Nanjiyamma - the deserving talent who was lucky enough to be heard.

The Nanjiyamma Test: Valuing Performance Over Pedigree in Medicine

This is an original article written and edited by Dr. Anoop Prathapan and first published on the 26th of July 2022

Dr. Anoop Prathapan

Part 1: The Award, The Principle

I was overwhelmed with joy when folk singer Nanjiyamma won the national award for her stirring rendition of "Kalakkatha" in the film Ayyappanum Koshiyum. Amidst a slate of deserving awardees, this particular honour caught my attention. I anticipated that a decision to award one of music's highest honours to a tribal artist over formally trained singers would stir controversy, and I was right. Musician Mr. Linu Lal opined that Nanjiyamma should have received a special jury mention, reserving the main award for a professionally trained singer.

In response, music director Mr. Rahul Raj posted a brilliant and incisive defense of the jury's decision. He argued that these awards are for the best performance in the context of a specific film in a specific year, not a lifetime achievement award for the most dedicated singer in the country.

In his words:

"It has nothing to do with their classical knowledge, virtuosity, lifelong dedication, discipline, commitment to music... This is the basic technicality for this Award. The song and the artist’s contribution to the film’s narrative should strike a chord with the audience... So, purists please step back. Nanjiyamma deserves it to the core for the kickass ethnic vibes and sheer rawness that she imparted into the narrative."

This is precisely the point. Rahul Raj championed the quality of the end result, irrespective of the artist's formal training or pedigree. This principle—that demonstrated excellence should outweigh paper qualifications—is the ultimate test of fairness in any field.

It begs the question: How would a "Nanjiyamma" fare in our own profession?

Part 2: Applying the Test to the Medical Fraternity

Let us apply this 'Nanjiyamma Test' directly to the environment we know best: the medical fraternity in Kerala. What happens when innate skill confronts a rigid, credential-based hierarchy?

Consider a talented young doctor—perhaps a General Practitioner WITHOUT a postgraduate degree—who demonstrates exceptional clinical acumen and manages a general medicine ward with remarkable efficiency. Their "performance," like Nanjiyamma's song, is flawless and impactful. Yet, when a permanent position or a leadership role in that department becomes available, a familiar and disheartening process unfolds.

An administrative mindset, prizing credentials above all else, often intervenes. The conversation in the decision-making chambers would sound something like this: “The candidate is skilled, yes. But if an undergraduate can perform this well, imagine how much better someone with a postgraduate degree could do.” The discussion is no longer about the proven, excellent outcome, but about a theoretical, 'safer' choice based on qualifications.

Ultimately, our 'Nanjiyamma' is often overlooked. The opportunity is given to a doctor who may be less experienced or less suited for the specific role but possesses the requisite PG degree. The system defaults to the 'qualified singer', not because their performance is better, but because their credentials provide administrative cover. The actual, on-the-ground results are sacrificed for the sake of protocol.

This culture stems from a deep-seated systemic insecurity. A system that truly values excellence would champion its Nanjiyammas, elevating them as examples of innate talent. Instead, we often see a culture of gatekeeping.

Opportunities are suppressed, and a narrative is pushed that only those who have followed a specific, rigid academic path are worthy of advancement. This creates a "dynasty" of the credentialed, where capable juniors are kept in subordinate roles, and leadership is rotated among a select few, stifling innovation and demoralizing talented individuals. What this behaviour demonstrates is a shameful and selective ignorance of true merit.

Conclusion

As Mr. Rahul Raj rightly pointed out, an award-winning performance is not about virtuosity, dedication, or formal training—it is about the final result. The same should be true in medicine. If a doctor is capable of expertly managing a critical patient or a complex department, they ARE capable. That proven ability should be the primary metric of their worth.

I wish the real Nanjiyamma all the best. But I also feel immense gratitude to the late director Sachy, not just for being the reason for her award, but for giving her something far more valuable: an opportunity. He allowed her to be heard. In medicine, as in art, an opportunity at the right time is all the right person needs to succeed. It is time we had more leaders with the courage to provide one.

Dr. Anoop Prathapan

anoop.prathapan@gmail.com

09400643477