This happened the day after the events which became the last story.

In a way, I was still preoccupied with the previous evening. Did the man sleep well? Did the injection we gave him cause any unpleasant side effects, I worried.

The next morning, we had arranged a meeting for the Wayanad volunteers. The hall for the meeting was on the top floor of a modest hotel, by the side of the main road. Behind, through the windows, you could see the mountains and on the mountainside, the prehistoric caves with rock carvings which attract a lot of visitors.

Across the road, while we were waiting for the volunteers to arrive, I could see two jacaranda trees in blossom. What are they called locally, I asked one of the volun...

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I have been meaning to start blogging again. Friends have begun to ask about the silence (well, at least one did).

There is so much to write after what has turned out to be a long hiatus.

I cannot believe that anyone would be interested in my ramblings about life in Kerala, how the hot weather has set in early this year and my preoccupation with the monsoons (now only two and a half months away). Instead, I thought I would write about what we are up to in Mehac, how life is in the second year of our work, our small successes, the stability we have achieved and so on. But when I sit down to write this, at the end of a truncated weekend at home, only 2 stories fill my mind and 2 faces haunt me.

Both are from Wayanad.

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We saw our first patient in the first Mehac community clinic on the 3rd of December 2008. I had, until then, never worked in Kerala and never outside the security of a large institution anywhere. The previous week, I had met up with the team of volunteers and explained what we aimed to do. There was apprehension in their minds, reflected in questions about possible violence from patients. There was just that smidgeon of trepidation in my mind also.

All doubts vanished for both sides in the first few days. I remember two defining moments during the initial weeks, which helped put my mind at ease. The first was when an eloquent patient explained why he thought that perhaps his childhood trauma was important in understanding his current predicament. I remember thinking that perhaps communication difficulties that I had feared were not...

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Thanks, everyone.

It is a year today since the first clinic started functioning under Mehac. On this day, we would like to thank everyone who has supported us and offered encouragement.

Help has been in different ways, each gesture is appreciated wholeheartedly.

Thanks to each clinic for all the hard work.

Thanks to Institute of Palliative Medicine and its team.

Thanks to all friends everywhere, especially the team in UK.

Thanks, Suneesh and Nawaz for ge...

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One of the oldest links in popular mind is between mental illness and violence. Most groups that I interact with ask questions about the violence that they imagine they might encounter when dealing with mentally ill people. The more pernicious belief is that violence against the mentally ill is justified in some way. Usually it is men who seem to hold this belief. During a recent training session, a man with a military background rose to his feet to say that, in his opinion, violence works. He described how he had once effectively used violence to settle a disturbed man.

How has violence against the mentally ill come to be easily accepted?

In one of our community clinics, on the first clinic day, a tribal woman came, accompanied by her son. In her sixties, she was well known in the village. For decades, people had become familiar to the site of this 'mad woman' roaming the main street. She would brandish a stick at...

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There is a different sort of enthusiasm when one works or spends time with the young. Their enthusiasm rubs itself on you, makes you feel alive. Our team also has grown in number in the last few months. Four young persons have joined us in our efforts. I am secretly proud that they are enterprising young women.

The Vazhakkad clinic in Malappuram district which the Mehac team visits on Thursdays is somewhat different to other clinics. The most striking point is that most of the volunteers / nurse are young people. The crux of the matter, I suppose, is that children and youngsters are a treat to be with. At least, that is how it is for me.

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It is the home visits that we do that remind us of the extent of damage that mental illnesses cause in families.

Today, we returned to one of the homes we had visited a few weeks ago. There are several common aspects to the houses that we get to visit. They are mostly landlocked in the sense that you have to walk through adjoining properties to get there; there do not seem to be a path, let alone a road, to reach the houses. The houses are small, seemingly built by the same architect, a veranda at the front leading to a hall from which 1 or 2 small rooms open and the kitchen at the back. There are usually only women at home; even if there are men, they are absent, sometimes in more than one sense. Cats seem to have free access.

