and dedication still feels marginalised due to caste, it indicates that systemic and attitudinal reform is far from complete.
However, while we acknowledge this possibility, we must also be careful not to draw conclusions before the investigation is complete. The atmosphere in services such as the police or administration is often highly competitive, hierarchical, and stressful. Mental health struggles, professional pressure, and interpersonal conflicts can all play a part in pushing someone toward despair. Hence, the issue must be examined in its entirety, not reduced to a single explanation, nor brushed aside because it involves difficult truths.
The second issue the family has raised, the filing of a case and their continued reference to caste-based reservation, opens up a wider debate. Reservation was envisioned as a tool of social justice, to ensure representation and opportunity for those historically denied them. It has served as a bridge for many to cross into education, employment, and empowerment. Yet, what happens once an individual has reached the topmost rungs of professional life, serving as an IPS or IAS officer? Should they still be viewed through the lens of marginalisation, or should they now be symbols of equality and integration?
This question is not to undermine the pain the family feels, but to explore a deeper societal contradiction. If a person has reached such a distinguished position in national service, their identity should ideally transcend caste. They represent the Indian state, impartial, dignified, and committed to justice for all. If such an individual still feels cornered or mistreated because of caste, we must ask, is the problem within the system, or within society’s collective mindset that continues to see people through the prism of caste, no matter how accomplished they are?
Equally, if reservation continues to be invoked repeatedly as a symbol of protection even after attaining social and professional mobility, it raises a complex question; have we truly achieved equality, or are we trapped between historical wrongs and present insecurities? The answer is not simple, it lies in creating a system where equality is not just a policy, but a practice, and where respect is earned and given without prejudice.
At the same time, one cannot ignore the mental health aspect of such cases. The police and administrative services are among the most demanding professions in the country. Officers are expected to handle pressure, public scrutiny, and political expectations, often at the cost of their own emotional well-being. The stigma around mental health, particularly in uniformed services, prevents many from seeking help. Perhaps the need of the hour is not only structural reform but also emotional and psychological support systems within the services.
Whether one is a senior officer or a junior constable, every individual deserves respect and fair treatment. Yet, the responsibility also lies on us as a society, to stop viewing one another through labels of caste, class, or privilege, and instead through the shared humanity we all possess.
Justice must be done, not just through investigations or legal action, but by ensuring that such incidents do not repeat themselves. The real tribute to a life lost in service is not in assigning blame, but in learning from what went wrong and creating an environment where every officer, regardless of background, feels valued, respected, and supported.
In the end, the tragedy of one officer must awaken a larger truth, that equality cannot just be demanded; it must be lived, felt, and ensured in every aspect of our institutions and our minds.
1 month ago | [YT] | 127
View 5 replies
Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
The lower ribs in this X-ray look unusually thin and almost “fading out”. These floating ribs naturally appear smaller… but here they look very faint and poorly defined. What do you think this suggests? Normal variation or early sign of weak bone density / osteopenia?
Drop your opinion 👇
#XrayCase #RadiologyDiscussion #MedicalLearning #BoneHealth #RibAnatomy #FloatingRibs #Osteopenia #WeakBone
#DrAbhishekShukla
#AasthaCares
1 month ago | [YT] | 97
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Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
ClinicalCase DermatologyQuiz
2 months ago | [YT] | 95
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Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
Pink Wave – Breast Cancer Awareness
5th October 2025, 6:30 AM onwards, 1090, Lucknow
Association of 41 Clubs of India, Area 9, in association with SGPGI Breast Health Program, is organizing Pink Wave, a Walkathon and Vintage Car Rally to raise awareness on Breast Cancer.
Program Highlights:
Walkathon: 1090 → River Front → Lohia Park → back to 1090
Vintage Car Rally:!1090 → Rumi Darwaza → back
Chipping & Putting Competition at Golf Club
Chief Guest: Mr. Amit Ghosh (IAS), Principal Secretary to Govt. of UP, Medical Health & Family Welfare & Medical Education Department, Lucknow.
The event aims to empower women and unite society against breast cancer, one pink ribbon at a time. Free T-shirts (first come, first serve) and refreshments will be available.
Let us join hands to spread awareness, support, and hope.
#PinkWave #AasthaCares #DrAbhishekShukla #BreastCancerAwareness #JoinTheWave
2 months ago | [YT] | 59
View 1 reply
Dr. Abhishek Shukla- Aastha Old Age Hospital
On this International Day of Older Persons, let us all pledge:
No elder in our community should feel neglected, lonely, or without dignity.
Our elders gave us our today, let us give them a better tomorrow.
2 months ago | [YT] | 91
View 2 replies
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