Mystics, Magicians and Medicine People by Doug Boyd

Author:Doug Boyd
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780893894191
Publisher: Himalayan Institute
Published: 2018-04-24T00:00:00+00:00

One evening at sunset, I sat on the buggy seat of a three-wheeled bicycle rickshaw and rode through the streets of Tirupati to call on Rajalakshmi. I was alone. Judy was in bed, and all the others had left for Madras. I had written the address for the rickshaw-walla, but only her name had been enough. Apparently, everyone in this town knew the yogini. The rickshaw, I thought, was the most exciting way to sightsee in this country. One could sit in relative comfort and let the driver do the stopping, starting, and dodging. Walking was more distracting: it took more concentration and often attracted too much attention. The automobile was too insulating. From this seat, I could hear and feel the energetic bustle of the streets, and I could even reach out and touch the side of a sacred cow. I was almost unnoticed as I rode, and yet right in the midst of the washing, cooking, shopping, playing—the vivid hubbub of daily life. I was pleased, in a way, to have been left behind and thus to have the opportunity to explore on my own.

Judy had become weak a few days earlier and had lost her appetite; and when jaundice began to show in her eyes, hepatitis was suspected. Among Rajalakshmi’s students were a number of medical doctors, and she arranged for Judy to be tested. Our suspicions were confirmed. Since my experience with hepatitis in Korea made me a sympathetic “expert,” I was left behind to care for her while the others went on to Madras to continue their research agenda. Her case was not serious, but she needed to spend her days and nights totally at rest. She could not eat more than a little juice or soup, and so I went alone to have dinner at Rajalakshmi’s. I regretted missing Madras, but I was fortunate indeed to have this extra time with Rajalakshmi.

The rickshaw-walla parked his bicycle in front of the house and settled back on the seat to wait. I stood at the door and knocked, but there was no response. The house was dark and it appeared that Rajalakshmi was out, but she was expecting me and I was sure she would return. After a long while, I knocked again, but there was still no response. I decided I should wait for at least another hour, and I was glad that my rickshaw driver had not left me. Eventually, a light came on and she appeared at the door. “I had been in meditation,” she said, casually. That was to be considered explanation enough.

She must have prepared our supper in advance before she began her meditation, for it was ready when I arrived. There might have been someone helping in the kitchen, but if so, that person either left or remained out of sight. In any case, I waited at the table for only a moment. She carried our food from the kitchen on a large tray. It was one of the spiciest meals I had ever experienced.

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