In a world still reckoning with the aftermath of COVID-19, where health consciousness, structural inequality, and the social determinants of wellbeing dominate public discourse, it has never been increasingly important to understand how scientific belief and social care together intersect to shape human longevity — especially in the face of chronic illness. The life of Kancha Kattaiah — born on July 17, 1948, into a historically excluded shepherding caste in a remote village of southern India, and who died on June 7, 2025, in a small apartment in Hyderabad — offers not only an inspiring story of 77 years of survival, but also a compelling case study in how rational thought, family care, and access to medical science made one of the longest-surviving heart valve replacement cases possible.

Back in the late 1970s, when India’s life expectancy barely crossed the mid-50s, most advanced medical treatments remained confined to the privileged few. Open-heart surgery, particularly valve replacement, was considered miraculous and rare. For poor or rural Indians, chronic heart disease often led to quiet, early death. And yet, in 1979, Kattaiah — just 30 years old and already diagnosed with valvular heart disease — defied that future. He did not merely survive a complex heart surgery. He outlived expectations by decades, building a life that serves as a case study in how science and social support together can radically extend human life.

Born into a marginalised pastoralist community in Telangana, Kattaiah was no stranger to the systemic barriers that shape the lives of lower-caste Indians. His mother, Kancha Kattamma, was a formidable figure — a community leader known as Pedda Golla, who resisted feudal landlords and fought for grazing rights for shepherds. Her struggles sowed the seeds of critical thought and resistance in her children. Kattaiah, a bright student with a fiercely rational mind, carried that legacy into his youth. When local karanams—village tax officials—tried to prevent children from lower castes from accessing education, he confronted them directly: “Why do you send your children to school and stop ours in the name of tradition?”

Kattaiah did not believe in divine intervention. He was unambiguous about what could heal: “God will not save me from this illness. Only doctors, medicine, and proper food can cure sickness.” That belief would be put to the test when, at age 30, he was diagnosed with a severe valvular heart disease. The only solution was surgery to replace the damaged heart valve — an advanced procedure rarely available outside a few elite hospitals in India.

At the time, the Edwards heart valve, developed by the American company Edwards Lifesciences, represented a pioneering leap in cardiac care. Made from bovine or porcine tissue, this bioprosthetic valve mimicked the function of a natural human valve, improving blood flow and reducing the need for lifelong anticoagulation therapy. But such innovation came at a steep cost. The surgery at Christian Medical College Hospital in Vellore, Tamil Nadu, would cost Rs. 50,000 — an astronomical sum for any lower-middle-class family, let alone one from a marginalised caste background in late 1970s.

What followed, however, demonstrated the power of social care and institutional support. At the request of his younger brother, Prof. Kancha Ilaiah — with whom Kattaiah had lived his entire life — the Vice-Chancellor of Osmania University recommended a grant of Rs. 8,000, established by Nizam Trust for heart patients. Though it did not cover the full cost, the grant was more than financial aid — it was a signal that institutions, when guided by equity and humanity, can meaningfully extend life.

The surgery was performed at Christian Medical College and Hospital (CMCH) in Vellore, Tamil Nadu, by Dr. Stanley John — one of India’s first cardiothoracic surgeons and a recipient of the Padma Shri in 1975 — with Dr. George Cherian serving as the physician.  Founded in 1900 by Dr. Ida Sophia Scudder, CMCH traces its origins to the work of American medical missionaries from the Dutch Reformed Church, among them Scudder’s own family, who had served in India for generations. Though established on religious principles, CMCH became a place where faith never stood in the way of science. Unlike many religious institutions that have long prioritised ritual over reason, CMCH embraced a more inclusive and scientific ethos. It stood out as a space where belief and medicine coexisted — welcoming patients like Kattaiah, who, though irreligious, believed deeply in the promise of science.

His surgery was successful. He survived. And with that survival came not just extended years, but dignity and purpose — a testament to what happens when medicine meets compassion, and rationality is met with support. Over the following decades, Kattaiah’s life became an emblem of resilience. He had outlived not only a grim diagnosis but the assumptions of a casteist, fatalistic society.

Kattaiah’s extended life, however, was not without struggle. His condition placed restrictions on what medicines he could safely consume, and even minor illnesses became serious. It was his wife, Kancha Bharathi, who became the quiet pillar of his long recovery. She cared for him with patience and strength, attending to his daily needs with the attention one gives to a child. During the COVID-19 pandemic, doctors advised against vaccination due to his heart condition. He complied with strict self-imposed quarantine, practicing social distancing long before such habits became common.

That is where his story still echoes powerfully. It forces us to ask: How many lives remain shortened not because treatment doesn’t exist, but because access is denied? Kattaiah’s decades-long survival stands in stark contrast to the many who never made it to the operating table. It also testifies to the endurance of belief — not in the divine, but in rational hope, grounded in human systems that choose compassion over caste, and equity over exclusion.

Today, as healthcare becomes increasingly commercialised, and as universal health coverage remains a distant goal in many countries, this story offers a quiet yet firm reminder. Life is not simply extended by science — it is sustained by a shared moral duty to apply that science equitably. When access is fair, when care is personal, and when science is driven not by profit but by humanity, even the most fragile hearts can beat long into the future.

Kancha Kattaiah’s story is perhaps one of India’s longest surviving cases of heart valve replacement. But more than a medical record, it is a human record — of what is possible when rational hope, care, and science come together. His life did not defy death by miracle. It did so through medicine, support, and a belief in something far more radical than faith: reason, science, and love.

Ram Shepherd Bheenaveni, Director, Centre for Telangana Studies, Osmania University, Hyderabad. [email protected]