One of my friends suggested that I write about Ayurvedic treatments that I'm undergoing because a) ayurveda is a unique form of medicine that people don't know much about b) others will see that ayurveda actually works, c) it's interesting, and most importantly, d) it'll shut me up!
It all began two years ago. On the day of Lodhi, the first time that we were celebrating it in college. A bonfire was lit, peanuts were thrown into the fire and there was much dancing and rejoicing. Too much maybe. Perhaps it was a primal attraction to fire or perhaps just too much alcohol, but I decided that I've gotta take someone up on my shoulders. The only volunteer for this activity was a friend of mine, a tiny thing weighing all of 55 kilograms. So up she goes on my shoulder, me holding her legs tight and she clutching on to my hair with all she's got. After initial hiccups though, we managed to do a little gig and dance around a fair bit, to the bewilderment and frenzy of others. Of course, unbeknownst to me, all this while there were little things going click in my back. Four months later, after cycling with a punctured tyre for half a kilometer, I knew the most agonizing pain that I've ever known. My left leg alternated between going completely numb, shooting electric shocks through my body or just throbbing with unbearable pain. An MRI revealed a disc bulge, which was "treated" with painkillers, nerve-strengthening pills and directions to exercise. A year later, having lived through constant attacks of pain, my dad decided to go traditional on me. And thus began 8 of the most uncomfortable days of my life.
All I was told was to appear in the procedure room on empty stomach, with a packet of milk (other medicines with unpronounceable names had already been handed over). Weight checked, BP measured, I was taken into the room to change into my gown. For the first half hour, all I had to do was lie on my front, while they poured hot hot oil on my back where the pain was in a dam like thingummy to ensure that the oil stayed focused on the spot. This procedure, called Katibasti is quite wonderful and I promptly fell asleep. I was just thinking that maybe my dad had the right idea after all when I was abruptly woken up and told that it was time for my basti. Not knowing then what basti was, and being blissfully ignorant as well drawing on the similarity of names, I figured it was another procedure involving oil. Well, it did involve oil alright. But not the way that I imagined it would. I was told to lie on my side while they gave me an enema. Now, I don't know if any of you have gotten an enema before, but trust me when I say that comfortable is not what it is. They put a tube into my ass and poured god-knows-what in, but I know there was milk, and for a long time after, I couldn't drink a drop of milk. They said I should hold my 'urges' for 4 minutes. At the end of 30 seconds, I told them that if they didn't let go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW there'd be some serious cleaning up to do. That Wednesday morning, I took the longest dump I ever have. As wave after wave of pain hit my stomach, I felt my organs would dissolve and pass through. I sat in the loo for half an hour that day clutching at my tummy and cussing.
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