Recollections from my Mom's Journal: "Dabur Chyavanprash & The Wing Story"

I am delightfully writing this post for dabur’s contest not because the prizes are too lucrative (of course they are) but I have other reason. Actually the term Dabur Chyavanprash reminds me of chapters about me from my mom’s personal journal ‘Being Mother’. Though, there’s a lot of stuff there, which will unfold bloopers, blunders and some embarrassing secrets of course. I am not gonna bring them up here. Period.

But my childhood has interesting connection with Dabur Chyavanprash, reason being my mom’s over awareness towards my health. I have read her journal thousand times and I would care to recall and mention the incidents in my words, which belong to the ongoing contest’s topic.

Please note: Everything written in Normal style font, belongs to the journal &everything written in Italic style font is inserted as Author's thoughts about the topic. 
These are recollections from the journal, written in author's own language!

The Infant Warmth

The thin membrane on her miniature body is too fragile that I am afraid to touch it. She lies calmly in my lap, her eyes closed, relaxed and she smiles faintly in sleep. She must be dreaming of her past life. Uplifted cheekbones, little fuller lips and a tiny nose; Wait! A tiny nose! No she has a flat nose. Me and her father both have sharp pointed nose then where did she get this one from. I scroll down pictures of my entire family in my mind and find no one such a Chinese style nose. 

Too obsessed with beauty factor for my newborn lady, I pinch her frail nose slightly and try to pull it up, considering that the organ is raw & fresh, so I can give it a desired shape and she outcries soulfully. My illusion for beauty and perfect breaks as her hollering breaks in my heart straight. A strong wave of pain and fear passes through my body. I gently hug her and the infant warmth makes me feel healed. Same happens to her I guess. She is calm now. My every heartbeat is promising her that I will protect her against any type of pain and her calm face conveys that she believes me.

Walking Doll

She is nine and half months old now. She has started walking barely.  One, two, three and sits. She takes three steps carefully and sits down. I am so glad she has started walking so early.

I am too busy at noticing her growing up and offering her best care she deserves to gain a stronger immune system that I often have to compensate it with not writing in the journal. But, whenever I can steal time, I love to mention the great moments about her childhood. It’s the only way of securing her babyhood.

She and Winters:

Born in rainy season, this girl seems to be fond of foggy winters. She’s turning stubborn day by day. Her favorite task is to walk on the chilled ground barefooted. She often keeps taking out wet mud from the flowerpots out in the garden and plays with water all the day. Whenever I try to stop her, she yells and twists her lips in funny shapes to distract me.

In fact, she wakes up earlier than me and starts doing her these daily cool activities. I sometimes hide behind the curtains and rejoice her cute activities. I wonder how strong kids are. She plays with water and muds all the day but no signs of cold or sneezing reflect. But I am too paranoid about her health. I cannot see her immune system getting weaker.

Whenever I talk to my mother-in-law for my prime concern, she laughs and says ‘Tabriyan ro palo to bakariya chare’. Yeah, I have been very familiar to this famous proverb since childhood. My mother and grandmother would often say this Marwari (Language spoken in southwest of Rajasthan state) proverb. It means Goats eat kid’s cold.

But, I am worried because I remember being healthy as long as I was kid and then when I grew up, health problems started hitting my one after another. This happened because my stronger immune system during childhood was mistaken as lifelong health backup. And, nothing specific was done to make it stronger. The result was weakened immune system with time and I was prone to health issues and seasonal ailments. But, I cannot let this happen with my daughter, as I promised her very first day that I will protect her health forever, no matter what.

***

This trend is common in India. Children, who are born healthy, are not brought up healthy because their parents ignore the idea of strengthening their existing immune system. They believe that things will go the same and overlook the fact that as the kid grows he/she needs to fight with a wider scale of health challenges. And, to beat these challenges, a stronger immune system is required.

The concept is very simple. For a tree to grow taller, become stronger and sustain for longer, a strong and deep root system is required. To make this happen, the gardener needs to offer it water, fertilizers, enough of sunshine, rain and complete care since when the seeds are sawn and specially when the tree is a little plant.

Similarly, parents need to pay complete attention towards strengthening the roots of their kids’ immune system.

Finding the solution: Flipping through the The Charak Samhita Secrets:  

My father always suggested us all to consume enough to Amla (Indian gooseberry), Giloy (Gulancha Tinospora), Tulsi (holy basil) and Mustak (Cyperus rotundus) to prevent from cold. Also, he explained numerous other benefits of these herbal assets. Also, he always recommended drinking boiled cow milk.

But, as she grows up, she wants raw milk, doesn’t event looks towards Amla (Indian gooseberry). Her stubborn nature terrifies me. I have to look for some other ways. Probably I should look for some Ayurveda options to strengthen her immune system.

As I flip through the Charak Samhita chapters, countless ways of living healthy life are discussed here. Rishi Charak has talked about Chyavanprash, the indomitable formula for stronger immune system. The good thing is that people of every age can take it. Needless to mention, it works the best and fastest in kids.

