That ever had a face or a mother

Avoid eating anything that ever had a face or a mother (Forks over Knives). You may be wondering why I chose this quote to begin today's blog post. As I wrote in an earlier blog, I have recently been flooded with information on alternative therapies and nutrition as not only prevention but cure for cancers of all kind. I have also received information on the quasi uselessness and even futility of chemotherapy and other conventional 'cures' for cancer. In one instance it has been said that chemotherapy is ineffectual in 97% of cancer cases.

My 'association' with cancer happened circa 1958, when my grandmother was diagnosed with liver cancer. All I remember is that my parents then posted in Morocco use to send my Nani medicine to relieve her pain. I was told that she was in terrible pain and that there were no medicines available to her in India. Palliative care was still not known and strong pain killers deemed illegal. It is only in 2014 that that the Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances Act has been finally amended and will enable millions of Indians suffering chronic pain get better access to pain medicines. Amen to that! But in1958 my poor Nani had to suffer her pain helplessly.

Cancer came again into my life in 1989 when mama fell ill and though we were not supposed to mention the C word, we knew she had lung cancer that had metastasised all over her body. She refused treatment and her coping strategies were her betel leaf with tobacco, her moans and howls that use to terrify papa and I, but that she insisted made her feel better and her daily routine replete with pampering as an array of beauticians and hairdressers were summoned by my father to keep his beloved in good spirits. Added to that were lunches at restaurants and evenings at the theatre. All this worked spot on till a month before her death. Her last 30 days were terrible but she lived them on her conditions and died fully aware as she had always wanted to. Life was meant to be lived to the fullest, pain or no pain.

Come 1992 and Papa has colon cancer. Not willing to put me through the dilemma of having to make a decision, he accepts with alacrity the brutal allopathic treatment suggested. The colostomy goes against every grain of this spiritual man and he breathes his last 25 days after his surgery.

Today cancer is again in my life. This time it has chosen another loved one. The shock I got when I heard the news made me falter a little and accept conventional therapy as I was promised miracles. However this time was a tad different as, not many know this, I had started researching alternative therapies after papa's demise as I had been told that I was a probable candidate and thus would have to be 'tested' every year. The idea of anyone prodding inside me was abhorrent so I decided to look for alternatives. This is how I landed at the doorstep of my Tibetan doctor and burst into tears when she suggested an ultrasound. She being a healer and not a butcher, understood me and has never asked for a test in the past ten years. I see her regularly, she takes my pulse, prescribes her pills and I swallow them diligently. I never ask her what is wrong with me. The poof of the pudding is in its eating and I have not been ill. In the meantime, and more so after the arrival of the Internet I have searched for information and modified my diet and life style.

What I came across quite some time ago is the rainbow diet which means eating things that have different colours. I began doing this quite some time ago. Then I stumbled upon an article that stated that one should not eat anything white - salt, milk, white sugar, white flour and white rice. I introduced that in my life as best I could. Od course there were many cheat days as in those times no one had cancer.  Come July 2013 and Ranjan's cancer and my mastering the art of Googling and sharing brought whole new perspective and the more I researched the more I found out how inefficient modern medicine and how a whole range of options has been surreptitiously concealed by the devious agendas of medical and pharmaceutical fraternity making us believe that the brutal trio of cutting, poisoning and burning - surgery, radiation and chemotherapy - was the only available option.

Today I almost regret having subjected Ranjan to 11 lethal chemo sessions. Had I managed to learn all I did in the last 10 months in a day, I would never have done so.

As I mentioned in the opening paragraph of this blog, in the recent days I have been privy to lot of sound and reliable information about alternatives that work. First and foremost the best way to keep cancer at bay, in control and even cure it is to go VEGAN! One needs to earth plants, grains, legumes, eliminate dairy, avoid processed foods etc. This is what Forks over Knives urges us to do. You can watch the movie on  line.

