OF NAILS AND MIRACLES
On my way to the barber's shop in
Hazratgunj Lucknow, I took a shortcut through a bylane in the Maqbara colony opposite the Halwasiya market. At a particular point in this deserted lane a crowd was spilling into the street from a house. It was early in the morning and the bylane had hardly any traffic except those going into that particular house.
As I walked by the house on my way
to the barber, I asked a young man
standing outside as to whose house
it was.
" This is Dr. Pepper's clinic," he
informed me," he is there, examining his patients."
I arrived at the barber's shop and
settled down for a haircut. A barber
is like the internet. You ask him
about anything and he has the
information !
"who is Dr. Pepper ?" I asked him as
he got busy clipping my disorderly
hair.
" He is not an M.B.B.S. doctor." he
said, "He is a MiracleWorker. He
inspects your nails and then tells you your health problems right from the day you were born. And he gives
herbs. All free. If you have not
visited him so far you have missed
something remarkable."
" If everything is free what does he
do for a living ?" I asked.
" He has a ten to five job." he said."in the mechanical engineering line.
People call him a doctor because he
is far better than a doctor. Even
doctors come to him for treatment -
by the backdoor ofcourse, to save
face !"
The next morning I was at Dr.
Pepper's house.
He was a lean and thin aging and graceful man with clear intense eyes and a thundering voice. Sitting in an armchair in the covered verandah, Dr. Pepper kept examining a patient, tapping each nail with a matchstick. The patient had placed all the ten fingers on the wide arm-rest of the doctor's chair.
"Did you ever go to the sea shore for
swimming?" he asked the patient.
The sea coast is a good thousand miles away from Lucknow.
"No. Never." replied the patient.
" But ten years back you were
definitely doing something in the sea. Try to recollect" he insisted.
The man was silent for a while and
then remembered something.
" Yes yes, I went on a pilgrimage to
Puri in orissa ten years back and
took bath in the sea." the patient
said.
" And you were bitten by something
while bathing. Here on the leg." he
tapped the patient's right leg below
the knee.
"Yes ofcourse. How do you know
this ?" the patient interjected.
Dr. Pepper ignored the question and
turned his eyes towards us.
"This man was bitten by a fish (he
actually named the fish but I don't
remember which). His present
problem is the result of poison from
that bite. He has been suffering for
ten long years."
And Dr. Pepper then abruptly got up
and left the clinic.
I was preparing to leave when, after fifteen minutes, he came back with a paperbag full of some kind of a grass.
"Here. Take this." he said, handing
over the packet to that patient.
Then he asked the patient to note down in detail the method of treatment."You have this weed in plenty in your village." he informed to the patient.
I did not leave until the last patient
had left. It was an awesome
experience.And then when he asked
me if I wanted anything, I asked him
if I could have a photograph of his.
" what will you do with the
photograph of an old man?" he
asked, amused.
" I will write a feature on you for a
magazine " I said. "this is my first
visit and I find that you are an
extraordinary person."
He was silent for a long time. I
thought he was now waiting for me
to get up and go. And then he spoke
softly , almost inaudibly.
" You have asked me to choose
between the gift that God has given
me and publicity." He looked at me
and smiled."what do you think I
should do ?"
I had got my answer.
"I understand " I said " I am sorry it was a very inappropripate request"
I touched his feet and came out.
But I remained in touch with him for
a long long time afterwards, visiting
him whenever in Lucknow and taking people to his clinic - till his last days.
That was a long time back.
Surprisingly nobody knows about him today, not even in his own
colony. . . .That is the way the world
is. That is also perhaps the way he
always wanted it to be !!
No comments:
Post a Comment