A friend, relative, and an Unparalleled Physician >>>>> Dr Aitharaju Venu Manohar Rao Reaches the Blissful Abode : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao (Houston Airport)

 A friend, relative, and an Unparalleled Physician

Dr Aitharaju Venu Manohar Rao 

Reaches the Blissful Abode

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao (Houston Airport)

CHILDREN'S DOCTOR WITH A CHILD HEART:{{Dr. Aitharaju Venu Manohar Rao (also known as Dr. A.V. Manohar Rao) was a respected pediatrician based in Hyderabad, India. Born on 21 June 1947, he earned his MBBS from Kakatiya Medical College (KMC) in Warangal. In the late 1960s and early 1970s he served as a house surgeon at KMC attached to MGM Hospital, where senior faculty—including surgeons and obstetrician-gynecologists—held him in high regard and frequently collaborated with him on complex family cases.He later pursued higher studies and professional opportunities in the United Kingdom before returning to India. In 1975 he settled in Hyderabad and joined government service as a pediatrician, remaining in public employment until his voluntary retirement in 2002. 

After leaving government service he established a private clinic on the ground floor of Arihant Apartments in Ashok Nagar. There he built a strong reputation as one of the city’s most trusted pediatric practitioners, valued for reliability, accessibility, and genuine patient care rather than commercial success.Although trained in pediatrics, colleagues and families routinely sought his counsel on a wide range of medical issues, from routine childhood illnesses to more complex adult and family health concerns. He actively supported public-health initiatives, including pulse-polio immunization campaigns. 

Even after formal retirement he continued clinical work and informal consultations for many years, remaining available to patients and relatives until shortly before his death on 7 September 2026. Throughout a career spanning government service and private practice, Dr. Manohar Rao was remembered for his clinical skill, broad medical guidance, and personal compassion}} - Editor Metro India Synoptic Intro to this article

Exactly 41 days after my arrival in Houston, Texas, with my wife and daughter for a holiday, the saddest news of our lives reached us. We were preparing for our return journey when we learned that my beloved brother-in-law, lifelong friend, and guide, Dr Aitharaju Venu Manohar Rao, had breathed his last and reached the blissful abode of Lord Vishnu. Perhaps it was coincidence, or simply fate, that when we met Manohar just two days before our departure, he casually asked, ‘Why now to USA?’ Within moments, however, he wished us a happy journey and safe travel. Little did I know that those would be our final words together.

Until barely three weeks before his passing, he continued to extend medical advice to us, even for minor ailments, particularly to his beloved sister, Bujji. Suddenly, the familiar voice that had guided and reassured us for decades fell silent. On September 7, 2026, it became as though he had simply said, ‘Please, No More. I have a call from the Almighty.’ And Manohar was no more. We both, and daughter Bunti (Prema) immediately confirmed our return journey to Hyderabad for one last glimpse of his departed soul. Kinnera and Aditya (My daughter and son residing in Houston) too were almost in tears along with us.

Our relationship began in the late 1950s, when we were both about ten years old. I joined Rikab-Bazar High School in Mamillagudem, Khammam, and that was when Manohar and I became friends. That friendship endured for nearly seven decades and deepened immeasurably when I married his sister, Bujji (Vijayalaxmi), in April 1969. I still vividly remember our wedding. Manohar, guided by his father, virtually steered the arrangements from the bride’s side. His eldest brother was away in the UK, and Manohar, though still very young, had already assumed the role of the ‘Young Head of the Family.’ His expressions, involvement, and responsibility at every stage remain fresh in my memory.

After completing my graduation in September 1968 and marrying in April 1969, I spent about three years in my village. My desire to pursue higher studies was rekindled, influenced by several relatives on my in-laws’ side who were pursuing advanced education, and especially by Manohar. At his suggestion, I decided to seek admission to Nagpur University. During my first visit to Nagpur, Manohar, then studying MBBS at KMC, Warangal, accompanied me. His encouragement eventually helped me secure a seat there.

While I was a student in Nagpur, I received a letter from him that remains one of the most significant letters of my life. It concerned Bujji’s health and revealed a maturity and sense of responsibility far beyond his years. In December 1968, Bujji developed fatigue followed by severe pain on the left side of her abdomen. An X-ray and clinical examination suggested a kidney stone requiring immediate treatment. Further investigations, all carefully pursued under Manohar’s guidance even though he was still a medical student, indicated that her left kidney was not functioning properly.

