Massage in a bottle

Several bottles really.

Here I am at the aryavaidyasala at Cochin, having placed myself – literally – in the hands of the doctors and therapists here. Unlike my last stay at the same hospital at Aluva a couple of years ago, this time my pain levels are terribly high and energy levels proportionately very low. So I pretty much am in bed most of the time, furiously writing blog posts and travel stories in my mind. The good thing is I am earning brownie points from the doctors who think I am resting, as per their advice.

This morning, I complained of lack of sleep to the chief doc – and she admonished me of thinking too much. So much for fooling the docs. She also advised me to read only light stuff at bed time. Children’s storybook types and nothing stronger, she warned me. Good thing I just finished the Peter Robinson I was reading – I was reading Aftermath, which must be one his most disturbing books. Anyway, so now I put aside the Raymond Chandler and started on Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen – I opened the book and saw this of P.G – Compulsary reading for anyone who has a pig, an aunt – or a sense of humour! ~Lindsey Davis.

No pig, several aunts and in desperate need of a sense of humour at present – so this is just what the doctor ordered.

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The young doctor comes around every evening asking if everything is alright. Doctor in training, from the looks of it – my mother mercilessly refers to him as the ‘L Board Doctor‘ – he has a trapped look each time we ask him a question that is obviously out of syllabus. Yesterday, when things got out of hand, he looked straight at me and said, that you have to ask the doctor. I could not bear to see the triumphant look on my mother’s face.

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The other fun thing to do is to watch the non-Mallus – who form the majority of patients, a mix of NRI Gujaratis and foreigners, mostly Europeans -try to communicate with the strictly only Malayalam speaking attenders and therapists and other staff. One of them has given in completely – he has taken to wearing a dhoti and I am told he is learning Malayalam. I came across him this morning on my way to breakfast and said a cheery Hi! to him and he bowed from the waist and said, namaskaram in return. Yes, whatever. This man, he carries a flute with him all the time and plays it at unexpected times. I found myself humming ‘woh Kisna hai’ after this encounter with him..

And so the days go on. Two and a half weeks to go…