Author: Natasha Israni
Publications: India Today
Dated: September 3, 2001
DUSK BRINGS WITH IT A CERTAIN SENSE
OF tranquillity. it is a time when all activity ceases and the day comes
to a halt. At the Santa Cruz (W) police station, however, sundown brings
its own tumult. Vehicular traffic at the crossing where the chowki stands
is at a peak, as is carbon monoxide content in the air. And there is the
constant shuffle of feet entering and leaving the police station; there
are FIRS to be riled, upset nerves to be soothed, noisy quarrels to be
settled, suspects to be questioned. For the policemen there, it's 18 hours
of work at a stretch. It couldn't get more stressful than that. And Sheikh
Alauddin knows it.
A black leather bag slung over his
shoulders, this pyjama-clad 80-year-old, his hair russet with henna, could
be the native Father Time. But he is no cross-cultural icon, just a man
on a mission. It's an unusual crusade: to right stubborn ulcers, persistent
migraines, appetite loss, even infertility. It's also a path that the grand
old man, originally from Azamgarh in Uttar Pradesh, has traversed for more
than 40 years since he learnt the science of ayurveda from a blind hakim
at Pai Dhuni in Mumbai.
Alauddin could have practised comfortably
at his Bandra kholi, but he took to dispensing ayurvedic advice and medicines
at police stations across the length and breadth of Mumbai. From the RCF
(Rashtriya Chemical Fertilisers) chowki in Chembur to stations in distant
suburbs like Ghatkopar, Mulund or Borivali, Chacha, as he is better known,
is a familiar face, greeted with warm smiles and invariably offered a comfortable
corner to sip his tea and to unload his bag of cures.
Policemen's health as a career may
seem curious but Alauddin has a reason. "I learnt ayurveda for four years
in my spare time while I was selling agarbattis for a living," he says.
"When I finally started practising, I happened to visit a police station.
I saw the over-worked policemen. Inspectors, sub-inspectors, constables
always have some medical complaint or the other, especially stomach ailments.
And since police lines are usually near the chowkis, I can go and visit
their families too."
This seems to make sound business
sense but the patients who have seen Alauddin's many, sometimes even miraculous
cures, have another tale to recount. He's known to be generous to a fault.
The financial aspects of his business are almost secondary to service.
Says S.P. Pandit, senior inspector at the Santa Cruz (W) chowki as he shows
off his bulging biceps which he credits to Mazunakbar, a general health
medicine given to him by Alauddin: "Chacha could live comfortably without
all this travelling. His sons in the Gulf send him money and he's got a
dhobi service. But it isn't money that's driving him. Healing is his obsession."
Pandit is close to the truth. The
pride on Chacha's face is apparent as he jogs his memory for landmarks
in his track record, which include solving a senior inspector's heart problem
and curing another policeman's 15-year-old asthma. "I never got myself
registered officially as an ayurvedic doctor but a mainstream doctor once
called me to rind out how I had managed to cure his patient's tumour,'
says Alauddin, emptying his pockets to display more than 50 visiting cards
of patients, mostly policemen, but also advocates and lawyers.
Interestingly, Alauddin can only
read, not write. But that's never been an obstacle. When a patient comes
to him, he doesn't ask many questions. Neither does he recommend elaborate
tests. For Alauddin, what's important is to correctly determine the imbalance
among the five humours of the body according to the tenets of ayurveda.
But how accurate are his diagnosis
and treatment? Is he just a quack with a conscience? Surely, there must
have been instances in his career when he received complaints from disgruntled
patients about his handpicked herbs and concoctions? "Sometimes the medicines
don't work," he admits with good humour, "but if it was a serious complaint,
don't you think the patient would have put me behind bars?' The words reveal
a sense of confidence. A confidence that comes from having a healing touch.
