Their appeal is rooted in practicality and fairness, framed by the belief that one can be both a dedicated doctor and a responsible parent.

In a country that speaks often about women empowerment and celebrates doctors as pillars of society, a troubling contradiction continues to unfold inside medical colleges and teaching hospitals. For female postgraduate doctors in Telangana, motherhood has increasingly become a phase marked by anxiety, financial strain, and academic uncertainty rather than care and support. What should be a protected period of recovery and bonding is instead turning into a test of endurance, paperwork, and silence from institutions meant to nurture future specialists.
Junior doctors across the state have now decided that silence is no longer an option. Through a detailed appeal addressed to the Health Minister and the Vice Chancellor of Kaloji Narayana Rao University of Health Sciences, the Telangana Junior Doctors Association has drawn attention to a reality many prefer not to confront. Female postgraduate students who avail maternity leave are navigating a system riddled with ambiguity, delays, and financial penalties that often leave them emotionally drained and professionally vulnerable.
At the core of the issue lies a glaring absence of clear and uniformly enforced guidelines. While maternity leave is officially permitted, the lack of a structured, transparent policy on extensions, rejoining procedures, attendance calculations, and stipend continuity has created a vacuum. This vacuum is being filled by inconsistent interpretations across colleges, departments, and administrative offices. One student’s experience may differ drastically from another’s, even within the same university framework. For a profession that values precision and protocols, such uncertainty is deeply unsettling.
After completing the mandatory maternity leave period, women postgraduates are expected to resume training. In reality, this return is anything but smooth. The rejoining process often begins with the payment of a substantial fee, currently fixed at ₹15,000, a sum that many young doctors find difficult to arrange at a time when household expenses have surged due to childbirth. What follows is an anxious waiting period that can stretch from two weeks to several more, during which university approvals trickle in at an unhurried pace. During this limbo, access to wards, classrooms, and academic activities is frequently denied, even though the student is willing and eager to resume work.
This administrative pause has consequences that go far beyond inconvenience. Attendance registers continue to mark these doctors absent. Clinical exposure is lost. Academic discussions move on without them. Slowly, a sense of exclusion sets in, accompanied by the looming fear of being declared ineligible for examinations due to attendance shortages that were never truly within their control. For women who have already endured the physical demands of pregnancy and childbirth, this added pressure feels unjust and unnecessary.
Financial insecurity compounds the distress. Junior doctors rely heavily on stipends to sustain themselves, particularly those living away from their families. Yet, during the extension period following maternity leave, stipends are routinely withheld. Even after formalities are completed and training resumes, payments are often delayed by several months. This gap creates a cascade of challenges, from difficulty in meeting basic expenses to compromised nutrition and healthcare for both mother and child. The irony is stark: doctors trained to safeguard health are forced to compromise their own well-being.
Adding to this strain is the rigid denial of casual leave during the extension period. Medical emergencies do not pause for administrative convenience, and infants do not adhere to academic calendars. Despite having legitimate leave balances, women doctors are frequently refused time off for postnatal complications or child-related health concerns. The message is that motherhood is an inconvenience the system is unwilling to accommodate.
The associations representing junior and senior resident doctors have pointed out another recurring problem: communication gaps. Colleges often attribute delays to the university, while the university remains difficult to access or respond. In this back-and-forth, the student becomes an afterthought, bearing the consequences of an opaque process with no clear point of accountability. For a system built on hierarchy and order, this lack of coordination undermines trust and morale.
By formally articulating these concerns, the junior doctors have shifted the conversation from individual grievances to systemic reform. Their demands are neither radical nor unreasonable. They are asking for comprehensive and uniform guidelines that clearly outline maternity leave provisions, rejoining timelines, attendance calculations, and stipend disbursement. Such clarity would protect students from arbitrary decisions and ensure that all colleges operate on the same page.
They have also called for the immediate waiver of the rejoining fee, arguing that it serves no academic purpose and only adds financial pressure at a vulnerable time. In a profession already marked by long working hours and modest stipends during training, penalising maternity sends a discouraging signal to women considering specialisation.
Equally important is the demand for uninterrupted stipend support during the extension period. Financial stability is not a luxury; it is essential for recovery, childcare, and mental health. Ensuring regular payments would allow young mothers to focus on their return to training without the constant worry of unpaid bills and delayed reimbursements.
The request to allow casual leave during the extension period reflects a humane understanding of postnatal realities. Flexibility in genuine cases does not weaken discipline; it strengthens loyalty and respect for the institution. When doctors feel supported, they are more likely to give back with commitment and integrity.
This issue is not confined to a single association or moment. Earlier, the Telangana Senior Resident Doctors Association had raised similar concerns, even approaching state and national women’s commissions to seek intervention. Their consistent messaging highlights that this is not an isolated complaint but a persistent structural flaw affecting multiple batches of women doctors across government and private institutions.
The broader implications extend beyond individual hardship. India’s healthcare system depends heavily on its postgraduate doctors, many of whom are women entering demanding specialities. When policies discourage them during crucial life stages, the system risks losing talent, motivation, and continuity of care. Supporting maternity during medical training is not an act of generosity; it is an investment in a resilient healthcare workforce.
From an ethical standpoint, the situation calls for introspection. Medical institutions are spaces where empathy, care, and scientific reasoning are taught and practiced daily. When these values fail to reflect in internal policies, credibility suffers. A system that cannot care for its own healers risks eroding the moral foundation on which patient trust is built.
There is also a legal and rights-based dimension. Maternity benefits are recognised as fundamental to women’s dignity and equality in the workplace. While medical training has its unique demands, these cannot be used to justify policies that effectively penalise childbirth. Aligning university regulations with national labour and health standards would signal a commitment to fairness and gender equity.
For Telangana, which prides itself on advancements in healthcare education and infrastructure, this moment presents an opportunity. By responding with clarity, empathy, and decisive action, authorities can set a precedent for other states. Clear guidelines issued by the university, uniformly enforced across colleges, would reduce confusion and conflict. Timely stipend disbursal systems, monitored centrally, would restore financial confidence. Removing unnecessary fees would demonstrate that motherhood is respected, not taxed.
The voices of junior doctors are not asking for shortcuts or lowered standards. They are asking for a system that recognises the realities of life alongside the rigours of medicine. Their appeal is rooted in practicality and fairness, framed by the belief that one can be both a dedicated doctor and a responsible parent.
As India continues to debate healthcare reforms, workforce shortages, and medical education standards, such ground-level issues deserve urgent attention. Policies crafted in offices must withstand the test of real lives lived in wards, hostels, and homes. Supporting female postgraduate doctors during maternity is not a peripheral concern; it is central to building a sustainable medical education system.
The call from Telangana’s junior doctors is, at its core, a call for dignity. It asks institutions to look beyond files and fees and see the people behind the registration numbers. In doing so, it challenges the healthcare system to live up to its own ideals, ensuring that the hands that heal are themselves held with care when they need it most.
Sunny Parayan
#MaternityRights #DoctorsOfIndia #MedicalEducation #GenderEquity #HealthcareWorkforce #ResidentDoctors #WorkplaceDignity #IndianHealthcare #MedicalReform #DoctorsWellbeing #MaternalHealth #HealthPolicy #EqualityInHealthcare #healthvoice