The China Study  backed by the most extensive study of nutrition ever conducted and bolstered by dozens of additional studies and cases — gave us a simple but powerful answer: The key to good health is nutrition. By adopting a diet based on whole, plant-based food you can reduce your risk of degenerative diseases like heart disease, cancer, and diabetes. In this study we are urged to give up dairy. You can find a cheat sheet of this rather complex book. Need I say more.

I also found out about a new book entitled The MD Emperor has no clothes. In this book Dr Peter Glidden reconciles the ancient methods of holistic medicine with the urgent health needs of our modern world, offers a key to the very survival. Watch this and you will be quite shocked.

It is not difficult to become Vegan. I urge you to avoid eating anything that ever had a face or a mother!

I've looked at life from both sides now

The past days and even weeks have been strange in more ways than one. Rest assured they have been filled with quietude and felicity, almost as if life itself decides to give me the breather I so needed. The constant worry about Ranjan's health seems to have taken a break off its own volition. Odd but true, I have not thought about Mr Hodgkin's at all and certainly not about the possibility of him coming back into our lives. Life has resumed a new normal where the only things that are different to them before Hodgkin days is the food on the table and the juices and brews that have become second nature. One does not even think of them as cancer preventive or curative. Actually we both gulp the brews with alacrity.

We do quibble about the weekly peg of Scottish water and the Cuban cigar but I give in most of the times. It almost seems as if we have unwittingly and surreptitiously accepted to live life to its fullest and leave the rest to the man upstairs. I must confess that there are times when I silently question the decision but I keep mum as I watch Ranjan happy and healthy.

Serendipity has always been my friend and once again it was spot on as three bits of news came my way last week. One was a video clip sent by a dear relative. Dr Peter Glidden states with confidence that chemotherapy is a waste of money and does not work in 97% of the cases. The video is worth a watch. He has written a book entitled The MD Emperor has no clothes which I am trying to get a copy off. Serendipity often works at several levels. A dear friend wrote to me about a book entitled the China Story which I have just ordered. It’s the largest comprehensive study of human nutrition ever conducted. It was launched via a partnership between Cornell University, Oxford University, and the Chinese Academy of Preventative Medicine. The groundbreaking results from the study (and other influential nutrition research) recommend the best diet for long-term health. Eat plants for health is the book's mantra. It states that  It’s not just cancer and heart disease that respond to a whole foods, plant-based diet. It may also help protect you from diabetes, obesity, autoimmune diseases, bone, kidney, eye, and brain diseases. Need I say more. Vegan is my mantra now and for dinner today I have made a super salad of quinoa, beans, chia seeds, hemp seeds, peppers and olive oil laced with apple cider vinegar.

Part III is the serendipity saga is yet another book my daughter told me about Forks over Knives that advocates a low-fat whole-food, plant-based diet as a means of combating a number of diseases. Eat your way to health. They even have a cook book that I am dying to get my hands on.

All these serendipitious occurrences have been the sign I was waiting for. We have done what was needed so that there would be no regrets as was the case with mama when she refused all treatment for her cancer. But now we want to live free and happy and with no elephant in the room or damocles sword on one's head. We will become vegan -we almost are- and live each day to its fullest.

I am reminded of Joni Mitchell's song Both sides now:

I've looked at life from both sides now

From up and down and still somehow

It's life's illusions I recall

I really don't know life at all

It is time we began discovering life the right way.

enotikoitoi

Whilst reading A Strange Kind of Paradise by Sam Miller, I came across a description of Ancient India as : a semi-legendary land at the edge of the known world full of riches, marvels and monsters. Very early Greek visitors reported sighting Enotikoitoi (or ear sleepers) whose ears were so big and pendulous that they could curl them around their bodies and use them as sleeping bags. Legendary or not, I was immediately drawn to these ear sleepers. I tried and googled for an image, but it seems this wonderful creature has escaped the imagination of illustrators. I wish I had some artistic talent as I would have loved to draw an enotikoitoi! Actually I could imagine myself as one. Just like the snail or the tortoise that can retreat to its carapace, imagine being able to curl your ears around your body and shut the world whenever you wanted to take a break, and jump off the spinning wheel.

