We spent 4 nights in Rajpura with the Kumar family. Before going to work or school the biggest of the males helped Nisarga hop outside to the charpai there, and after dinner they help
ed him hop inside. The first few times i watched them do this i was so touched and filled with gratitude that i started to cry. Jackie, the cutest little doggy who also suffers from leg problems (she doesn’t have enough calcium in her bones so they bend) kept Nisarga company outside on the hay stack to his right. Most meals were cooked to his left. We were given a pan so that he could pee and poo in it and i carried and dumped it out on the field instead of him having to hop over there each time and try to balance.
At first we ordered our food but by the second day we realized we were spending way too much money and of course someone would have to go out and get it because there was n
o delivery, so we might as well give the money to the family and save them the hassle of getting our food from outside. Plus, the first time
we ordered enough for everyone but they all refused to share and ate what the mom made so we had to throw away a whole bunch. No point. And that shady mechanic who took forever to replace the burst tire gave us a shitty one because the next day the boys went to pick up the food and the tire burst again. They took the bike to the guy and chewed his head off. (My gut tells me our flat tire was due to the mechanic placing pins on the road just before getting to his, but then again i have trust issues) We felt awful they had to go through that, but were grateful this was discovered in time and close by instead of on the road a ways away. But we couldn’t communicate our request regarding food.
So enters our other angel friend, whom you have already met, Anita. She is the one we stay with in Delhi and whose moth
er’s basement i have stored all my crap in (indefinitely). Yes, a total life saver. I explained the situation and after the initial shock and all, she became our translator!!! Up until then we were mute basically but now we had some exchange! And i had forgotten she’s from Rajasthan (kind of) so that went over very well with the K
umars of course. “Anita please note, we are married, since a year, this is our honeymoon” I prepped her. “Yes of course you are” she replied. I mean come on. We are in a village town in bumfuck, no need to scandalize ourselves or our kind rescuers. She explains on the phone to them that we would love home cooked food, nothing special, whatever they eat we eat. They explained to her that they were worried we would not like their food and that we wanted something else. Great! Sorted!!! And it was good... although very heavy and rich for my taste. Anita insisted we pay for the ingredients they insisted on not taking a rupee; papa angel said to her that thankfully they have enough to feed two more mouths.
We got a 50 litre water jug so that we didn’t run any risk with the well water. Papa angel (Sri Durga Shanker Mobarsha) tied a rope to the roof of the shed under which Nisarga lay every day so that he could 
keep his foot elevated. It worked magic and relieved Nisarga of lots of pain, adjusting to the cast was no easy feat for the leg. He did the same in the room where we slept because nights were tough for Nisarga with the pain and the awkwardness of the cast.
I started to take pictures of things that were going on beyond Nisarga’s view so that i could show him, keeping him connected. Soon they started to ask me to take pictures of them, the family and extended family. I was super glad to.
Then they decided to take me out for some fresh air. Didi (sister), Bhai (brother), one of 
their cousins and i went walking to the dam, where fish are caught and sent off ... to where??? To a cave cum shrine up on a hill. Past the German lady’s 
house who is a ca
mel doctor and has been living there for ages. By the huge cactus. By the well and some smaller temples. Past all the ladies carrying water on their heads. Past the ladies carrying knives out looking to collect wood to burn.
By the next day word had spread that foreigners were at the Kumar’s and some extended family came for a visit, as did Parveen’s father probably wondering if this entire story could possibly be true or if his son was telling tall tales. The village panchayat (council) secretary also came! The first person around to speak English, somewhat. He asked if we were alright, if we were being treated well, if we needed anything, where we were from. The basics but wow, it was a big thing for him to come by to check on us!
At night one of the cousins would sincerely try to teach us Hindi. We failed him miserably. Suresh got a hold of Nisarga’s IPod and rocked his head off. We had a spa afternoon. We played with the baby. We got rackis (special bracelets) from the temple and didi put one on me and one on Nisarga 
and this culturally made us brother and sister with them.