It was raining heavily earlier in the day (by the way, we are into the 4th month of the monsoons; it has been worth the long wait, the heat of the summer is a distant memory)...

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We, members of the Mehac team, go every Friday to Wayanad.  One could call it a routine because of the regularity of the exercise. But a trip to Wayanad can never be routine. It is always fascinating. To start with you have the amazing spectacles that the exceptional nature offers you on the mountain track. At the same time, you also have the stomach – churning climb up the winding roads on the hills.   Thoughts of the very climb to Kalpetta always bring a sense of apprehension in me while zipping across the busy town of Calicut to the foothills. It is a regular phenomenon that my stomach lurches forward and I am left with a queasy feeling till afternoon. As we go through the climb few of our team members are successful in losing themselves in a deep slumber. I have never been successful at that. But then I try to drown myself in the shows offered by the bountiful nature that envelops us on this journey.

Nature...

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It was the Eid today, Monday, a day later than when most people anticipated it to be. It meant an extra day of fasting but an extra holiday too. On Sunday, I rang our Monday clinics to check if they wanted to cancel and they said no, they and the patients will be there. When I arrived, special prayers were going on in the mosque in front of the morning clinic and the collection box for the palliative care clinic was just being taken to the mosque (it later came back full!). The patients were there and so were the volunteers.

The last patient we saw today was the 301st since Mehac started its first clinic in November last year. We have started, on an average, a new clinic every month bringing the total to 12 this month. 85% of the whole group is taken on for long term care. It is possible that many of the patients we are seeing now will still be under Mehac’s care when I am long gone.

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Most of the Mehac clinics are in places where it is hard not to notice that we are in the holy month of Ramadan. All the Muslims I come across, barring some of the patients, are fasting from day break to sunset. Days are counted off as ‘this is the 26th fast; 3 or 4 more to go’. This week, the excitement of the approaching festival is beginning to show. The countdown to Eid has begun.

In small towns across North Kerala, the scenes are similar. By evening, roadside bazaars come alive, selling clothes, food, and assorted stuff. Some items are new to me such as jars of pickled guava fruit. Shops are open at night and do brisk business. Most restaurants close during the day and open only in the evening. This poses a problem for our various clinics who can’t get their regular supplies of coffee and tea for those of us not fasting. Patients who are unable to fast are despondent. We convert the dosages of medicines to ...

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Here, in Kerala, the summer is nearly at an end. We define the end of summer by the arrival of the monsoon, while in many other parts of the Northern hemisphere, summer is just getting into full swing. Looking back, it feels as if the summer was all too brief. In February, I was girding up for the summer – my first one in India after 15 years – with trepidation. I imagined endless bright days and blue skies under a scorching sun but the reality was different. Like everything else in India, the summers too seem to have changed. Some people did say that this summer was hotter than the last but I suspect it was not. Just before the first monsoon showers, the well at home did run dry but not for too long. In general, water shortages have not really happened.

The rains continue to fascinate. The first summer rains were followed by erratic showers and the occasional cloudy day which ensured that that the summer heat...

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It rained today. This is the second time this summer that it has rained. Here, we are all unanimous that summer has had an early start this year. From early March it has been sweltering.

A brisk wind started blowing around sunset – the usual glory of the sunset was dulled, as the sun dipped under the evening horizon clouds early. The northerly wind seemed to blow the clouds out to sea, dark clouds which had seemed to appear out of nowhere. Nearby tin roofs rattled and a metal sign clattered on the street below. As the sky began to clear and I was beginning to lose hope of it ever raining, lightning struck and the first spell of rain came down, lasting all of three and a half minutes. I know, because I timed it. Then it rained again, this time substantially.

Summer rains give us hope. Hope that the electricity-generating reservoirs will be replenished, hope that harvest will be good and a promise tha...

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