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The first and only time I wanted to choke an old widow and dance on her corpse occurred at my age 4.
I was having one of those bouts of fever that used to last (largely untreated) 4 or 5 days. The first two days when the temperature was 4 degrees Fahrenheit above normal were days of complete starvation, other than the cussed barley water. As the fever receded I was allowed some dilute milk. A good two days after the temperature touched normal and stayed put there, I was allowed to eat 'twice-boiled' rice (punah-paakam) with a slice of lemon pickle and tamarind water (rasam).
After that 'hearty' meal, I was too weak to stand up and lay down on the floor to recuperate. But strict orders were passed by my Father before he left for school that I should be keenly watched and not allowed to sleep even a wink. Because digestion was supposed to take place only when one was awake.
My father's widowed mother was visiting us then and assured her son that she would do the invigilation duty. And she sat beside me on the floor with a palm-leaf fan in her hand and a bowl of some liquid with a spoon in it beside her. But she didn't have the intelligence to tell me a good story to keep me awake. A full stomach after a week of starvation was invitation to Morpheus Mellitus and I must have partly closed my eyes.
And then I woke up with a terrific burning sensation in my eyes. That was when I felt equal to murder. And she laughingly said that her bowl contained honey (Mellitus).
And promised that she would repeat the treatment if I dozed off again. I got up, kicked her on her shin, and ran far far away from home and slept off on the stone platform under the temple neem tree to my heart's content.
And she too slept off happily I believe after her daft duty was done...
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Power has gone phut and the laptop is running out of its standby battery.
So, the Morpheus Mellitus series will be taken up tomorrow.
Meanwhile, here is the latest comment on "Celebrating Death" (the identity if the commenter will be obvious if you re-read the piece):
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The first and only time I wanted to choke an old widow and dance on her corpse occurred at my age 4.
I was having one of those bouts of fever that used to last (largely untreated) 4 or 5 days. The first two days when the temperature was 4 degrees Fahrenheit above normal were days of complete starvation, other than the cussed barley water. As the fever receded I was allowed some dilute milk. A good two days after the temperature touched normal and stayed put there, I was allowed to eat 'twice-boiled' rice (punah-paakam) with a slice of lemon pickle and tamarind water (rasam).
After that 'hearty' meal, I was too weak to stand up and lay down on the floor to recuperate. But strict orders were passed by my Father before he left for school that I should be keenly watched and not allowed to sleep even a wink. Because digestion was supposed to take place only when one was awake.
My father's widowed mother was visiting us then and assured her son that she would do the invigilation duty. And she sat beside me on the floor with a palm-leaf fan in her hand and a bowl of some liquid with a spoon in it beside her. But she didn't have the intelligence to tell me a good story to keep me awake. A full stomach after a week of starvation was invitation to Morpheus Mellitus and I must have partly closed my eyes.
And then I woke up with a terrific burning sensation in my eyes. That was when I felt equal to murder. And she laughingly said that her bowl contained honey (Mellitus).
And promised that she would repeat the treatment if I dozed off again. I got up, kicked her on her shin, and ran far far away from home and slept off on the stone platform under the temple neem tree to my heart's content.
And she too slept off happily I believe after her daft duty was done...
********************************************************************************************************
Power has gone phut and the laptop is running out of its standby battery.
So, the Morpheus Mellitus series will be taken up tomorrow.
Meanwhile, here is the latest comment on "Celebrating Death" (the identity if the commenter will be obvious if you re-read the piece):
- Unknown said...
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Dear Sir
Wow!..... Words fail me (though they usually don't).... While my company profits from cancer and its attempted cure, it is still a disease we deeply respect. You had mentioned Auntie's earlier diagnosis but I never knew it had regressed so much. Anyway, ..... I'm very sure she's in a good place as kind souls like her deserve to be. I'm pretty certain she would be most peaceful only if you are keeping your health and your chin up. Keep blogging.
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