by Gita V.Reddy
Daksha, the Medicine Girl
By
Gita V. Reddy
Copyright©2014 Gita V.Reddy
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Books by Gita V.Reddy
Novels
Hunt for the Horseman (Adventure)
King Neptune’s Delite (Adventure)
Cheetaka, Queen of Giants (Fantasy)
Chapter Books
Cinderella’s Escape (Mystery)
Dearie the Deer (Animal story)
The Forbidden Forest (Adventure)
Another Midsummer Night’s Dream (Fantasy)
The Missing Girl (Fiction)
Krishta, Daughter of Martev (Science Fiction)
The Magician’s Turban (Fantasy)
Daksha the Medicine Girl (Fiction)
Knife and Fork (Fable)
Make a Wish (Fairytale)
Short Story Collections
Theft at the Fair and Other Stories
The Dinosaur Puzzle and Other Stories
The Unicycle and Other Stories
Dedicated to my dear friend
Devika Varadrajan, with love
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
My Books
Chapter 1
It was a clear day, without any mist, and a pale sun shone in the sky. The ice-covered mountains glowed with a quiet light. Daksha stood watching Panditji, the vaidya, go slowly down the mountain on his mule. She watched until he was a speck in the white landscape.
(vaidya: an ayurvedic doctor; ayurveda: traditional medicine, native to India).
Daksha’s hamlet was high up in the Himalayas. It was surrounded by mountains that remained ice-clad all through the year. The nearest village was a good two-day mule ride away. During the winter months, the route was frequently impassable. Three or four days of heavy snowfall were enough to block the narrow path and cut the hamlet from the rest of the world.
Daksha breathed in the mountain air. There was a whiff of fresh chill in the air and the sky was changing color to the north. It would snow within the next two days.
“What will you make of it?” she asked the week- old lamb cradled in her arms. “You will have to stay indoors. Will you miss the valley?”
The lamb rubbed his head against Daksha. “You will be just fine. We’re moving into Panditji’s house. It’s warmer than ours,” she told him.
Chapter 2
Panditji’s house was the biggest in the hamlet. It was made of wood, stone, mud bricks, and plastered with clay. It was the only house having two floors. Daksha would be living here during the harsh winter months. She had moved in her three goats, two lambs, and two sheep. They were in the large room which opened to the back of the house, along with Panditji's animals. The next room had enough fodder for the winter. A third room had a covered well with a pump.
A wooden staircase led to the upper rooms. Panditji’s store of herbs, the pestles, the thick-bottomed vessels for preparing the curing mixtures, etc., were in one of these rooms.
During the coming months, Daksha would pound the herbs and complete such other tasks he wanted her to do. He had left a store of winter vegetables and roasted grain, safe from the coming frost. There was also enough flour and salt and marinated pickles. She had coarse wool to knit socks and caps which would fetch some money and also keep her busy.
Every winter, more than half the inhabitants left the hamlet. Life was difficult with the houses getting snowed in. There was no work to be had. They could not cultivate their small fields and they were too remote to be on the tourist map. Some men left to work as porters, and some as shop helpers. Old people, women and children who had relatives in the plains or less remote areas and were willing to take them in, also left.
Daksha stood in the centre of the room, listening to the silence. A week ago, the hamlet had been a hive of activity. Everybody had been busy working and helping one another.
Those who were leaving made sure that their houses would withstand the snowfall. They reinforced the supports and closed the cracks. As they carried most of the grain and their clothing with them, nothing much was left in their houses. Sometimes they took the sheep and goats along; otherwise, a member of the family stayed back for the animals.
People like Daksha who could not leave were busy preparing for the coming long winter. Vegetables like carrots and cabbages were harvested from the scanty fields. Millets were roasted on a huge earthen stove, common to the village, and stored in earthen jars.
Until last year, Panditji had stayed in the village during winters. Daksha had spent the days in his house, helping with the pounding and sieving of dry herbs, boiling leaves and roots and making 'karhas', decoctions that soothed fever and cough and many other ailments. She liked it when she worked there.
Panditji was old and as the years went by, he found the winters increasingly harsh. This year he had gone to the plains to spend the winter with his nephew. Instead of moving his medicine chests and the various instruments to Daksha's house, they decided it was better for Daksha and her animals to move into Panditji's house.
Chapter 3
Five years ago, landslides followed by flash floods swept away half the village. Daksha lost her parents and brothers. She was then seven but like all mountain people, no stranger to danger and calamity. The surviving villagers helped one another to rebuild, and life went on.
During the summer months, like the other children in the hamlet, Daksha took the goats and sheep to graze on the mountainside. She also gathered herbs for Panditji.
The hamlet was a cluster of houses set close to one another, sometimes sharing a common wall. This was true of the people also. They were bound by close ties. They worked together and helped one another. Daksha missed her family but she was not an orphan.
