Lockdown Tales

                                            

My mother-in-law had been the Gram Pradhan of her village for three consecutive terms, elected unanimously. After that she was the Chairperson of the ‘Samaj Kalyan Vibhag’, Uttarkashi district. By the time I joined the family she had taken the voluntary retirement. Her long years of social work and family responsibilities went on simultaneously.

Women in Uttranchal villages work very hard. Bringing fodder/grass from the Jungle is a work which every woman does.

One day I was sitting at the verandah of our picturesque house in Uttarkashi. I could hear the sound of the raging river Ganga or Gangaji, as locals call Her. A visitor came with a bagful of vegetables and fruits. Vegetables from her garden and fruits , the first crop of the season from her trees. Later I knew that MiL had arranged for her widow-pension a long time back.

MiL told me that once in the jungle, while cutting grass with a sickle, daranti, she pricked her finger with a thorn. It kept paining for a couple of days. The wound was not getting soft so that she could pull the thorn out. Someone suggested her a herb for quick relief. So she dug up the root of a weed called Chaulaai Kandali. (It was not the common Kandali, a plant commonly found there and stings like a wasp if touched.) She made a paste with the root and applied on the wound. Within 5 to 10 minutes the wound got soft with enough pus. She could pull the half-inch long thorn from her finger to her great relief.

In the times of Corona/ Covid 19, I wonder if there is a remedy for this pandemic, hidden under the earth as a root or blooming somewhere in the wilderness as a flower.