Meditations on Life - IV

Meditations on Life - IV (Grace)

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” - Soren Kierkegaard

My high school days and the buffer one year course (pre-university) in the college were mostly smooth sailing and uneventful. I was too busy with the studies to be distracted by any extraneous disturbances like cricket or movies. Our loving father looked after all my health, fees, and textbooks; a handsome scholarship helped me through the entire higher education (graduate studies). When I shifted to the coastal city for my bachelor degree I ran into two serious health issues. We were in a hostel with other engineering, polytechnic, and trade (welding, etc.) students. For some reason, father wanted me to be utterly self-sufficient during the formative years. He had his reasons and I came to appreciate his wisdom much later. The hostel food was not great, but enough to keep the students slim, trim, alert, and hungry. I do not know what caused the disturbances in my health. Was it severe malnutrition or some serious deficiency of vitamin D? Within a few months into the first year, I developed serious skin rashes and it later morphed into a severe case of psoriasis. Then, I had no idea about the skin problem – obviously it is an erratic (excited) case of rapid top layer growth and subsequent shedding of scales (dead skin). Though my native place was only about seventy miles away, I could not take a break from my college studies and visit the family. There were the laboratory classes (practicals) and the mandatory NCC (National Cadet Corps) drills. Any interruption of group (science) classes would only create further problems. 

I still remember vividly all the troubles I went through with this physical scourge.  You name it - I did not leave any stone unturned for a suitable cure. I used to stand in the morning sun, soaking up all the rays into the oily melanin. Must have made umpteen trips to the local teaching hospital, to its dermatology department. Sometimes the house surgeon (Intern) prescribed zinc oxide cream and Avil (an antihistamine) tablets. My sister’s physician gave me shots of oil penicillin – it only led to a subcutaneous infection. The local Ayurvedic doctor suggested a blood purifier jam but I could not afford the cost (~Rs.10). Our roommate (commerce student) gave the reference of a Homeopathic doctor. I got the first one week’s dose of pills for free. Again he wanted only ten Rupees for the treatment. Immediately after swallowing a few doses, my skin started healing and the natural tone and glow returned. All the rashes disappeared miraculously. It was a great relief because I could go out without shame, embarrassment, and enjoy social company without timidity. The skin problems put enormous strain on the laundry chores. For additional sanitization I had to utilize hot water and bleach for the clothes washing. Back then there were no washing machines, no geysers, and as ordinary students we used to hand wash most of the time. Dry cleaning was not affordable and anyway it would not have made economic sense – that would be like dry cleaning a one-dollar silk tie now!

Since I could not come up with the finances (what? the measly $ 1.50 back then), I did not keep up with the Homeopathist’s follow up appointment. [To this day, I do not understand how Homeopathy works. This from a person who knows intimately the meaning of Avogadro’s number!] And sure enough, the rashes and all the associated pain returned with vengeance. Obviously it is a serious autoimmune disease and needs proper care, management, and cure. But nothing seemed to work and there was no elderly supervision. My sister tried to help but she was busy with her own family and two little children. Though I had a good grounding in bhakti (due to mother), without a guru I was unmoored, like a boat without rudder. I remember visiting the local temple several times praying silently – though coupled a bit with skepticism and rationality. Then suddenly one day another hostel mate made a suggestion: “Why don’t you come to our village this Sunday? Our Ayurvedic doctor dispenses free medicine to the first hundred-fifty patients.” Immediately I borrowed a bicycle and went to Sarpavaram in search of the doctor, my savior. When I went there, already there were about sixty people ahead of me. I was anxious, thinking about my chances. Finally the doctor asked only one question: “What is troubling you?” As he glanced at my face, neck, and hands, he understood the ailment. Quickly he made little packets with brown medicinal powder and handed me the doses for a ten-day course, instructing me thus: “Take it twice a day with warm (boiled) water.” That was all the diagnosis, treatment, and cure. Absolutely free medicine dispensation with no consultation fee. 

With spirits high I peddled swiftly to our hostel through the highway covered with tamarind and cashew trees. Now in a hostel that caters to seventy, eighty students and their two meals a day, who has the time for a glass of warm water for one individual? (Of course, it was different at the Institute. There, our kind mess server would bring to the room a glass of hot milk and toast for the sick inmates.) I had to beg the cook and boil a glass of water on the wooden stove – as a side periphery experiment. But I wanted to obey the doctor’s strict guidelines and follow them to the letter. And then the miracle did happen; within a week the psoriasis disappeared totally. There was no trace left on my body and it never relapsed. To this day my gratitude to my roommates, the village doctor (and even the kind Homeopath) knows no bounds. Whenever I look at abundant water in Varanasi, Godavari, or at the great Niagara Falls, whenever I imbibe the beauty of coastal Andhra with its bountiful crops and coconut plantations – often my mind wonders thus: “All this enormous wealthy nature, the crops, technological advances, and abundant water filled rivers – all this must be due to the goodness of many gentle people, it must be due to their generous sacrifices.”

In the second year (sophomore) in college, I again ran into another predicament; it too sapped my energies and joyful spirits. To this day I cannot determine the origin or the real cause. Was it just due to the high humidity or poorly ventilated hostel dorms? I developed a serious itch with rash, suddenly out of nowhere. Very rarely I used to see movies in theaters, at the most two or three in the entire year. But somebody gave it to me, the itch or the mite. Again lots of trips to the OPD and applying smelly (aromatic) lotions. Luckily my roommates were very understanding; nobody would trouble me, as I was very reserved and focused on my studies. I used to shudder the weekly NCC drills. The sailor white uniform only exasperated my delicate situation; every small skin imperfection was a big billboard advertising my rash or blister. The exposed bare lower legs and open arms during Navy exercises only accentuated my troubles. Certainly a resident physician at the college could have helped me, but there was no clinic. Out of nowhere suddenly the cure came to me when I went home on a long weekend. Before I could broach the subject with father, he noticed my disfigured hands. Within twenty-four hours, father approached an elderly gentleman with the issue. The gentleman (Mr. P. S.) had a Khadi store in the front and on the side he free lanced in herbal medicine. 

So, again the following morning I went to Jinnuru for my medicine, taking a leisurely ride along the canal road. I had go through the dense farms and coconut orchards to reach my benefactor’s (doctor’s) residence. He handed me a 4 oz. small bottle with cream-colored powder, with the instruction: “Apply the powder with castor oil and stand in sunlight. Entire body should be covered except eyes.” Thus I got relief from the pesty mite problem – thanks to a generous neighborhood doctor. Now I also fondly remember my father’s resourcefulness. Tyagaraja says in one of his compositions thus: “Rama, you are my great father. కన్న తల్లియు, ఘన తండ్రియు” Good affectionate fathers are rare, but there are such great fathers in this world. Again, in this instance also I received the medicine free of charge. There is much to learn in science, medicine, and life. Copyright 2021 by the author