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Robert Browning (1812-1889)
from Pippa Passes
The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn:
God's in his heaven—
All's right with the world!
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But at night, brother howlet, over the woods,
Toll the world to thy chantry;
Sing to the bats' sleek sisterhoods
Full complines with gallantry:
Then, owls and bats,
Cowls and twats,
Monks and nuns, in a cloister's moods,
Adjourn to the oak-stump pantry!
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Before all these CAT, MAT, RAT scans entered our civilized lives, medical diagnosis was an esoteric art.
The first physician we had during my childhood was our Telugu Pundit, a double-action hero.
When sent for, he arrived at his leisure, took his seat by my bed, and took my pulse...that's all...no frills.
I learned later on that in Ayurveda our bodies function via the interplay of three operating systems: vatam, pittam, kapham.
This is how our Kabiraj diagnosed my malady:
He kept his forefinger, middle finger, and ring finger on my right wrist and waited for a long minute closing his eyes. His forefinger told him what was wrong with my vatam, middle finger pittam, and ring finger kapham.
Later on we graduated to an LMP (Licensed Medical Practitioner) in his PHC (Primary Health Center).
This chap had what he called his clinical thermometer kept in a glass bottle having some lotion and a cloth-lid with a hole. He pulled his device out and inserted its mercury bulb into my mouth under my tongue and kept it for a good minute by his Favre-Leuba dowry-watch, pulled it out, examined it closely, jerked it down, inserted it back into its bottle...that was all.
Much later I started living in my MD uncle's home in Vizagh.
He had a steth, a tongue depressor, a knee hammer, and a BP kit...big deal.
He laid me down on his bench and did these various things on my poor body:
1. He asked me to show him my tongue. And pulled my lower eye lids and peered into my eyes. This is called Inspection.
2. He twisted my tummy muscles using both his hands. This is called Palpation.
3. He placed his left palm down on my ribs, back, and wherever else he liked. And hit its middle finger with his right middle finger in a wristy action. This is called percussion.
4. He took out his steth, inserted the nosrils of its hood into his two ears, and placed its tympanum on my chest, back, and wherever else he pleased. And asked me to breath in again and again fast. And listened to sundry sounds emanating from my body parts. This is called Auscultation.
5. He asked me to get up, sit down dangling my legs, and in an unwitting moment hit my knee painfully with his knee-hammer and watched the jerk. I don't know what it is called...maybe Kickbacking.
He never bothered to check my BP since I had none.
Much later in 1976 my friend Professor NP Rao took me to Behala in Calcutta where a renowned homeopath Dr HK Biswas had his chamber.
Dr Biswas made me sit by him, and opened his khata, and in a page exclusively devoted to me started taking my exhaustive viva...without touching any of my body parts. And he meticulously noted my answers in that full page.
Questions he posed me were weird, for which I was not prepared.
Like whether I preferred sweets, savories, pickles, biscuits or singaras.
And if I slept prone, supine, turned left or right.
And if I preferred sunshine or moonlight.
...short of asking my dreams, nightmares, fantasies, preferences and perversions.
I still don't know why he bothered about my secret life.
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Homeopathically all human beings can be divided into two groups:
1, Larks
2. Owls.
I never saw a lark, being a late riser.
But I watched dozens of owls, from a distance.
In 1997, while my son was preparing for his SSC Exams, I was giving him company. After his study was over at around 10 in the night, we two played carroms for half an hour, and then took a pleasant walk on the road to Gate #5 from our spacious Qrs B-140.
The road was deserted, and had tall lamp posts and trees by its side.
And on each lamp post and on every tree we found owls sitting and watching us pass by, keenly.
We felt guilty.
And suddenly we used to come to attention and stand like pillars of salt a la Lot's wife.
The owls felt terribly disturbed.
They loved watching but not being watched...like Hyderabadi bibis in their burqas.
And then they took off forwards, flew up, and turned back in graceful arcs, and flew away silently with utter grace...we knew not whereto.
I deem owl as the most delightful thing to watch in all of God's Creation.
We watched them night after night...same sequence night after night.
If I could, I would have a barn owl as a pet:
Thank You!
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