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Death of a Financier

Page 13

by John Francis Kinsella


  Ryan nodded politely as the guru ploughed on oblivious to anything but his own voice.

  'In our calling, we study anatomy and metabolism on the basis of our ancient scriptures, using medicinal herbs and natural plants in our centre for the preparation of the medicines necessary to heal those who come to our ashram.'

  'How exactly does it function,' asked Ryan, curious to hear the guru's explanation.

  'Let us take an example, as you know our sense of smell is a trigger for a whole range of reactions, activating our minds, our bodies and our emotions.'

  His listeners looking at him intensely nodded their heads as one and he continued.

  'For hundreds, even thousands of years, we have learnt that natural essential oils have therapeutic values, which work through this sensory mechanism. They act directly on our brain's limbic system through the olfactory nerve, which as you know can affect sleep, digestion, muscles and joints, respiratory functions, mental alertness, emotional balance, skin tone as well as regulating women's menstrual cycles and body weight.'

  Clever, Ryan thought, noting the words designed to specifically appeal to women, who no doubt made up a large part of the guru's followers. He nodded to Jayanthi's pleasure at what he took as Ryan's approval, However, he was mistaken, Ryan's nod was merely a sign that confirmed in his mind the good guru was doing nothing more than meting out the usual mumbo-jumbo that quacks all through the ages had used to ensnare the na?ve and prise open their purses.

  'We should all remember that when we're born,' said the guru pleased with his own words, 'what life holds for each one of us has already been predetermined and happiness is understanding and accepting our individual karma. If we could all live our lives in harmony with nature, then we would be both physically and mentally healthy and there would be no need for any kind of medicine.'

  Wishful and foolish thinking, thought Ryan.

  'You should visit our ashram if you have time.'

  'Ashram?'

  'Yes. An Ayurvedic retreat, it is where we seek spiritual peace. You are most welcome to experience our way of life of meditation, yoga and the observation of a strict vegetarian diet. In our religion all life is sacred and those who spend a little time in meditation will leave feeling purified and spiritually uplifted.'

  'Where is it?

  'Not far from here.'

  Ryan promised he would take time to visit him before he left.

  *****

  Chapter 42

  Sarah by chance found herself on a sunbed by the pool next to Emma Parkly, who she observed was distractedly reading a copy of the Tattler, which after a few moments she dropped onto the low drinks table beside her.

  'Would you mind if I had a look at your Tattler?' she asked hopefully.

  'Not at all,' said Emma turning and remarking Sarah, who appeared to be a little younger than herself, and who after her accent was in her class.

  'Thank you - you're English?'

  'Yes.'

  'By yourself?'

  'No, but my husband is ill.'

  'Nothing serious I hope,' Sarah replied politely.

  'Well I'm not sure, it would be nice if there was an English doctor around, I'm beginning to get worried.'

  Sarah listened, she wasn't about to invoke Ryan's wrath by proposing his services, something he detested outside of his professional life.

  'What's wrong with him?if you don't mind me asking?'

  'Stomach problems, but I think it's more serious than they think.'

  Sarah tried to make small talk, but she saw that Emma very preoccupied.

  'By the way I'm Emma Parkly.'

  Sarah then recognised her, she had a good memory for names, it was useful in her job knowing who was who.

  'Is your husband Stephen Parkly?' she said hesitatingly.

  'Yes.'

  'Perhaps I can help your husband.'

  'Oh.'

  'Let me speak to my brother.'

  Without waiting for a reply Sarah was up and heading for the bar where Ryan was drinking a freshly pressed orange juice and picking unenthusiastically at a late breakfast.

  'Who?' he said standing up on his bar stool to try to see the pool.

  'Don't look!'

  He shrugged.

  'It's Stephen Parkly's wife, Emma.'

  'Never heard of her.'

  'You know, the blonde girl I pointed to yesterday.'

  He searched in his mind for a moment then his face lit up: 'Oh yes, why didn't you say that before. Not bad looking.'

