In a quaint suburban corner of 1970s Bengal, Baromama – a self-proclaimed doctor with a unique flair for “physiotherapy” – is on a mission. His target? Mejomama’s stubborn back pain! But when a playful pup named Lucky gets involved, things take an unexpected twist. Can Baromama’s wrestling moves and Lucky’s well-timed bark fix Mejomama’s aching back, or will the cure turn into more chaos? With quirky humor, family antics, and a dog who might just be the real hero, this is a story where laughter is the best medicine!
Join us for a heartwarming, comical adventure where medicine, family, and a bit of mischief collide!
Mejomama (middle uncle), groaning like the eighty-year-old sage Ashtabatra, entered Baromama's (elder uncle’s) room. His right hand was on his waist. He was wearing black shorts and a sando (undershirt). A gold medal hung around his neck. His face looked a bit different because he wasn’t wearing his glasses.
Baromama had been very busy since morning today. His dog, Lucky, was apparently losing weight. Every time a brush touched its body, clumps of fur would come off. Even a week ago, when Baromama would appear, Lucky used to wag his tail vigorously, but now it was much slower—like the pendulum of a wall clock, swaying back and forth slowly. Its bark had also lost its sharpness. It now whimpered weakly and lay flat, sprawled out all the time.
Baromama was busy preparing a balanced diet for his dog. A large book lay open in front of him. As he turned the pages repeatedly, I was ordered to "Hold the book." Both the book and the student are equally restless. It’s not fair to just blame the student; we must consider the nature of the book as well. I had been trying to keep it open for a while. The glasses case, paperweights—nothing seemed to work to keep it steady. Where would the nature go? The book was crammed with so much knowledge, yet it acted foolishly. If it snapped shut, that would be the end of it.
Just a while ago, there had been a big commotion with the book. Baromama had opened it somewhere in the middle, holding one side down with the glasses case and the other with a square piece of wood. I was sitting by the window, with my legs up, holding a Tintin comic in my hands. Mejomama had given it to me yesterday as a reward for messing up his back. Suddenly, there was a loud crash. Both the piece of wood and the heavy glasses case had fallen to the floor, lying flat beside each other. The next moment, the book also landed on the floor. Baromama gritted his teeth and muttered, "Rascal, third-grade idiot." I just watched, and kept watching.
Baromama picked up the book from the floor and opened it to the right page again, then placed it on the open book.
Sitting down with a huff, he said, "Like dog, like stick. Like dog, like club."
As soon as our eyes met, he commented, "The word 'rascal' isn’t an insult. Don’t go telling Mejomama that Baromama always curses."
"Did you sit on the book like that?"
"If I don’t break its spine, I won’t be able to get any work done. It has developed the nature of a troublesome person. It doesn’t want to stay open, it insists on staying closed. Now that I’ve done this, it will stay open forever and never close again."
It was a thick, Rexine-bound 'Dog Manual'. Every page had pictures of all sorts of dogs from around the world. Though slightly pressed by Baromama’s weight, the book still held its ground due to its strong spine. There was a plan to torment the book further, but as Baromama lost his patience, I rushed over to hold it.
Various types of tablets lay scattered on the glass table, and Baromama was crushing them with the back of a spoon. He was so busy with his work that he didn’t even notice Mejomama had arrived.
"If something’s bent for life, how can you straighten it? It’ll remain crooked," said Baromama without looking up.
"Ah, it bent because I tried to straighten it!"
"What? What are you talking about? Is it a dog’s tail? Can’t it be straightened?" Baromama finally raised his eyes and looked up. He had to.
"What do you mean you can’t straighten your back? Look at mine. I can straighten it, bend it." Even while sitting in his chair, Baromama began to demonstrate how he could bend and straighten his back.
Mejomama had his right hand on his waist, his body bent forward like a bow. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t straighten himself. His face showed signs of pain. In that condition, he said, "Your back and mine are very different."
Baromama, who had been about to lean forward, straightened up, saying, "What do you mean? How is it different? You’re a human, I’m a human. Do you think you’re a superhuman or something? Yours is just a fancy..."
(Mejomama protests,) "My back is a hardworking one."
Mejomama protested, "You always twist everything, Baroda. There's Vitamin Complex powder on your forehead."
Baromama touched his forehead. But Mejomama didn’t stop, "Before I could even finish what I was saying, you started snapping back. I just meant to say, your body has always been fit. You do exercises, yoga poses. I don’t do any of those things. I’ve ruined my back by not working it out."
Baromama seemed pleased with Mejomama’s words. He asked, "Why didn’t you work it out? You have all the knowledge in the world, but you don’t know this—that just like you need to keep a door’s hinge working smoothly, you need to keep the body's hinges mobile too."
