That's the good news. The bad news is, in Gajrawadi -- and most other slums in Vadodara -- the doctors are not qualified physicians, they are quacks indulging in every imaginable inhuman and unethical practice. Their sheets of paper passing off as prescriptions could well be licenses to kill.

Thanks to lethargy prevailing among government and non-government agencies, more than 100 quacks practice with impunity in over a dozen shanty towns of Vadodara. They are not Ayurveds and homoeopaths practising allopathy, which is also arguably illegal, they are self-styled businessmen who could either be former compounders or staffers of private and government hospitals, or even staff working in chemist's shops.

It's not just a case of innocent moonlighting. There is a definite element of danger, because these `physicians' dole out, day after day, antibiotics, simple pain-killers and antacids, to gullible slum-dwellers. Or, with greater potential for damage, they dress wounds and give injections. The statistics are almost impossible to get; after all, how many deaths in the slums are even recorded, let alone their cause investigated?

The only saving grace appears to be that some quacks hand you over to bonafide physicians the moment they realise things are slipping out of control. Then again, some don't.

The modus operandi is simple enough, and works thanks to a tacit understanding between quacks, officials, some qualified doctors and chemists' shops. The quacks omit writing the case history on paper (see specimen in box) and scribble down the name of a tablet or two by way of a prescription. Some quacks have letterheads which read only A, B or C Clinic or just ``Dawakhanu''. Many do it on plain paper, conveniently glossing over their degrees, if any. Some have their names, some don't; few, if any, have registration numbers printed on them.

Corrupt practices are not the only reason for their flourishing. The main reason, of course, is the age-old story of supply and demand. Where there is a demand for medical care, supply must be maintained, even at the cost of quality. Quacks are necessarily cheap, making their money through sheer number of cases seen.

That's why Govid Mali was seen at a quack's `clinic' recently. ``Hu janu chhu aa mota doctor nathi, pan ahiyan phause. Tyan vaar thaye ane vaghare kharch thaye chhe'' (I know he is not that type of big doctor, but I cannot afford to spend more time and money elsewhere), he says, nursing a running temperature. He leaves the clinic a reasonably happy man, armed with a prescription for antibiotics.

There is, however, a certain degree of familiarity with medicine among these quacks. One such `doctor' near Gajrawadi told this reporter that he was `knowledgeable enough' and possessed all the required information to `serve the infirm at a cost of Rs 3 or 5 or 10'. His clinic, however, gives him away; surrounded by filth and slush, it is the antithesis of all that is hygienic.

It's not as if nobody's concerned. In fact, it seems as if everyone who should be, is. But concern rarely translates into action.

Secretary of the Vadodara Chemists and Druggists Association Bhupendra Shah admits the unlawful sale of medicine, despite the law against it. ``We discourage this, as we know the scientific ill-effects of medicines, yet it goes on'', he says. Mayank Bhatt, President of the Indian Medical Association's Vadodara branch, also voices concern but admits he is yet to chalk out an action plan to check the practice. An attempt in 1997 was foiled, he says because of the `mightier influence of quacks' and vested interests of several senior doctors. As many as 50 doctors had planned a demonstration in front of collectorate last year, but only three actually turned up.

A harsher stand is taken by V C Patel president-elect of the IMA and a Vadodara physician. He admits to an absence of will within the IMA, and says the practice exists all over the country. ``A doctor referring a patient to another doctor receives a commission by latter. Both are linked'', he says, promising efforts to frame anti-quackery legislation as it exists in Delhi in Gujarat.

Other local members of the IMA leaders say that though they often request doctors to get together and take action on this issue, few even attend meetings, leave alone support long-term drives.

Police Commissioner Kuldip Sharma and Vadodara range special inspector general of police D D Tuteja admit there has been no drive worth the name to check this practice.

Last year, two quacks were held and released by court after a fine of about Rs 200; however, no follow-up action was taken.

And as the buck-passing continues, and as the money keeps changing hands, someone, somewhere should say a prayer for those who have to compromise even on that most basic need: Medical care.