  'Don't be stupid!'

  'What does she want,' he grinned.

  'It's her husband, the head of West Mercian finance.'

  'What's wrong with him?'

  'Stomach problems.'

  'Oh sod off Sarah, I'm here on holiday, not to look after some bugger's turista!'

  'Come on, come and say hello to her.'

  'Well perhaps I'll do that,' he said sulkily, 'but don't count on me looking after her old man.'

  He waved at the waiter for the bill, then pointing to pool abandoned his half eaten breakfast.

  'This is Ryan, my brother, he's a specialist.'

  'Specialist?'

  'Yes, I'm a specialist at the St George's hospital,' he announced admiring Emma's lines in her white bikini.

  'Thank God for that, I'm beginning to get seriously worried about Stephen with that Indian quack.'

  'Tell me what the problem is.'

  'Stephen is in Swami's clinic, but I think it's one of those Ayurvedic places, he has a stomach problem and I don't think it's getting better.'

  'Who's Swami?'

  'He's a doctor the hotel sent.'

  'How long has Stephen been sick?'

  'It started the day before yesterday, now he has a fever and has been vomiting, but Swami says it's normal.'

  'I see. Where is he?'

  'At the clinic, about five minutes from here in a taxi.'

  'Let's go and see him,' Ryan firmly decided.

  Half an hour later they stood at the reception of Dr Swami's clinic, where they were informed the doctor was absent.

  'Can I see my husband?' asked Emma.

  The receptionist picked up the phone and spoke quickly in Malayalam then hung up.

  'He's sleeping at the moment,' she said stiffly.

  'I'd still like to see him.'

  She picked up the phone again and after a moment announced: 'One of Dr Swami's assistants will be here shortly,' her eyes darting from Ryan to Emma suspiciously.

  'I'm a Doctor,' announced Ryan.

  'Oh,' she hesitated, then picked up the phone once more.

  A few moments later a man in a white coat appeared: 'I'm Doctor Kannan, I afraid Doctor Swami is not here for the moment, can I help you?'

  Ryan replied before Emma could speak: 'Nice to meet you,' he said holding out his hand, putting on his friendly professional smile. 'My name is Ryan Kavanagh, I'm a specialist in internal medicine at St Georges hospital in London.'

  'Pleased to meet you doctor,' Kannan replied defensively. 'What can I do for you?'

  'We'd like to see Mr Parkly, he's a friend of mine.'

  'I see.'

  Ryan was puzzled by what he saw as obstruction in the small clinic, a private affair, obviously fairly prosperous.

  'Could I speak to you alone for a moment Dr Kavanagh.'

  'Sure.'

  Ryan followed the assistant through a couple of swing doors into a hallway and then an office.

  'Dr Swami has left for Thriuvanthapuram General Hospital this morning, he had some tests to do in connection with your friend Mr Parkly.'

  'What kind of tests,' asked Ryan, not surprised at what seemed a normal procedure, but curious as to the kind of tests they were making for a patient with a fairly common turista type complaint.

  He hesitated: 'Perhaps we should wait until Dr Swami comes back.'

  'I see.' Ryan noted that the younger doctor was worried about talking to him without Swami's permission. He tried another tactic: 'Loo
k we're both doctors, I assure you I will not interfere in the procedures of your clinic?'

  He was cut short by the arrival of a man with a full head of thick peppery hair, a heavy black beard and with yellow and red Hindu temple markings on his brow.

  *****

  Chapter 43

  India, with its population of 1.15 billion, which continued to grow at an unchanging rate of 15 million a year, as it had done so over the previous half century, with its many castes and religions, was naturally to the ordinary tourist a complex society of which they understood very little.

  Most visitors knew of it as the home of Hinduism, the world's third largest religion, fewer knew that in addition to the Hindus there was also a large Muslim population of almost two hundred million believers, about twenty five million Christians, not forgetting the Sikhs, Jains and Zoroastrians, Buddhists, Bahais and even Jews.