I asked my husband to bring Chyavanprash for the little stubborn lady. He argued that where would we find such ancient Ayurvedic stuff nowadays. But, I gave him ultimatum to don’t enter the house without bringing the Chyavanprash. *Benefits of being Beloved Wife*

He came delighted, holding a while cute container, imprinted Dabur Chyavanprash in it. Little princess was more excited to open it up. She loves the feeling when her father brings something from market. She is 100 percent sure that it’s for her. In fact, she sometimes takes her father’s shaving cream into custody.

The bottle looks cute. White body and red cap! It appears like a man with peer shaped face-cut and red hat.

My husband told me that it was easily available only he didn’t know about this product. He praised me for being a good researcher and caring mother. “The shopkeeper told me that it tastes best with milk” He said.

The struggle begins:

She eats Chyavanprash happily and takes it along with milk! This might sound as magic, but it’s actually a long battle that a mother finally won.

It was even tougher to make her eat Chyavanprash with milk. She didn’t like the taste very first day. She rejected to consume it and cried. No requests worked.

Then I planned to insert Chyavanprash in her daily fairy-tales. I punched the role of Chyavanprash here and there in the stories and soon she started getting fascinated with it. I told her how little kids become fairies. And, the secret to become fairies of course was consuming Chyavanprash with lukewarm milk.

I promised her that if she starts consuming it daily; soon beautiful wings will "spring up" on her back.

Curtsy-Google Images

Teeny Bloopers:

She has stepped into her teens and I am again paranoid. She will have new dreams, first and ongoing crushes, heartbreaks and a lot more to handle. But, luckily, she needs not to deal with pimples and all because she has eaten up enough of herbal and healthy stuff since childhood.

She often prefers to go out without carrying woolens this winter. I know she believes that she looks hot in her jeans and polo tee. She carries the jacket in hand but never puts it on. You cannot even talk of warm inners in front of her.

I know it’s the warm blood in her veins, which calls for a furious adolescence. I sometimes get paranoid that what if someone will break her heart! But I have to hold on the rage and let her experience her life in her own way. Though, I always talk to her about my views towards relationships and try to counsel her. She’s a well-mannered and well-versed girl, I know she’ll never do anything wrong to herself or someone else.

But, thank God! I was able to protect and strengthen her immune system since beginning so that I am at least not worried about she not wearing woolens in the foggy January month.

***

Reading all these chunks from my mom’s journal makes me thank Dabur Chyavanprash for not giving me wings but giving me freedom to stay healthy and immune. Still when me and mom sit together holding our spoonsful of Dabur Chyavanprash, I ask her “Where are my wings” and she smiles back, saying “Don’t you know my love, they are engraved at your back! But, they are not visible to all people, only selected ones, like me can see them.”

We laugh out loud together and say it often, together, “Milk tastes best with Chyavanprash”

Lately, when I brought mango flavored Dabur Chyavanprash, I speak, “Its yummy! Thank God I will not have to promise my kids ‘wings’ to make them eat” and my mom says, “Thank God! Chyavanprash is not only for kids; otherwise I would have regretted missing out these flavors”

Picture Curtsy-Indiblogger
To know more about product, visit-http://www.dabur.com/Products-Health%20Care-Chyawanprash

Interesting how health products presented by manufacturers, who are not our family members certainly become an inherent part of our families and lives.

 I thank Dabur Chyavanprash for keeping me and my family healthy. But, I would request the makers to turn my wings visible, so that I can get famous. 

PS: This post is written for Indiblogger's contest for bloggers, in association with Dabur-An Immune India

Dust Particle

When the wind blows whistle and signals for the gale

He shuts down doors & windows as the tree leaves hail

His little daughter jumps in joy, ignorant of peaked wind scale 

Fearless of the horrendous storm she waves to the gust

When he interrupts, she screams, “No, let me say Hi to the dust”

Why do you need to greet the filth outside?

She turns back angrily, with her tiny eyes open wide

“Dadda!, when wind blows, dust particles from everywhere, roam

You never know, which one of these belongs to grave of my Mom”

The Backyard

“Come HERE…Shhh… don’t make noise…”

“But where are we going…”

“In the backside of my house…”

“Nooo, its icy out there…”

“Don’t worry, my heart is on fire, so my hug will keep you warm”

“I hate it when you 'grin and wink' together”

“Ahh.. then you must love it when I 'kiss and cuddle' together”

“Arrgghh.. Stop being naughty”

“Your blushes seduce my naughty nerve fibers”

“You are mmm immm.. possible mmmm”

“And you are mild…mmm… & exotic… mmm & the perfect thing to be with in the backyard”

Lips entangled completely…. No scope for a single word to escape from our mouths.

“I love this place, its perfect place to kiss….because no one comes in the backyard” Your roaring husky voice breaks in the silence. I startle to put my finger on your lips and lower your tone.

The dread silence of night fears me. Your voice is lost… You are nowhere… I am stunned. I cannot figure out what’s happening and suddenly a wave of pain breaks my illusion. And, the difference between memories and reality is erased.

And now my deaden whisper breaks in the dreadful silence, “I love this place, it’s a perfect place to cry because no one comes in the backyard… Not even you.”