The more I imagine what a enotikoitoi would look like, the more I see myself as one, metaphorically of course. Over the years I have mutated from a fun loving, rather rebellious young girl, who had mastered the art of breaking rules to a sort of happy recluse. Of course it has taken time and many slings and arrows of life to reach this rather beatific and seraphic state of mind but I can say with a certain amount of confidence that I am not only happy but feel somewhat blessed. I am no stylite, or introvert and have in no way given up responsibilities. Far from that.

The past months  have been an ample proof of the contrary as I battled to get Ranjan back on his feet, and am still very much in the fray and will remain so till the battle is won. I however realise that I would not have been able to wage this war had I not become this happy isolate. It is probably this ability to curl my ears and shut the world when needed that enabled me to carry on without breaking.

I have often wondered why I had not felt the need to shed even a lone tear when faced with such a terrible challenge. I realise today that it is who I have become over time. Call it wisdom or foolishness the choice is yours. I simply feel that everything that happens, happens for a reason and carries within itself the way out, if you are willing to seek it.

When life overwhelms me, and believe me it does, then it is time to enfold the allegorical ears and shut yourself for the time it takes to spring back to life.

I am often asked why I do not wish to travel. The answer is simple: who needs to travel when you can simply tuck yourself in your ears like a true enotikoitoi!

I am over the moon

I am over the moon! Ecstatic, euphoric, thrilled, overjoyed, elated, delighted, on cloud nine! Tomorrow Ranjan is back on the greens and will play 18 holes with his four ball after over a year. It may not seem a big deal to some, but for me it is nothing short of a miracle and an answer to my prayers. When he told me the news I was taken aback and I must admit a little scared. Stupid questions crowded my mind: will he be OK? Should he play 18 holes? Will it to be too much? What about his medicines and brews?Infections? Viruses? It went on and on till I gave myself the hardest virtual kick where it hurt most. Hey woman, what are you thinking, is this not what you wanted most?

And yes indeed it was. Ranjan back to his home away from home, to his four ball, where he should be! Wow what an incredible happening. This is what I had been hoping every minute of every day since the terrible day when he just could not play anymore as he had no energy left. The terrible day when he told me he was falling apart. How far we have travelled in these past months.

Tomorrow, March 16th 2014 is a day to celebrate and celebrate it I will!

Colorado or Calcutta - the world according to my grandson

Note to the reader: this picture has not been flipped. The subject posed this way

My grandson Agastya is quite a character. And it is not the old granny rambling. He has a unique world view and a very singular ways of expressing things. He loves you the whole world and the United States and is now off to Calcutta! Stop. I think all this needs a instruction booklet. His grandpa went to Calcutta twice last month and he is off to Colorado today. However he says his going to Calcutta just like grandpa. Reading between the lines you may think the following:

1. He has confused the two that somehow sound alike
2. He wants to go where grandpa went
3. He has a sixth sense a new that grandpa was off to Calcutta again.

Yes that is the case. A few hours after after this conversation courtesy Skype, Ranjan got a call asking him to come to Calcutta! And he is off on Tuesday while Mr Agastya will be in Colorado skiing.

Now this is the world according to Agastya where Delhi is India and the world does not contain the United States and where Calcutta and Colorado are one!

God bless him for making the sun shine on the darkest day!

Soulful evening

Ranjan got some CDs of his favourite Pakistani singer Pathanay Khan last week. The songs are soulful and stirring. I must confess that they are not my cup of tea, but watching Ranjan enjoy them is pure joy!  After a long long  time I saw my man lost in his own world and in total bliss. How far we have come from those terrible days when it was a battle royal to get him to come and sit in the drawing room with us.