  However, to most tourists, Hinduism and Islam were the most visible and though they were somewhat familiar with workings of the latter, Hinduism was of great complexity to the Western mind.

  It was said that there were three hundred and thirty million gods in the Hindu religion, but for most Hindus three Lords ruled over the world. Brahma the creator; Vishnu the preserver and Shiva the destroyer, each had his own respective consort: Sarasvati the goddess of learning; Lakshmi the goddess of wealth and prosperity, and Parvati known as Kali or Durga.

  Those tourists who had visited almost any Hindu temple could not have failed to observe that there was a profusion of other gods and goddesses, amongst the most common were: Ganesh with the head of an elephant, Hanuman the monkey, Ganga Ma the goddess of the River Ganges and Samundra the lord of the sea.

  Not all of the many gods were worshiped by all Hindus. Some Hindus worshipped Vishnu whilst others only worshipped Shiva. Certain worshipped the goddess called Shakti, meaning power. Hindus also worshipped gods according to their own individual affinities, for example sportsmen worshipped Hanuman who was doted with great physical strength, whereas businessmen worshipped Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth.

  Hindus believed in reincarnation and that a person's fate was determined by his actions. These actions were called Karma. A soul whose Karma was good during his present life would be rewarded with a better life in the next reincarnation.

  Good souls would be liberated from the cycle of birth and rebirth and be redeemed with Moksha or freedom. Hindus normally cremated their dead, so that the soul of the dead would go to heaven, except rare cases for Hindu saints, who were believed to have attained Moksha.

  The main Hindu books were the Vedas. These were Rig Veda, Sama Veda, Yajur Veda and Atharva Veda. The concluding portions of the Vedas were called Upanishads, but there were many other holy books including the Puranas, Ramayana, and Mahabharata.

  These books were epics that told the stories of the gods, their families, kingdoms and the wars they waged. The Mahabharata contained Krishna's dialogues on religious philosophy, this was called the Bhagvad Gita, considered as a separate holy book.

  They had many holy places including rivers and especially the Ganges, which the Indians call Ganga. They also worshiped and respected certain animals and birds like the cobra, apes, peacocks and cows.

  People were born into castes, from which they could not change. Each caste had its obligatory duties, its own professions and fixed social relations, which was to say only with members of the same caste, in for example matters of marriage and eating.

  The Brahmans, whose religion was a forerunner of Hinduism, considered Buddha as an incarnation of Lord Vishnu and introduced part of his teachings and philosophy, such as non-violence, into the religion.

  India's second largest religion, Islam, was introduced to the subcontinent by Arab traders in the 7th century, though it was not until the 10th century onwards, with the arrival of invaders from Persia, the full force of Islam was felt in India.

  The most important difference between the Hindu and the Muslim vision of God was the Hindus belief in pantheism, which considered everything, animate and inanimate, to be divine and sacred. Most Hindus saw God or gods everywhere: in plants, animals, the sun, the moon and in human forms. Muslims on the other hand believed in just one God and that everything in creation was his.

  Islam believed in the equality between men whilst Hinduism was based on caste, though many saw Hinduism as flexible and amenable to reform whereas Islam was rigid.

  In all, four hundred million Muslims lived on the subcontinent formed by India, Pakistan and Bangladesh, or about one third of the world's Muslim population. The Muslims of India were divided into two distinct groups with a system of castes not unlike that of Hinduism. These were the Ashraf and Ajlaf. The Ashraf were subdivided into the Sayyeds, Sheikhs, Mugahls and Pathans, descended from the Arabs, Mughals and Afghans. The Ajlaf, descended from Indian converts, were considered to be of an inferior class when compared to the Ashraf.

  The underlying tension between Hindus and Muslims erupted into violence from time to time, and on occasions with great bloodshed, especially when the flames were fanned by ambitious electioneering politicians appealing to the religious sentiments of the crowd.