`*`*`*`
A week after Panditji left, the hamlet had its first big snowfall. Those left in the village cleared the snow from the paths that led to each other's houses. Within a few weeks, the snow was over six feet deep. Walking on the paths was like moving in corridors of ice. The tiny village was blanketed in snow and silence. The people spent most of their time indoors.
`*`*`*`
One afternoon, the villagers heard cries for help. Two army men, almost frozen to death, had staggered into the village. One man had a broken arm in a makeshift sling and the other man, himself unsteady on his feet, was trying to support him.
One of the villagers, by name Mahadeo, helped the men to his house. They were freezing. Some other men rushed in with quilts and ‘kangaris’, small baskets with burning embers, to be placed inside the quilts for greater warmth. A fire was lit in the room.
The man with the broken arm slipped into unconsciousness. The other man looked exhausted. He was also shivering. He spoke in a faint voice, "Get a doctor or a vaidya for Arjun."
The villagers looked at one another helplessly. They knew the men needed medical help; he had a blue look about his mouth. But Panditji had left the village.
Without a word, Daksha went to Arjun. She placed her palm against his forehead, checked his pul
se, and observed his breathing. She told Mahadeo’s wife to boil water, she would get medicines from Panditji’s house.
She added some herbs to the boiling water and placed the steaming bowl beside Arjun. She told Mahadeo to rub the medicated oil on Arjun’s temples, palms, and chest. She got the other villagers to help. They supported the unconscious man and she carefully put drops of medicine into his mouth.
Chapter 4
Arjun’s companion was in another room. Mahadeo gave him the ‘karha’ Daksha had prepared, to ward off the chill. An hour later, he was able to speak. He said, "I'm Subedar Hamid. We were taking supplies to our troops when our truck skidded and rolled down several feet. I jumped out but Arjun was at the wheel. He tried to control the truck. When it overturned, he fell, hit a rock and broke his arm. He also hurt his head. He wanted me to leave him and go.
“The truck came to rest about twenty kilometers above your village. It was damaged and the radio smashed. We couldn’t contact our base. Arjun kept insisting that I should leave him and go for help. He did not want to slow me down. I decided we would climb down until we came to a cave or some shelter. I would leave him there and get help. But the thick layer of snow hid everything from view. Moreover, it continued to snow.”
“How did you find our village?”
“By luck. The snow and Arjun’s injury made it difficult to climb down. We barely avoided plunging down the mountain. We did not spot your village until we were in it because of the huge piles of snow around it. What village is this?
"Parbat Devi."
“Is there a vaidya or a doctor hereabouts? Arjun’s arm has to be set.”
"We have a vaidya, Panditji, but he has gone down to the plains for the winter."
"Who gave this medicine? I'm feeling better already."
Mahadeo brought Daksha forward. "Daksha helps Panditji and she has learnt a lot from him."
Subedar Hamid looked worried, "What about Arjun's arm? Can we take him down to some other village?"
"No, the village is snowed in. The only way out of the village is by the way you came in, that is, to go up the mountain. There is no village higher than this except for an army chowki. You can't climb to it in this weather because the mountain is very steep. You'll be buried under the snow in no time."
(army chowki : army check post )
"What's to be done? His arm is very bad. It's swollen. Perhaps there are broken bones. He also hit his head," said Subedar Hamid looking very troubled.
"Nothing can be done for two months, until the thaw sets in," Mahadeo said and the others nodded.
Arjun regained consciousness but seemed dazed. Subedar Hamid was immediately at his side. Mahadeo helped him drink the ‘karha’.
Sarsati remembered something. "Daksha, you set your goat's leg when it fell off the cliff, didn’t you?"
Daksha nodded.
Mahadeo asked, "Can you set Arjun's arm?"
"What? This girl will set his arm? No!" Subedar Hamid said, shocked. "There should be some other solution."
The villagers again shook their head. Mahadeo explained, "We're a small hamlet of thirty families. Some of us leave in winter because the village gets snowed in. If Daksha can do something for Arjun, he's lucky."
Everyone looked at Daksha, waiting for her to speak. She said in her soft voice, "A herbal bandage will bring down the swelling and reduce the pain by tomorrow. I’ll examine the arm and decide whether I can set it. For now I'll bandage it loosely with some support, to prevent more damage. We'll cushion his arm so that he doesn't move it in his sleep."
Daksha took some ground herbs and wrapped them in a thin cloth and warmed them over the embers of the 'kangari'. She carefully bandaged the arm with two wooden splints for support, cleaned the cut on his forehead and applied a paste. She asked him whether his head hurt and if he felt strange or nauseous.
Subedar watched the tall slim girl, barely into her teens, go about the job calmly. He noted the clear grey eyes and the steady hands and felt hopeful that she would be able to help Arjun.
Everybody left for their homes except for Daksha. She stayed back in Mahadeo's house. It had begun to snow again. Sarsati sat up with her beside the sleeping men. Subedar Hamid slept comfortably but Arjun was restless. Every now and then he woke up. Twice during the night, Daksha gave him some milk with a herbal medicine. It was a mild sedative. By the early hours of the morning, Arjun slept deeply.
