Minakshi and Vishalagi at Washington DC

Stepping into
the Medicinal Plants section of Washington
Botanical garden, I was
taken by a pleasant surprise. A huge life size photograph of two women, clad in
traditional attire of Sari and Mundu; squeezing the sap out of some herbal
concoction. More than the Ayurveda connection, it delighted me to see two
typical neighbourhood women right in the middle of Washington
DC, just a few minutes away from the White
House and Senate Building. They looked every bit women
next door, on the roads, in the bus, at the local market. 
Looking around,
I saw many visitors eagerly observe the picture and read the descriptor below.
Swelling with pride, I wanted to shout to the thronging masses that the picture
represented the legacy of Kerala, my State. And that the picture was just a
sneak peak into the vast possibilities of Ayurveda; so on and so forth. Even
while showcasing a primeval form of treatment – squeezing the juice out of some
wild herbs, the ordinary women in the picture were making a few facts straight
for me. America
acknowledges the pioneering role that Kerala plays in the administration of
medicinal herbs. This meant that it also recognizes the science of Ayurveda.

Not that one
needed to see this picture to underline the significance that Ayurveda has
gained in the realm of holistic cure. Statistics lends credibility to the fact
that Kerala is indeed at the global centre stage of Ayurveda cure; just like
the picture taking centre stage in Washington
DC. At an institutional level,
much has to be done to reassert and retain the purity of this science which has
been corrupted by several me-too players trying to duplicate the efficacy of
this stream of medicine. However, it goes without saying that it’s best to
leave the dynamics of this legacy to be managed by the concerned government
bodies.

 While it’s up to
the government machinery to review policies and bring about guidelines to
streamline and legitimatize the Ayurveda practice in the State, as a Non Resident
Keralite living in the US, the above picture and the medicinal plants’ showcase
at the Botanical garden triggered a silent revolution in my mind – to learn
more about medicinal plants and to encourage my friends and families back home
to get back to medicinal herb gardening.

 After a few
minutes of staring at the photograph, I walked across the narrow boulevards in
the medicinal herbs section. Believe me, it felt like walking on a familiar
village pathway back home. Even with limited knowledge of medicinal plants, I
was delighted to observe that a vast majority of them could be traced back to
the flora of our State. Very many little shrubs, creeping vines, branched out
plants, and tall trees reminded me of life in Kerala. I noticed that some of
the plants showcased were commonly perceived as weeds. Some others only adorned
our frontyard gardens. Yet some others were part of our ancestral homes and
sadly haven’t made it to the modern day home gardens. Needless to say, our
authentic Ayurvedic practitioners would know all of them by their name and
would know what use to put them to.

 A big pot
nurtured a sizeable ‘Gandharaajan’ plant (Gardenia Gummifera). Underneath was
written the antiseptic properties of this plant. It took me to my childhood
days when there were a few very old plants in the frontyard of my parents’
house. Gandharaajan instantly reminded me of another similar flowering plant
called ‘Nandyarvettom’ which was used extensively to treat eye conjunctivitis
and for cooling the eyes. I remember, when it was in full bloom, it left no
stone unturned. Early mornings, with its soothing, calming fragrance permeating
the whole compound, stepping into the garden was as blissful as aromatherapy.
 At the end of a
walkway, I noticed a thick bush from which familiar serrated leaves jutted out,
crying for my attention. I shouted saying ‘Communist Pacha!’and instantly went
back in time – yet another trip to days of childhood when for bruises we
quickly crushed a few leaves and applied its juice, leaving the cure to Nature.
And quite interestingly, this was done often, as a matter of habit, making no
fuss about the umpteen falls and the resultant injuries.
Hibiscus,
Ashokachethi and little formations of Mukutti, Jasmine, Thulasi, a coconut tree
bearing bunches of the fruit, a cocoa tree with big cocoa fruits- these were
just a few of the plant/ tree delights that welcomed me at every little turn
that I took at the botanical garden. Visitors seemed to be in a
state of awe reading the medicinal properties of some of the herbs. Many people
clicked away pictures of the medicinal flowers as if it were a magic formula
for good health.  It seemed like I was back
home, treading some village pathway or walking in my backyard where weeds and
plants co-existed.

 As someone who
lived in Kerala all these years, not a day passed by without encountering at
least a few of these medicinal marvels. I pitied myself not to have used them
when they were well within reach. Here, Doctors who practise modern medicine
refrain from prescribing medicines for common ailments. Many a time for a
common cold or a stomach ailment, especially for children, I have wished for
some of the green concoctions that my mother or mother in law made for the
family, which I then snubbed with nonchalance. Medicinal herbs was for sure
overlooked, but, today I really miss the many varieties of Thulasi and the lush
formations of ‘panikoorkka’ leaves that spread to every nook and corner of the
garden coming in handy for everyday ailments.

 The whole world
sings praises to Ayurveda, to our rich legacy. We know for a fact that millions
of varieties of medicinal herbs thrive in our tropical climate, in a variety of
our soils, in brackish backwaters and even in jute bags kept in balconies of
zealous Malayalees. Going back to our good old ways of backyard herbal gardens
must then, be easy. The will to tap the potential of at least some of our
medicinal herbs will then possibly unleash the next revolution. Eyes closed,
with that parting thought, I stood under the yellow Chembakam tree in full
bloom then; trying to take in as much as I could before I stepped out into the
streets of Washington DC.

First published in Vibrant Keralam, a public diplomacy magazine.