Manohar took her to Warangal to consult the eminent surgeon, Dr KR Prasad Rao. Considering her very young age, only 15, the doctor advised removal of the ureteric stone first and recommended waiting before deciding whether the non-functioning kidney itself needed removal. Accordingly, major surgery to remove the stone was performed on March 15, 1968. But for Manohar’s intervention, this might never have happened. Eight months after our marriage, an examination at MGM Hospital, Warangal, confirmed that the kidney remained non-functional.

My wife with her brother Dr Manohar Rao

Leaving it untreated could endanger the other kidney, and nephrectomy was therefore considered necessary. The difficult question was how to inform me, because by then I was not even aware of the earlier surgery. That was when Manohar wrote me a deeply moving letter—convincing, confident, yet respectful of my right to decide. With complete faith in him, I said ‘YES.’ What impressed me most was not merely his medical judgment, but the responsibility with which he exercised it. Although barely 22 years old, he did not impose his decision on me.

He offered another consultation if I wished and assured me that he and his brother would take Bujji anywhere in the world for treatment, regardless of cost. Before the final decision, he arranged another IVP test, confirmed the need for surgery, and gently explained the situation to my parents. On January 10, 1970, Dr Prasad Rao performed the nephrectomy at MGM Hospital. The surgery was successful. More than 56 years later, by God’s grace, all is well. I have often felt that Manohar was nothing less than God in human form in that chapter of our lives. His concern for his sister continued virtually until the day before his last breath.

When Bujji became pregnant for the first time, Manohar, then working as a house surgeon at KMC attached to MGM Hospital, arranged her consultation with Dr T Padma, Professor of Obstetrics and Gynecology. He was so highly regarded by his professors that Dr Padma generously provided accommodation for Bujji and her mother in her own home. Together with Dr Prasad Rao’s advice, every aspect of her care was attentively handled.

Our daughter, Bunti (Prema), was born on July 8, 1971. Her bond with her uncle remained so deep that she was literally rendered speechless on hearing of his untimely demise. Before she and Bujji returned from Warangal, the ever-courteous Manohar invited about 25 prominent friends and relatives, including Dr Prasad Rao and his family, Dr Padma and her family, and several medical colleagues, and hosted a dinner at his home.

Manohar was also the bridge through which some of my enduring friendships began. He introduced me to BVSS Sharma, son-in-law of Customs and Central Excise Officer Anjaneyulu. My acquaintance with BK Rao also came through him. Both had known Manohar since their Warangal days in the early 1970s. After going to the UK for higher studies and employment, Manohar returned to Hyderabad in 1975, a year after I joined BHEL Higher Secondary School as Librarian.

For a few days, before he could rent a small house in nearby Chickadpally, his family stayed with us. Those days remain precious memories of our growing families and enduring friendship. Later, when my family lived in Ashok Nagar, our son Aditya faced a serious health problem with infantile eczema (atopic dermatitis), affecting his entire body and causing him considerable discomfort. Manohar was once again our pillar of support. He accompanied my wife to dermatologists and remained closely involved in his care.

On another occasion, Aditya developed severe diarrhea. When the medicine initially prescribed did not help, Manohar advised us to move first to Chary Nursing Home and later to Niloufer Children’s Hospital, where his friend Dr Suresh was working. Once again, everything turned out well, and, as always, Manohar was with us throughout.

After opening his clinic in Ashok Nagar, Manohar soon became one of Hyderabad’s leading pediatric practitioners, not in terms of wealth, but in terms of trust, service, and affection. Though a pediatrician by profession, his knowledge and willingness to help extended far beyond pediatrics. From a simple cold or cough to cardiac problems, cancer, urinary infections, and countless other concerns, people turned to him because they trusted him. His medical practice was never merely a profession. It was an expression of his concern for people.

There was another quality of Manohar that I have always admired. On his return from the UK, he once told me that in Britain one should invariably begin a conversation with ‘Please’ and end it with ‘Thank you.’ He adopted those words so completely that they became part of his personality. In doing so, without preaching, he taught all of us the quiet power of courtesy and respect. Manohar leaves behind far more than memories.

He leaves behind an example, of how to shoulder family responsibility at a young age, how to serve without expecting recognition, how to combine professional excellence with human compassion, how to remain available to those in need, and how to make courtesy a way of life. For me, he was simultaneously a childhood friend, beloved brother-in-law, trusted adviser, family physician, and one of the finest human beings I have known. Our association began when we were children and continued almost until his final breath.

The pain of losing him is immeasurable. Yet gratitude is stronger than grief when I look back at the extraordinary life he shared with all of us. Manohar, my dear friend and brother-in-law, you served your family, your patients, your friends, and humanity with distinction. Your physical presence may have ended, but your kindness, wisdom, affection, and example will remain with us forever. May your soul rest in eternal peace at the blissful abode of Lord Vishnu.