Chapter Twelve

Amma; The Healer  

Though time was always in short supply, Amma’s eye treatments were never rushed. She would spend time talking to the people who came, many of them women. She knew that most of the women visiting her needed a listening ear as much as they needed the medicine. She strove to ensure that they were emotionally satisfied with the interaction. Talking to them usually would create more work for her but that was her way. She never grudged the time she spent in helping others.

 

Amma would also share with them the treatments she administered to her children. This meant that if any of the neighbour’s children got the same ailment, they would ask Amma for the ‘kashayam’ or the herbal decoction for that illness. When Amma made the medicine, it was a given that the child would be cured because of the power of her healing hands and because she had a dedicated ‘kashayam’ vessel which the others did not have. Amma, being the generous soul that she was, would not let pass any opportunity to be of service to another person even if it meant adding to her work. She would put aside her own work and scout for the herbs and make the ‘kashayam’ when the need arose. She would sometimes verbalize that this would need a lot of firewood at which the neighbours would run home and get the required firewood. Amma would gratefully accept this offering. The ‘kashayam’ would be dispatched to the patient when done and invariably the next day the family would come back singing her praises. We all knew that they’d be back with more firewood should the problem crop up in the future. This was how Amma’s eye treatments extended to providing minor medical help for the children of the neighbourhood. 

 

Illnesses like jaundice were treated by her with herbal medicines. She would crush ‘Keezhanelli’ or Phyllanthus amarus and other herbs and some ‘jeeragam’ or cumin on the ‘ammikallu’ or the traditional grinding stone and mix these into small balls which were thrust down the little throats of the children. Adults were handed bigger portions and asked to swallow these without kicking up a fuss. For moral support, Amma would chant the name of God non-stop while they’d down the bitter medicine. Once they managed this, Amma would hand them half a glass of milk. She would usually ask her patients to bring half a glass of milk with them but if they could not, she would make this available to them anyway. Once she had committed to helping someone, her focus was on healing them without thinking of the cost to herself. 

 

Amma would recite lines from the ‘Bhagavatham’ and knew the section on ‘Poothana Moksham’ by heart. It was claimed that reciting this could drain the fever out of a child. When any of us children took ill, she would place her hand on the child’s forehead and recite the lines till the wee hours of the morning. There was also a medicinal herb that she would use as a panacea for children’s ailments. She kept a dedicated vessel for brewing the ‘kashayam’ or decoction out of this herb. She would place this herb along with water in the vessel, boil it down to half its quantity, strain it, add honey to the mixture when it was still slightly warm and then make the ill child drink it at night. This would normally cure most illnesses. I can safely say that none of us ever needed to go to a doctor or a ‘vaidyan’ for we never had an illness that could not be cured by Amma’s magic potion.

 

As a child, I learnt that I was allergic to a tree called ‘Charr’.  If I touched the tree, even inadvertently, I would get a severe reaction in my joints. Normally I would avoid these trees but once I developed a rash and this got infected. I could not go to school for two days. However, Amma knew the cure for this. There was another tree called ‘Thaanni’ which I had to circumambulate. This tree was not to be found everywhere and we had to go to a neighbouring village for me to walk around it. Whether it was an unknown science or just intense faith at work, I was always miraculously cured.

 

There was also a secret pleasure associated with wanting to visit the home that had the ‘Thaanni’ tree. The tree grew in the courtyard of a very friendly family. They were always happy to see us and would welcome us most graciously. They always had things for us to eat. Whenever we went, Amma as usual would always be in a rush; she had too much to do and so, though she liked to go to visit this family, she rarely had the time for pleasantries. As a result, we would get the snacks packed and hurry home. Amma would anyway not eat anything special without sharing what she got with her children. My share too would get equally divided among my siblings. I never protested and in fact learnt very early to enjoy the pleasures of sharing. 

 

Amma’s love was not just restricted to her children. She also ensured that her own mother was well looked after. When Ammuma came to stay with us, either to help with the children’s birth or otherwise, Amma ensured that she was well taken care of. She loved her mother and was devoted to her and Ammuma too loved to visit Kottarakara and spend time with Amma. She would impress upon Ammuma the need to look after her own fitness and health. Ammuma would normally wear a ‘mundu’ and a ‘rouka’, which was a kind of upper garment and Amma would lavish money on stitching good clothes for her. She was conscious of not wanting to put her mother through any trouble. For instance, on Ammuma’s days of fasting like ‘Ekadashi’ and ‘Pradosham’, Amma would take care of her special dietary requirements. Years later, when Amma started receiving money from her sons, I remember her sending a money order to her aging mother. It was I who went to the post office near my school and sent it. I still remember the four lines scrawled at the bottom of the money order form: “Out of gratitude to the bosom which fed me and helped me grow, I am sending some money to put some milk into your stomach.”