The last few days have set the tone of our new normal. Surprisingly it has been quite encouraging and somewhat unexpected. A set of circumstances, some happy and some not so, compelled my man to step out of the house and even attend functions with large crowds, travel to and fro to Calcutta not two but 4 times and give up his strict regimen for far longer than I would have wanted. He came out a winner, even after a whole day traipsing crowded markets without any sustenance!

He looks as good as new, and I have to pinch myself have to remember the cancer cells that still roam his body. The next blood test is weeks away and will tell us the true picture.

Last week an uncle dropped by and shared what had happened to him some time back. He had been 'diagnosed' with a liver cancer by top hospitals in India and was declared serious. He called a pal in paris who asked him to come over and meet a specialist he knew. The said specialist saw all his papers and asked him 2 questions: are you losing weight and do you have temperature. When my uncle said he did not, the doctor told him to forget the whole matter and go and have a feast at the best restaurant in Paris. He also added that, had he been operated upon as the doctors in India had advised, it could have been fatal. My uncle has had other ailments since but no liver cancer.

In hindsight I guess that Ranjan's weight loss and fever were the red flags we did not see. But there is nothing we can do now so why cry on spilled milk. However we must remember this and keep watch on fever and weight loss. And of course keep up all the magic potions that keep cancer cells in control.

Losing the soles of one's shoes

I received an email from a very old and dear friend, who is also the daughter of my father's best friend. She had written to condole the loss of Ranjan's parents and reminisced about the time she lost her father 15 years ago. Losing a parent she said is like "perdre les semelles de ses chaussures…" that can be translated at best as losing the sole of one's shoes. Some may think it a bit strange to compare a parent to the sole of shoe, but if you give it some thought, I guess she is spot on.

I actually lost both my parents on November 29th 1992, the day my father died as though Kamala, my mother had died more than a year earlier, Ram, my father never let me feel her loss and walked into her shoes surreptitiously and I must confess flawlessly. I actually became an orphan the day he died and my first reaction was that I would never bang a door again as there is no one who will knock at it and heal my hurt. Banging doors was my silly way of proclaiming woes and my father more than my mother was the one who came knocking, often with a yummy treat as that was his way of saying he was sorry. My mother, the more rational and commonsensical of the two, one day bought a donkey load of earthen pots - yes they were sold on donkeys in days of yore - and told me that I could break them rather than bang the doors of our newly built house. But her ruse did not work for long and I was back at banging doors till November 1992. I have never banged a door since. When you become an orphan, you also grow up, no matter your age.

Losing the soles of your shoes is also a poignant image to describe the loss of your parents. Come to think of it, is they who teach you how to walk, holding your hand at first and then slowly teaching you all the pitfalls, concrete and emotional that come into your life thus toughening the soles you walk on. And even when they seemingly let you go they remain in the wings to break every fall and arm you with the wisdom to avoid them in the future. And this game goes on as long as they live.

When they finally leave and you put your foot on the ground to walk, you strangely see your steps faltering and realise that you have to walk on without your safety net on slippery new soles that will need to be toughened again, and the catch is that you will have to do it all by yourself.

People who have just lost their parents ask how long it will take to get over the pain or as some say: to stop missing them! My answer is never! The only thing that happens is that you learn to miss them and to  learn to live without their physical presence. You evolve your coping strategies. Look at pictures and relive tender memories. Sieve through reminiscences and hold on to the ones that you love most. Do something in their memory. Remember then on birthdays and anniversaries. Give form to your feelings in words or on canvas. Call them in the dead of night or the crack of dawn seeking answers in times of trouble and lo an behold you get the answer you seek as I have so often.

Some may not believe that parents remain with us even after they go and are there to make sure those soles are not worn out. A few years back when I was going through a terrible patch in my life, a diary appeared from nowhere, written by Kamala a few months before she died. Reading it was uncanny as she had seen my life path beyond her death and had all the answers I needed on offer.