There was even an excursion to a main temple. Parveen d
rove with me in the back, and Suresh drove the Honda with his cousin on the back. We stopped to feed the monkeys along the way. To turn the well, and then we hiked up the never ending set of stairs to the temple. It was a beautiful ride. And as we were resting there along the steps who turns up? Papa angel and the younger brother!!! It was a family mini-yatra! (pilgrimage) They sang devotional songs as they approached the main shrine and prayed. I started to cry, out of pure gratitude for all the love and kindness and protection this family had given us. They thought i was worried about Nisarga and i was praying for him. I was actually praying for them.
No matter ho
w i tried to explain, they could not understand that i might be crying out of joy, gratitude, or just sheer overflow of emotions rather than sadness. When they would see me cry, which was almost every day no matter what i did to fight back the tears, they would worry and tell me everything was ok. I believe that in some way they felt they had failed us in something or done something wrong, that we weren’t comfortable or something negative reflected on them. This of course was not the case. But this aspect of living with an Indian family was quite difficult given that there was no privacy. We could not show our true emotions. We had to smile and be happy, or feel guilty if didn’t because they couldn’t understand (linguistically but maybe even culturally) that it was not because of them. And this started to eat us up inside, like a corrosion that slowly spread.
On our last night there Nisarga had hit rock bottom. He had been pretty down for most of our time there but that day was particularly bad. It was understandable. He wanted to h
ave some time and space to himself and he didn’t want dinner. They were making a Rajasthan specialty however. He said he wasn’t feeling 
well and asked to be helped inside and the brothers helped him. Then everyone moved to that room to keep him company, they blared the TV and chatted away. After he couldn’t take it anymore he hoped himself outside and everyone went out there and sat around him. He said he needed the bathroom in hopes of just getting a few minutes alone in the shitting field. He started to cry, helpless and frustrated. They were very concerned as to why this man was crying, up until then only i had been crying, and as to why his wife (me) was not with him. I was trying to lead by example but it wasn’t working. Since Nisarga had said he wasn’t feeling well, they said they would call a doctor to come to the house. It was time to call Anita! I tried to explain the near crisis situation we were in, and that Nisarga desperately needed some breathing space. Till this day i don’t know what she said to them but within a minute of hanging up they all dispersed and left him alone. Way to go Anita! That volcano almost burst.
It was a huge 
learning and sharing experience for all of us. I don’t know that i have ever received such kindness from strangers ever before in my life. They even offered to give us s
ome money in case we needed it before we went! The father works nights at the water or electricity plant, as a guard maybe. The oldest brother sells stuff (like henna and cookies and other stuff). The youngest brother is in school. Suresh works with Parveen sometimes on electrical stuff. And they offered us money to get by; they thought my tears in part were due to lack of money. Can you imagine? I tried throughout those 4 days to keep myself open and to expand in my capacity to receive. Just receive love and kindness. To be taken care of. To be helpless, lost, to not understand, and to receive. It was such a huge gift! It was amazing.
isarga never saw the train station, i went with one of mossie's sons.
n attendant, usually a member of the family, stays with the patient at all times. Likewise it is assumed and expected that the family bring over food for the patient. At the public hospitals food is indeed crap and you even have to bring your own bedding! But this was a super fancy private hospital. We assured Mossie she did not have to bring any food over and that we would be ok. Hell, if this was the only way we were going to get some privacy then i would gladly stay at the hospital with him.
very 30 minutes someone kept showing up, to clean, to check on him, to do this or that. so much for our romantic get away in the hospital! we watched movies on the laptop and laughed at the situation.
Mossie and Mohit showed up with dinner, of course. And then later the father and the other son also showed up to check on us. So much for a peaceful and restful night at the hospital... never mind romance or playing patient and nurse!
only thing left was to send the bike to our final destination, goa, and get ourselves there. the bike could go ahead, on the train. oddly enough that was the cheapest and most reliable way to do it. wow. had it packed as cargo and had to fall back on trust (uuugggg). i convinced nisarga to go to bombay for a layover so to speak instead of straight to goa on the train. since i have to manage this transition i know i can get us from a to b to c on the bus. but the train and train stations... not one-legged friendly! so off we go on the overnight sleeper bus to bombay!
