Hospitals to healers: India’s healthcare crisis

Meet the healers, working outside modern and scientific medical practices, who attract crowds seeking relief from chronic conditions.

The allure of spiritual healers reflects deeply rooted superstitions that transcend rural and urban divides.  | Photo Credit: Ismat Ara

The upscale Marris Road in Aligarh’s Civil Lines area—lined with multi-storey mansions, high-end stores and American food chains—stands in contrast with the otherwise old and dingy town, overrun with drains and garbage. Just opposite these fancy establishments, on a roadside charpoy sits Baba Augarnath, a self-proclaimed spiritual healer.

This small-time baba, who operates from a makeshift shrine, claims to cure chronic medical conditions with his profound knowledge. With an air of mysticism, Baba Augarnath draws curious onlookers and devoted followers alike. His bed is his home and his office: it contains plastic skulls, incense sticks, religious texts, and portraits of Hindu deities. For those who seek his services, he has his contact number taped to his keypad phone.

Unlike many spiritual healers who have turned their practices into pure businesses, Baba Augarnath insists on the purity of his intentions, accepting only genuine offerings, often in the form of a Gold Flake cigarette or paua (a bottle of local alcohol).

Divine intervention

Baba Augarnath believes in the power of miracles over conventional medicine. He asserts that ailments ranging from seizures to kidney stones can be cured through faith and locally sourced herbs. His faith in divine intervention becomes evident as he recounts success stories. A girl possessed by evil spirits who could bend iron rods with her bare hands and is now leading a normal married life with kids, a man on the verge of dying from an accident who miraculously recovered within a day, a young boy who got lost and was found by his “powers”.

When asked for certificates to validate his claims, Baba Augarnath dismisses the idea stating that such documents can be easily fabricated. Baba often speaks of ancient knowledge and the ability to withstand life’s hardships, which he believes not everyone can achieve. His own journey into healing began over 25 years ago, after the tragic death of his wife due to unhealed surgical wounds after the birth of their son.

Baba Augarnath operates with all his items: plastic skulls, incense sticks, religious texts, and portraits of Hindu deities. | Photo Credit: Ismat Ara

He also mentions that while his spiritual name is Baba Augarnath, his real name is Ramesh Chand Valmiki. He belongs to the Dalit community. By challenging religious hierarchies and the caste system, Baba Augarnath sees himself as a social reformer, where sick and desperate people from all corners of the society show up, including those from the “upper castes,” he says.

Baba Augarnath lives a simple life. And despite this charpoy front, he boasts multiple houses scattered around Aligarh. His dreams are many, he wants to own a large Android phone in the near future, insisting that he will receive it as a “gift” soon. His day-to-day life involves receiving food from visitors, many of whom come to him with problems and leave with solutions. He wears several garlands with rudraksha beads and frequently criticises politicians and casteism. “I find peace in praying for others and using my knowledge of mantras and rituals to heal people, to bring goodness into the world,” he told Frontline, taking a puff from his beedi, his third.

Men of modest lifestyles

Approximately 25 kilometres from Aligarh, in the rural outskirts of Jawan’s Tejpur village, a Muslim spiritual healer, Baba Shaukeen sits in his modest, grey, unpainted house. The structure exudes a mystic atmosphere, filled with the scent of beedis and incense. Baba Shaukeen’s followers, drawn from nearby villages and far-off cities, seek cures for chronic conditions through his practices. Despite being a Muslim by faith, Baba Shaukeen claims to have attained multiple siddhis, or spiritual powers. These are believed to be attained through intense spiritual practice, meditation, or divine blessings.

Baba Shaukeen appears to be a jack of all trades. On a typical day, he can be seen measuring a patient’s height with a red thread, whispering mantras, and providing medicines with specific instructions.

Baba Shaukeen does not believe in science and the locals of the area place complete belief in his methods despite tricks and performances that accompany his practices. | Photo Credit: Ismat Ara

A woman sits opposite him, talking about her problems with conceiving a child. Handing her a few bottles of pills, he returned the Rs.50 note she placed at his feet, instructing her to use it for sadqa (charity). He then proudly proclaims, “Jab dawa kaam karna band kar deti hai, toh dua kaam karti hai” (When medicine stops working, prayers start to work).