  In spite of these complexities, India was changing and its middle classes were increasingly at ease with modernisation and change compared to the poorer majority. Business and industry had seen the appearance of powerful multinationals in just a decade and a half of liberalisation, which was evidenced by the ambitions of middle classes.

  In the past the ambition of the average Indian had been to go into government service or the public sector. The appeal of private business had changed that and many of those employed in the private sector work force were the children of public sector employees, civil servants and teachers.

  The Mittal takeover of the European steel firm Arcelor was a source of national pride for many Indians, just as software programmers or business process outsourcing workers were seen as evidence of India's place in the modern world.

  *****

  Chapter 44

  Ajay's visit to India was not for pleasure, it was for medical reasons - not for reasons of beauty or mobility - it was much more serious, he was in need of a kidney transplant.

  His father, of Indian descent, had arrived in England in the late sixties from his native Mauritius, then a British colony, ostensibly to study accounting and management, but in London he met and married a Dublin girl. His wife, Deirdre, a young nurse, worked in a small rather rundown residential care centre for the elderly in north London and when the owner retired they took what at the time seemed a huge risk, they bought the care centre with the help of a large loan. Slowly they transformed and expanded it into a modern and moderately profitable business with over one hundred residents.

  At thirty seven Ajay and his younger brother ran the centre. Their parents who were now approaching sixty would soon be retiring leaving the business in their sons' capable hands. The only cloud on the horizon was Ajay's health; he had developed diabetes. He was far from End-Stage Renal Disease, commonly called kidney failure, when the kidneys could no longer carry out their vital function of cleansing waste from the blood, waste in the form of uric acid and other toxic substances, but neither he nor his family wanted to wait for that to happen.

  The long term solution was a kidney transplant. The problem however, was that even with his connections the waiting time in the UK was two years, and as his condition was not considered priority this could be much longer.

  The NHS system was overburdened with the cost of health care growing faster than GDP. It was human; everyone wanted to live a healthy life and a longer life.

  In addition there were moral implications concerning organ transplants and more specifically donors, whether living or dead, which prevented many sick persons from receiving life saving transplant surgery.

  Ajay was left with the choice of dialysis or a kidney transplant overseas. In addition his difficulties were compounded by the problem of finding a matching dono
r. Ajay's Asian ancestry posed a problem, in spite of having an Irish mother, his combination of blood group and tissue type was rare in the UK, meaning donors were also rare. The only solution was India, where a suitable donor could be more easily found.

  'You do not have to worry about the donor,' he was told when he discussed his case over the telephone with the clinic in Kochi. 'It's no problem to have a live donor arranged through a humanitarian organization.'

  Ajay did not ask too many questions, it was his life and if a willing donor was found who would accept fair payment for a kidney he considered it a fair exchange. He could not ask his own family in Mauritius, where Indian traditions were still strong and cultural ethos and religious beliefs were completely different from those prevailing in the UK, their religious beliefs generally discouraging the donation the organs.

  'When you arrive in Kochi,' the specialist had reassured him, 'we shall recheck your blood type to be sure of a suitable match with the donor. If I'm not mistaken your blood type is AB, so the donor can be either be A, AB, B, or O. We shall also have to make some additional tests relating to antigens and allergies.'

  The difficulty with unrelated donors was the limited match between donor antigens and those of the recipient, given that the body's immune system would not recognise the transplanted organ and rejection would follow. However, following the introduction of cyclosporine, an immunosuppressive drug, the success of kidney transplants had greatly improved.

  *****

  Chapter 45

  Barbara, who had no training in medicine, Ayurvedic or otherwise, offered seminars to her adepts in Smethwick on India's traditional health care and medicine. She described it as an ancient system of medicine and it was. The problem was she was convincing and when she told her friends that conventional medicine had its limits they believed her.

  It was more than ten years since she had first visited India and Kovalam, where she had met Dharma Jayanthi as he was simply called then, when he had no pretensions to being a doctor, and when he dispensed herbal body toning massages to passing tourists from a room in the small house he then rented on one of the alleys that led down to the beach.

 

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