Spray and pray

 Seenappa’s wife came with him to meet me the other day.  She is a tall, thin, hard-working woman, albeit a forbidding personality with a quick temper.

“Can you give me something really strong for a headache?” she asks, walking slowly to a seat and squinting through the obvious pain she is in. I know that she suffers from headaches often; when she does, her husband keeps his distance and bears the look of a starving terrified gladiator (how do I know what a starving terrified gladiator looks like?  Asterix).    

“I have some Crocin and Dolo. Will that help?”  When you aren’t a doc, it feels good to be treated as one.

Despite the discomfort, she smiles and shakes her head (when her husband shakes his head, it is because he thinks I am nuts).  “Sir, both will not help, neither will Saridon.  I have even taken 2 Dolo tablets at a time; it had no effect.” This is, of course, downright dangerous and can damage her liver, but I skip the point for the moment. 

I ask her a few obvious questions and call a doc back in Bangalore, but it’s useless; as with most migraines, there is no single cause.  I then remember seeing her in the morning, returning from their beans field, the pesticide sprayer slung over her shoulder.

“If you are prone to regular headaches, spraying poisonous chemicals is a trigger,” I tell her.  “You really should stop using pesticide.”  She says nothing, but lifts her head and gives me a withering look that speaks with eloquence, “Don’t foist your ridiculous ideas on me!” it says and I understand her viewpoint, though with reluctance. 

They leave shortly after and a few days later I see her returning from the beans field, with that sprayer on her back, so my homily has had little effect. 

Perhaps they connected the dots – monocrotophos to migraine - much before I did and have made peace with the devil.  They, and a million others, are conjoined in this matrix-cum-maelstrom of chemical farming to achieve a modest family dream – a small home in her case. It is hardly a dream to grudge….

In search of that ever-elusive bumper harvest – where high output and happy price will combine - migraine must yield to mania. 

As always, the question is: how do you change the script?