Accompanied by Mahtab Alam, a prominent youth from Tejpur village, this correspondent learned about the local support for Baba Shaukeen’s practices, despite the tricks and performances that sometimes accompany his healing sessions. Mahtab told Frontline, “Many villagers perpetuate Baba Shaukeen’s tricks for a small fee. In our village alone, there are more than 10 such babas. Baba Shaukeen is believed to be the best.” Mahtab himself participated in a matki (earthen pot) trick, earning Rs.2,000 as Baba’s background stuntman.

According to Shaukeen Baba, this seemingly ordinary pot holds extraordinary power. He claims that by placing an individual’s details inside the matki, he can direct its energies to that person, implying that it has the capacity to bring about significant changes. “Jab matki bhejenge yahan se sidha usi insaan ke paas ja ke rukegi, aur uska kaam tamam kar degi,” (when we send the matki from here, it will go directly to the person and stay there, completing its task.) This murky belief feeds into local lore of the Baba’s “powers.”

Baba Shaukeens clinic is dimly lit by a small window. The walls are filled with posters. The occasional breeze carries the soft chime of colourful bangles tied together with holy threads. Baba keeps detailed records of his visitors, who number over 100 on some days, and his sessions run from early morning until late at night. Baba has a wife, four sons, and a daughter. His sons work in small jobs such as driving, electrical work, and welding, while two are still too young to work. Despite his significant influence, Baba claims that none of the property is in his name; it all belongs to the next generation.

Baba Shaukeen’s reputation as a miracle worker was cemented when he predicted the return of a lost boy within three days, which indeed happened. Since then, he has been believed to possess a “third eye” and miraculous powers. His practices include dealing with jinnat (spirits) and asaraat (evil influences), which he claims to control with the help of his hasti (a spiritual entity). Baba Shaukeen dismisses modern science, asserting that true power comes from Allah and the knowledge passed down through generations.

To heal and not harm

Despite his growing popularity, Baba Shaukeen is not without controversy. He claims that some people come to him with unethical requests, such as eliminating rivals or harming others, which he firmly refuses. He insists on helping only those with genuine needs and emphasises the distinction between halal (permissible) and haram (forbidden) practices.

In the bustling outskirts of Jawan, a cluster of villages near Aligarh, lies the clinic of Aarif, a practitioner who claims to provide Ilaaj e Kamil, or complete healing. The scene outside the clinic is vibrant and chaotic, with rows of bikes parked and a golgappa seller catering to the waiting crowd. Aarif’s clinic is a beacon of hope for many who have exhausted conventional medical options.

Upon entering the clinic, one is immediately struck by its semblance of order and professionalism, a stark contrast to the other makeshift healing centres in the area. The clinic operates from 10 AM to 6 PM, with a nominal consultation fee of Rs.50. Inside, patients are greeted by a receptionist, and the clinic boasts a waiting area and a toilet, amenities rarely found in similar establishments.

Ilaaj e Kamil or Aarif clinic. Irshad Ali, the doctor at the clinic, holds a diploma in Doctor of Medicine in Electro Homeopathy. | Photo Credit: Ismat Ara

A diverse crowd fills the seats: women in hijabs, others with sindoor, and visitors from as far as Haryana. Many of these patients have travelled long distances, staying in Aligarh for days, all hoping for a cure that modern medicine has failed to provide. Clutching prescriptions and huge bundles of medical records, they await their turn to meet Irshad Ali, who holds a diploma in Doctor of Medicine in Electro Homeopathy. Electro homoeopathy in India blends traditional homoeopathic principles with electrical treatments, promising cures for chronic ailments through a combination of herbal remedies and electrical stimulation, despite lacking scientific validation.

Dr. Ali, dressed in an offbeat white kurta and a head cap, moves methodically through his consultations. Despite his unassuming appearance, Aarif insists on his identity as a doctor. His expertise spans a range of chronic diseases, liver problems, and issues related to conception.

