Health is wealth.
Healthy people are happy people.
Take care of your health; happiness will follow.
Despite all the efforts taken by my parents to keep me healthy, I began to suffer from bouts of asthma at the age of four. The sudden change in climactic conditions when we shifted from the cool hills of Halflong, a sleepy hamlet of Assam to the hot, humid plains of Calcutta wreaked havoc with my immunity system and attached my lungs.
I would catch cold very easily. Soon my cold would turn to cough and then I would hardly be able to breathe. I would stay hungry the whole day since I could not swallow any food particle in that condition. My father would immediately rush to the chemist shop and my mother would stay up the whole night administering the doses.
While I would stay awake the whole night, praying to God to let me breathe.
Sometime next morning, my asthma would subside. After a whole day of fast, I would be ravenously hungry for the food my mother would cook. She took particular care to add lots of animal protein and carbohydrates to make up for the loss of energy. Every time after I recovered, there would be a mini-celebration of sorts at my home. Happiness returned after days of gloom.
The same cycle would follow every time I suffered from bouts of asthma. Due to my illness, I never gained any weight in my childhood and remained an extremely thin child.
The doctor gave an ultimatum – if only I was cured of asthma by the age of ten would I be completely cured; else this would be my lifelong companion.
Initially, I would suffer once every month. With regular medication and yoga, I began to slowly heal and the frequency of the attack became less. When I turned ten, I was completely cured of it.
Now when I look back at the six years of my suffering, I remember missing school (I loved to go to school), important class tests, playing with my friends in the colony, eating food, sleeping peacefully, playing games, going for my dance classes and enjoying the carefree happiness of childhood during the days of my illness. Not only me, my parents would suffer with me equally. They would wait in queue at the doctor’s chamber late in the night, run from pillar to post getting medicines, sit by my side trying to comfort me and praying to God fervently. There would be no music, no TV, no laughter and no good food at home. The whole household used to have a grim look about it during those days.
No wonder, it is said and rightly so, that a healthy child makes a happy home.
This post is written for the Indi Happy Hours – A Healthy Child makes a Happy Home campaign. Please visit this link to know more about how you and your loved ones can remain healthy and happy 🙂