Pox or not...?

Optical exam went good. However, I learnt only after finishing that it would be corrected by HOD. Thought it would be Ma'am... I wrote stories thinkin it'd be her! Well, what's done is done.

Came home. Mom had made the enquiries I had wanted her to. "It is what I feared..."
"Uh oh, chicken pox?"
She is silent. As if the world of finally socializing came crashing on my head, I walk into my room, and frantically message the news to friends. Jus hope I didn't infect anyone today. Apologies if I had, you know I didn't mean to! The I-told-you-sos and take-cares stream into my inbox.

Then realization hits me... late as usual.

"Mom didn't you say I already had chicken pox?"
"You had tiny tiny prickly heat like stuff, when you were 6 months old."
"So, what do I have now?"
"I told her your symptoms, she confirmed it."
"She who? And what do I have?"
"The doctor's wife."
"What... you didn't ask the doctor?"
"No, he is elsewhere."
"uh... so... why not ask him what this is?"
"I know what it is."
"So it is not chicken pox?"
"It is called Manal Vaari Amman."
"Translate pls..."
"I think it is called shingles in English."
"You think?"
"Anyway, same treatment..."
"I wanna know what I have."
"Jus take plenty of rest."
"Mom..."
"Keep drinking fluids. Tender coconut, fruit juices..."
"I have no problems with your treatment. I just want to know what I have... for the record."
"it is called shingles."
"You sure?"
"I know the tamil name for sure."
"o...k... So it is not pox."
"No."
"Thank you."

So to all the people i misinformed, here it is. Shingles (or so i think). Jus check with your moms what manal vaari amman means, and let me know.

But all said and whined about, I got something from my parents these last 10 days that I have never got in the last few years. I don't know what to call it. It started the night I came home from the resort. Dad knew, mom was informed by Balu only at home. Both sat with me, in silence. They didn't make anything worse. That was a moment of joy in itself. They just wanted to know what happened. I narrated. They knew it was nobody's fault, and they were on my side. That was invaluable. It was good to know they were very much the people I wanted them to be. They spoke a little philosophy, something I had been talking to myself about. Knowing they were ok with me, I could move on.

"Don't sleep alone tonight, ok? Come to the master bedroom and sleep on the extra cot." Thanks dad, you spoke my mind.

In the days to come, they didn't question what I did. I wanted to spend time with friends in college the very next day, and they said yes. Even their son didn't flinch. I was there until 7, while my proj viva work was goin on at home. They didn't ask. They knew better. When I came home smiling from college that night, Dad smiled. "So good to see you like this."

News of the inquiry came. They shared my views, again. They even hated the same people I did. They asked the same questions I asked my friends. We were one.

Inquiry was runnin parallely, while something else was running in me. Boils! One sunday, one more the next day, doubles on Tuesday, and on Wednesday, one popped up every hour. I'm majorly freaking out now. Here is my last chance to clear this paper, I have to be someplace next semester, and I get a disease (whose name I'm still not sure of!) Man it's gettin itchy. But I can't stop... gotta study, gotta pass. Oh dear, what is goin on with me? Enter mom. Doctor of divinity. It's a blessing, she says. Explain please, I'm missing out something...

See, she had just given a garland of flowers to the Melmaruvathur Amman on Sunday. The same day that I got my first boil. So, she goes to the roots of the disease and the word and says it isn't Ammai, it is Amman. O...k... Wait there is more.

When people get these boils (no matter what the disease is), it is equivalent to Amman entering the body. So we shouldn't chase it away with Western medicine. It has to be treated the way it has always been from generation to generation, coz this is a really holy disease. The patient (aka...the possessed) is anointed with turmeric and neem leaf pasts and made to lie on colors pleasing to Amman. I should touch the boils on myself only by stroking it with Neem leaves. For, I am appeasing Amman. The Amman within me. People can't call me bad names, or scold me, coz I'm Amman. I sleep on a maroon saree, neem leaves all around me.

I completely understand the science behind it. Yet, when I'm standing like a mannequin while my mother polka-dots me with green and yellow, simultaneously singing "Karpoora Naayagiye Kanagavalli..." I can't help giggling. I apologise to Amman, I know this is a bad disease, and I'm praying that I get cured with no complications. But I can't help giggling. Here's my chance to let my hair loose and do the Bhadragali dance...

But my poor mom. I guess this is straining her. She hardly gets enough sleep, now she has to attend to me too. I can't do anything by myself. She has to make those pastes, she has to apply them, she has to wake up before me, sleep after me, even now that my exams are over. She is the epitome of patience. And my dad... he was so afraid I'd get into some kinda trouble in coll for going to the exam with all these boils, that he waited for me in coll itself the entire 3 hours. Of course, it helped him get a refreshing walk throughout campus, some fresh coffee from canteen (somehow, he hated it!) I guess the trip did him more good. But the fact that he did it itself surprises me!

One thing I learnt... Wish I had a word for it... My parents are always there for me. They make their presence felt when I need it most. Otherwise, they think I'm bold enough to take care of it myself. Leave the overprotection aside... I'm talking deeper stuff. They know when I need them, and they rise without being asked.

My parents... You gotta love 'em!