Ilaaj e Kamil translates to “complete treatment,” and Aarif stands by this claim. He holds a diploma in this specialised field. Aarif does not shy away from the spiritual aspect of healing either. His clinic’s name itself is a nod to the holistic approach he takes—combining physical treatment with spiritual well-being. “Namaz is the best solution for any problem,” the wall outside his chamber says, emphasising the importance of faith in his healing process.

The clinic’s popularity highlights the desperate need for effective healthcare solutions in rural areas. Local vendors and accommodation providers benefit from the influx of visitors, creating an informal economy around Dr Irshad’s practice. While critics question the legitimacy of his qualifications, patients continue lining up outside his clinic, whether due to his medical expertise or the power of sheer faith.

Raunak, an office boy in Aligarh, currently faces a healthcare dilemma. His wife suffers from uncontrollable episodes of shouting and crying, often misunderstood by neighbours as a victim of domestic violence. Despite consulting several doctors, her condition remains undiagnosed. Initially resistant to considering mental health issues due to societal taboos, Raunak now reluctantly considers mental health treatment for his wife, highlighting the significant resistance many families face in accepting such problems.

Nearby in Hathras, a stampede at a godman’s gathering recently put spiritual healers back in focus. The recent crowd crush at a baba’s ashram in Hathras, Uttar Pradesh, cast a grim spotlight on the dangers of unchecked superstition and mass gatherings.

On June 27, 2024, a stampede occurred during a spiritual event at the ashram, leading to the tragic death of 23 individuals and injuring at least 50 others. The incident unfolded when the crowd, far exceeding the venue’s capacity, surged forward to receive blessings and supposed healing from the baba.

Hamid Dabholkar, a prominent figure in the rationalist and anti-superstition movement in India, explained that superstitions and traditional beliefs still significantly influence health practices and choices in the country. He is the son of the late Narendra Dabholkar, who was a well-known social activist and founder of the Maharashtra Andhashraddha Nirmoolan Samiti, an organisation dedicated to eradicating superstitions.

Narendra Dabholkar, Hamid Dabholkar’s father, was shot and killed due to his relentless efforts in combating superstition and promoting rationalism in India. He challenged deeply entrenched superstitious practices and faced significant opposition from radical groups. His assassination on August 20, 2013, was a tragic result of the enmity his anti-superstition campaign generated.

Power of superstitions

The allure of spiritual healers and the extreme measures people take in seeking cures reflect deeply rooted superstitions that even transcend rural and urban divides.

“This phenomenon is prevalent not only in rural areas with limited access to healthcare but also in metropolitan areas among highly educated, high-income groups with access to quality medical care. In tribal belts and interior regions, where child mortality remains an issue, informal healers or bhagats often serve as the first point of contact for health-related concerns,” he told Frontline. “The lack of proper healthcare infrastructure is also a factor that pushes people towards babas,” he added.

Dabholkar envisions a future where rationalism can coexist with cultural sensitivity. By fostering a scientific temper and encouraging critical thinking, he believes that the younger generation can respect cultural traditions while rejecting exploitative superstitions. His work continues to pave the way for a more rational and scientifically aware society in India.

What does the law say?

In India, several laws govern alternative healing practices that involve superstitions and rituals. The Anti-Black Magic Act, implemented in States such as Maharashtra and Karnataka, aims to curb practices that exploit people’s beliefs in supernatural powers. The Drug and Magic Remedies (Objectionable Advertisements) Act of 1954 prohibits advertisements of remedies that claim to have magical properties for curing ailments.

The Supreme Court of India has called for the creation of a portal to monitor and regulate health-related magical claims, emphasising the need for stringent enforcement to prevent misleading and harmful practices. These legal frameworks seek to protect individuals from exploitative practices while promoting scientific temper and rational thinking in healthcare, but it is hard to trace an informal economy so huge. Implementing these laws is challenging, especially when families are convinced about the efficacy of superstitious treatments.