Chapter 5
The next day, Arjun had a mild headache. His fever had come down. The arm was still painful but the swelling had reduced. Daksha examined the arm and shoulder. She took a long time and asked Arjun many questions. She made a child take off his shirt and sit in front of her. She slowly moved the child's arm and looked at the interplay of the bones and the muscles. The village was assembled around them but nobody spoke a word. They watched silently.
Finally she said, "The bone in the arm has been broken and is out of line. The shoulder bone is dislocated because of the break. If the arm is set properly, the dislocated bone should slip back. Otherwise, later, after the arm heals, massage and exercise will set it right."
Daksha carefully aligned the bones and set the arm with splints, packed it in herbal paste, and bandaged it. She also made a sling for the arm.
`*`*`*`
Subedar Hamid and Arjun ended up staying in the village for the next two months. The snowfall was exceptionally heavy that year. Hamid and Arjun (with his one arm) joined the villagers in shoveling out huge quantities of snow. They became a part of the village, helping in chores and chatting around the common fire.
Subedar Hamid took over the care of Panditji’s and Daksha’s animals. Daksha slowly got over her shyness and listened while he told her about his daughters, Shabana and Farzana. Shabana was a year older to her and Farzana, a year younger.
She answered his questions and told him the uses of the decoctions and powders she prepared. Parts of the same plant had different uses. Or only some parts were used, like the bark, or the inside of a root. The preparation also varied. There were cold decoctions where the herb was crushed and left in water, and decoctions that required boiling.
“How do you remember all this?” Subedar Hamid asked. It surprised him that an illiterate mountain girl, who had never left her village, could be so knowledgeable about medicine. Daksha only smiled and said, "It's easy. I've been helping Panditji."
He couldn't get much out of her. She was not very talkative. Perhaps, living among the lonely mountains and growing up without brothers and sisters had made her silent.
Arjun's arm was healing. The swelling had come down and there was no pain. It was only a matter of time for the broken bones to fuse together. He and Hamid were grateful to Daksha and also very curious about her.
Sarsati told them about Daksha. She was not like the other children; she never had much to say. During summer, the children went into the valley to put the animals to graze. They played games and had fun. But Daksha was apt to drift away to some secluded part by herself. Or she would watch the animals frolicking around. She was especially fond of studying the lambs. Very often she'd hold a lamb in her lap and hand feed it. While it nibbled at the grass, she'd trace its bones with her hand. She was always curious to know the bone structure of animals. The way the lambs moved, the play of muscle and bone fascinated her. She moved her own slim hands and arms and tried to imagine the way the bones meshed.
Her other passion was gathering herbs for Panditji. Since some years, Panditji could no longer go down on his knees among the many bushes that grew in the valley, to gather leaves and roots. He would slowly go a little way down into the valley, locate whatever he wanted and call out to some passerby to help him. Mostly it was the children. The other children did not have the patience to look for what he wanted. One boy even liked to tease him and gave him the wrong leaves again and again.
But Daksha loved to locate the plants and pick them. She willingly went into the thickest of bushes and endured scratches
to get the herbs. Slowly, she became his assistant and began to help in grinding, mixing, and boiling the herbs and roots.
Panditji, whose wife was no more and children were away in Dehradun, liked having her around. He fell into the habit of telling her the uses of the medicines and their dosage. Within two years, she didn't need him to tell her what was required from the valley. She went alone and got all the medicinal plants he wanted. She had a keen eye and sense of smell. If she came across some new plant, she went back and described it to Panditji. He told her what it was and whether it had any uses.
`*`*`*`
The season changed and the snow begun to thaw. Arjun's arm had healed. It was still a little stiff but he had complete faith in the medicated oil and herbal powder Daksha had given him to use for another month.
Subedar Hamid and Arjun left the village, to return to their army post. Panditji and the other villagers came back to the village. The snow melted and the valley filled with fresh leaves and flowers.
Chapter 6
Panditji was astonished to learn that Daksha had treated the army men. He did not know she had learnt so much while working with him. When he told Mahadeo and the others, “I couldn't have done better," Daksha glowed with pride.
Three months later, the village gathered at Panditji’s house to witness something unusual. The postman had come up to their village. He had never done that before. He usually gave the letters to Mangru from the village, who had a shop on the lower slopes.
This letter was different, he said. It was a registered letter from the government. It had to be delivered against acknowledgement.
The letter was in English and it was for Daksha. The postman took a long time to read it, not because it was lengthy but because he could not understand what it said. It took him longer to make the villagers understand what it was about.
He said, "They want to take Daksha."
"Who wants to take Daksha?
"Army."
"Why? What has she done?"
"They say they'll put her in the army school."
"To make her a soldier?"
Daksha began to tremble. She didn't want to become a soldier. It was all very confusing. None of them could read the letter except the postman and he insisted that the letter said the army would take Daksha and put her in the army school. There was hardly any work done in the village that day. Everyone took the letter, turned it this way and that way and tried to make some sense out of it.