Squadron Leader Anil Sehgal
She must have provided healing to thousands of Jammuites in her lifetime ; how many of them, I would not know.
Completely untrained, may be even uneducated, she possessed unique healing powers. Powers only holy persons devoted to a life of piety, devotion and religiosity are believed to possess.
No, you cannot define her as an allopathic doctor, an ayurvedic vaidya or a Unani hakeem. But, like all of them, she provided healing. She gave you freedom from your suffering.
She was not trained in any system of medicine like allopathy, ayurved, or Unani tibbia. Yet, she was a healer like no others. Just a unique healer.
JAMMU JOTTINGS
Yes, she defied all logic of medical science and its commercial considerations.
Allow me to tell you an everlasting mystic experience I gained more than five decades ago in Jammu, the city of temples. An unforgettable experience that baffles me all the time.
From the late fifties to the mid sixties, we lived in Uttar Pradesh where my father was posted. First in Meerut, and then in Allahabad or Prayagraj as we call the city today.
During the summer vacations our destination used to be Jammu, our homeland. Both my maternal and paternal grandparents lived here along with many aunts, uncles and their progeny.
During one of my summer vacations, I was sporting a boil near the right earlobe, just below the lobe. The boil soon erupted. No application of usual antiseptic creams helped.
Dr Shanti Swaroop Chopra (DSC) was a skin specialist of great repute in Jammu. He was educated in the United Kingdom for his skin specialization studies.
He was a very close friend of my eldest uncle, Murari Lal Sehgal. The Chopras lived near Diwanan Da Mandir and we were in Malhotra street.
Every day DSC used to visit us for his evening tea with his friend, our uncle. Thereafter, both the friends will go out for their usual evening activities that included a long walk.
Every evening DSC would meet our grandmother ( Dadi ), touch her feet and offer his respects, as was the practice in all traditional and educated families of Jammu.
One such evening, my grandmother showed my ear to Dr Chopra who prescribed some ointment. I applied the ointment as directed, but it did not help. Therefore, after a few days, the doctor changed the medicine, which still gave no relief. It followed with a short course of some antibiotics. But, the persistent infection refused to heal.
The good doctor was the head of the skin department at Shri Maharaja Gulab Singh Hospital, popularly called SMGS hospital. He called me to the hospital for a skin culture, where after he prescribed some different medicines. Again, unfortunately, no relief was obtained.
My boil was going from bad to worse. Wherever the ooze of the boil touched the skin of the right jawline, it turned into a wound. My elders feared the wound might leave a permanent scar on my face.
So, one fine morning, before I ate my breakfast after the morning bath, my Dadi quietly took me to a house just across the street. This she always referred to as ” ko walyaan da Ghar”, meaning the house of Ko wallas. I still wonder what does it mean in our local parlance.
We met the lady of the house, an elderly woman known to my Dadi. She was a simple and quiet woman dressed in white cotton dhoti and white blouse. She blessed me quietly as I offered my respects by touching her feet.
She took us to the kitchen of the house and asked me if I had eaten my breakfast. I replied I had not. She offered me a glass of warm milk and a fistful of dry fruits.
There was a small chullah burning in a corner of the kitchen. She asked me to cover my head, went to the chulkah, took a pinch of the ash, came to me and, in midst of the silent whispering of some mantra, gave the pinch of ash a soft puff of her breath.
Before I could say Jack Robinson, she sprinkled the ash fortified with the mantras onto my open wound !
I was simply baffled, but kept quiet out of sheer respect for my elders and the fine traditions of our culture that forbid us to question such seemingly bonafide acts.
This process of ash spinkling was repeated for three more days, and, lo and behold, the healing of the open wound was almost complete !
The wound completely healed and has left no scar on my face. There is no trace to show which portion of my face was ever infected with some unhealable virus.
The lady charged us no money, and would accept no gifts. Moreover, she offered me a glass of milk with dry fruits for four days in a row !
What was this if not some divine intervention invoked through the mantras chanted with complete devotionand religiosity by this pure soul ? Is there a scientific explanation other than this ?
Mind you, dear readers, and all the rationalists out there, other than a pinch of ash, this pious lady used no other material like ointment, or even turmeric that we consider great healing agent. I was healed with ash and the mantras !
My Dadi would tell us that such divine healing powers are given to the devout by some wandering souls we call Sadhus for betterment of the suffering masses. This healing power is called ” bakhsh”.
One meaning of “bakhsh” is a “gift”. So, this healing power can be defined as a divine gift. The receiver of this “bakhsh” is forbidden to accept anything in return of the healing he provides. If he does, his divine power will cease to vest in him, such is the popular belief.
I have no clue what kind of diseases the pious lady could heal with her “bakhsh”. But, todate, shivers go down my spine as I touch my right ear lobe and think of the divine mystic experience.
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