Prevention is not the best Cure.

BHU, Varanasi

The head of one of the departments is engaged in a deep debate with me about the value of Ayurveda. He decidedly states that Ayurveda is only preventative, but cannot intervene on diseases: that is why modern medicine has succeeded and is superior.

It is a well-paved argument, one I was taught at Columbia and Harvard: the power of modern medicine is in its speed and scientific precision.  He cites the advent of antibiotics as the cure-all since WWII.  His colleague is seated with us, did a fellowship in New York, and willfully agrees.  

They discuss fever and diabetes. “You will have to admit that paracetamol (aka acetaminophen/Tylenol) works much faster than anything we have in Ayurveda. When you cannot wait for the fever to come down, you have to get it down. If my son has an exam tomorrow and he develops fever in the night, I can’t risk him taking Ayurveda which will take 2 days to take effect. Paracetamol will have his fever down in 2 hours, and then he can take his exam. This is the way of modern life.”

Indeed. Modern life.  The long term effects of paracetamol are not cited, but the short-term action is celebrated.  I ponder, as I cannot deny his truth. 

“And there are no drugs in Ayurveda to lower blood sugar. Modern medicine uses insulin very effectively to lower blood sugar, quickly and effectively.”  My mind echoes the same thought: what is happening to the body while we are precipitously countering its actions and reactions, pretending to understand its ecosystem by analyzing a few molecules and proposing a mechanism? 

I pause, waiting for my turn for rebuttal. The rules of academics in India require that we listen and never debate with persons much senior than ourselves.  The Fulbright faculty status has exempted me for these months: I am allowed, expected to engage in debate, in the activity of “faculty interactive discussions.”

As I begin to cite some biochemical mechanisms, patient cases, and some Ayurvedic roga nidana (pathophysiology), he rocks suddenly in his chair, calls abruptly for tea, and stops the conversation.  It is an indication, another indication that when someone is ready to hear, only then can he hear.   I politely leave, actively engaged in this example the Universe has provided for debate. I have to get sharper, more deep, more able.  Down the marble steps, I walk across the length of the yellow-painted megalith, pondering.  Are there really no drugs in Ayurveda for fever and for diabetes?

The issue is diagnosis and keen observation and examination. All the clues are there and only need to be perceived accurately. This requires that we have a still mind, acutely clean senses.  There are many modalities in the ecosystem of Ayurveda: herbs, surgery, metal medicines, pranayama, mantra, gemstones, marma, yoga, ahara (diet), lifestyle,….  The most potent, according to the wisemen, is Pathya, or appropriate and clean intake of food.   Diet is not only what you eat. It also includes where the food comes from, how it is cultivated, how it is prepared. The detail required to teach this to each and every patient is what prevents Ayurvedic doctors from doing it, well. 

Vrana-ropana^

Around the corner from the expansive, dilapidated Ayurvedic Hospital is a courtyard made of sand leading like a ghat to three new marble stairs. Inside the wrought-iron accordion gate at the top is an entry hall freshly-painted, covered on one wall with a beautiful mural of Ayurvedic surgery, and as elegant as any Manhattan office building …. except ….. that it is teeming with people in every corner,

A rusted, L-shaped wheel jack handle

One of the professors in our department sends out articles from time to time.
Usually they are on metals, or policies in Ayurveda.  Sometimes they discuss health care.

But today, he sent out a link to a column that gnawed at me very deep inside. It was a blog of a guy discussing his intentions to teach his growing child how to look at women. 

Plays Well With Others

Annual Teachers Day
BHU, Lanka, Varanasi

Since I can remember, my aunts and uncles have been arguing with each other and with my mother, vowing never to speak again with each other, over important issues such as colors of cars, and lending money, and who took who to America. The tiffs have lasted for decades among the siblings, but never with my mother.  They will argue and insult her. She will forgive them. They will come running back, calling her as though nothing had happened and forgetting their shame of bad behaviors. 

My mother is my biggest Teacher. She forgives them for all their petty hang-ups, biases, lies and blasphemic vows, and she embraces them again and again.  

living.... simple

Ganga-ji arrived at our doorstep and entered that day. (This means that the river flooded and moved inward onto the streets, and into the land, and into our homes!)

We saw water rising suddenly on Sunday around 7am. It focused on the forests around the house, and the park. But mainly it filled the street that led directly to the Ganga, as though she had decided to talk a walk and come to our houses.