When you parents are gone, no matter what your relationship has been because of circumstances, you have to master the art of reading between the lines of life, of hearing the words that were never said, of holding on to the gentle and caring memories and let everything else go.

Sanskaras - lost in translation

Sanskaras  is one of the most difficult word to translate correctly. On wikipedia it is said to be the imprints left on the subconscious mind by experience in this or previous lives, which then color all of life, one's nature, responses, states of mind. This is how I chose to define it in Dear Popples: The closest would be values, but samskara is more than mere values. It is something we hold sacred in our traditions, almost an atavistic genetic imprint, and yet in today’s day and age, it seems to skip many and find root in some. To me samskaras are what make you intuitively do the right thing at the right moment and is visible in simple gestures. (dear Popples, page 184)

The reason why I feel the need of talking of Sanskaras today is that never before I have felt the importance of these inbred values that you often accept automatically without questioning them however cartesian you may be. That is because more often than not they do not clash with your reality. They are simply the way you function. But there are times, when they clash in a way that shake your very core. For many years my sanskaras compelled me unequivocally to stand with my child whose only support I could be, even if that entailed alienating the whole world. I did and bore in Hamlet's words: The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. I had no choice. But today my sanskaras take on an new meaning as I need to include those of a partner with whom I shared wows forty years ago where I pledged to participate with my husband in all his noble and divine acts. This pledge is not to be taken lightly. Any religious ritual will not be complete without me by his side in heart and soul.

In a few days we will be doing all the rituals enabling his parent's soul to fulfil their onward journey in the best way possible. I will ensure that I accompany my husband in this solemn ceremony with my heart and soul, just as I did for my own parents over two decades ago. This is what my sanskaras tell me to do.

Ranjan the new shopper on the block

Believe it or not Ranjan, the man who never shops spent a WHOLE day shopping with his friends from Pakistan. When I say the whole day, I mean the whole day! And as the day went on and I called with obsessive regularity to ask if he had: drunk water, eaten something etc, the answer was no as the shopping was still on.

The spree began with me meeting the trio at GK market to introduce them to my opticians as the first item on the list was shades for the son. The model they wanted was not available. Then one of the friends told me he needed a rubber for a pressure cooker so off we went to my general store and got what was needed. By that time I had had my fill as I knew these would be a long and protracted shopping as they had to buy clothes and much more. The programme was still to finish all the purchasing and have a lazy lunch at the Gymkhana club. I sent them to Lajpat Nagar hoping they would find all they needed. It must have been 11.30 am. I was tickled pink at the idea of Ranjan is Lajpat Nagar, a market he had NEVER set foot in.

I began my calls. At 1pm they were still at LN looking for lahangas and suit pieces. Idem at 2 am. Lunch was nowhere in sight. Then courtesy another call I discovered they were in Connaught Place as one of the guests said he had to go there! More shopping for pants and the elusive eye glasses. No lunch, water or anything else. I was livid but at the same time amused. At 5 or so I was told Ranjan had eaten some papri chaat - street food!! - and my heart missed a beat. I almost screamed at him and told him that he could have looked for bananas instead but too late. I started praying as never before for the chaat to be digested without any consequences that we may regret. At 7pm I was told that they were heading back to GK market to finally purchase the sun shades from my shop! The shopping stalwarts returned home at 8pm. I must confess my welcome was not tender.

Ranjan has not eaten or drunk any water for over 10 hours. Gone was the regimen that makes him swallow something or the other every time the clock strikes the hour. But it was not over. I had to give in to the Saturday shot of Scottish water and cigar.

Though I was angry to say the least as I would have packed his medicines, some water and some sustenance had I known how long it would take, seeing Ranjan happy and above all seeing that he could survive such a day was in many ways proof that he is better was balm to my heart. Though I do not advise too many such days, these experience is ample proof that he can resume his golf days and more, with temperance of course.

I have also found a new shopping partner... and that is precious!