"Oh, that realization only came to me recently! For the past few days, it’s been aching, aching... This morning I thought, I’ll raise my hands above my head, press them beside my ears, lean forward without bending my knees, and touch my toes. Even though my knees bent a little, I managed to do it. But as soon as I tried to straighten up, there was a crack, and I ended up like this." Mejomama's face looked as if he was about to cry.
Baromama always felt deeply for others' pain. He stood up and told Mejomama, "Come, step into the middle of the room. Medicine won’t work. You need physiotherapy."
Struggling, Mejomama moved to the center of the room. Seeing his ridiculous state, I couldn’t help but laugh. Several times, I made little snorting noises trying to suppress it. It was very improper, but what could I do? I just couldn’t hold it in.
Baromama gently patted Mejomama’s back twice, "Ah, it’s completely jammed up. You’ll need to oil it regularly. It’s rusted." Stepping back, Baromama looked at Mejomama the way one checks whether a painting is hung straight or crooked on the wall. "Remember, forty degrees north, ten degrees west, zero degrees east."
Hearing this, Mejomama said, "Are you steering a ship or something?"
"Now you’ll understand why the Bauls say 'Body is a boat'. First, I’ll push you forty degrees north, then twist you ten degrees west, holding your shoulders. No need to do anything to the east. Done! Now you’re..."
"You'll become a proper professor."
Baromama rubbed his palms together like a wrestler. Mejomama, filled with fear, said, "This feels like your demonic treatment, brother. It’s going to hurt a lot. My back will end up permanently creaking like a broken door hinge."
"What do you know about anatomy! Do you even know what the end of the spine is like? How many bones are there? Do you know the system here?"
As he spoke, Baromama moved closer to Mejomama, while Mejomama slowly backed away.
Baromama said, "Do you think I’ll hit you from the front? Not at all. I’ll swing my arm from behind, over your neck, and place my wrist right in the notch between your throat and chin, then pull back sharply."
From the look on Mejomama’s face, it seemed like he wanted to escape. He was slowly moving toward the door. Baromama noticed, "Why are you moving toward the door? Planning to escape?"
Mejomama replied, "Your demeanor is making me very uneasy, brother. The way you’re creeping toward me like a black panther! I’m scared. Please leave me alone. I’ll fix myself."
"What does that mean? Don’t you trust me? Do you think I don’t know anything about anatomy?"
"Why would I think that? Who else in this village is a 'Telopathic' expert like you? But the truth is, I don’t really trust—no, I mean, I don’t have much enthusiasm for allopathy. I want homeopathic treatment."
"What, do you think I’m doing allopathy? I’ve just returned after a three-month training in physiotherapy, and you’ll be my first patient. I didn’t expect to find such a perfect case so easily at home."
"Brother, I’m begging you! Believe me, I’m almost straight now. Look at me. Don’t I look straighter than before?" Mejomama forced himself to stand a little straighter, but then cried out, "Ow!"
Baromama laughed out loud and said, "Unless I get my hands on you, you won’t be fully repaired, Mejomama!"
Baromama blocked the door. "Come on, stand still in the middle of the room. You know, I used to be a wrestler once. If you keep moving around like this, I might stop seeing you as a patient and think of you as an opponent, and then suddenly give you a twist. After that, you won’t be able to get out of bed for three months."
Under Baromama’s bed, Lucky, the dog, was lying sprawled out on a small carpet. It wasn’t feeling well and had been lying down all day. Its hind legs and tail were sticking out from under the bed. Baromama really did seem like King Kong at this moment. Somehow, he would have to...
Baromama was about to twist Mejomama from behind. Mejomama was in a difficult position, retreating toward the bed.
I knew something like this would happen. Mejomama’s foot landed on Lucky’s exposed tail. After a long time, Lucky jumped up. That old fierceness, that old bark—it was all back. With a loud "woof, woof," Lucky leapt up, banging its head on the bed. Mejomama has a terrible fear of dogs. Startled by Lucky’s sudden barking, he straightened up instantly. The kink in his back popped loose in his own surprise.
As Baromama cleared the table of the ingredients for Lucky’s balanced diet, he said, "See, even a doctor’s dog becomes a doctor. I didn’t even have to touch him. My assistant, with just one bark, fixed your Mejomama."
I said, "Mejomama’s foot is like Ramchandra’s foot. As soon as it touched Lucky’s tail, it was like Ahilya being restored, and he sprang to life. Since then, look at how sprightly he’s been. That old spirit is back."
It didn’t seem like Baromama was too pleased with my comment.
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