A Coupla Bummers and A Miracle

Well, it was Thanksgiving in America, again.

A friend of mine calls it Shabbos Hodu.  (“Shabbos” is the Eastern European version of the Hebrew word “Shabbat,” or Sabbath).  “Hodu” is the Hebrew word for both “turkey (the bird)” and the imperative form of one of the many words for “to thank.”  Thus, “Shabbos Hodu!”

In Orthodox Judaism there is no “Thanksgiving Day,” because we formally give thanks to God at least six times a day, and sometimes more often.

The three daily prayers, which take up to an hour each, contain 19 paragraphs of blessing.  Each of these blessings opens and closes with a verse of thanks.  There is a separate blessing expressing thanks in general, and when there is a quorum of ten people, a special very beautiful paragraph is sung that describes the praises of the Angels.  There is a verse in every prayer beseeching the Creator to rebuild Jerusalem, our Holy City.

The other three “Thank you’s” are contained in the Blessing After Meals, said after any meal containing more than a certain amount of bread (the exact amount is part of Jewish Law), and a shorter version that is said after eating any non-bread product containing one of the five varieties of grain that grow in the Land of Israel: wheat, spelt, rye, oats, barley.  The long version takes me 45 minutes to say, because I say each word with concentration on its meaning.  I learned this from my teachers.

In these prayers also, the rebuilding of Jerusalem figures large.  Both sets of prayers were codified while the Hebrews were in exile in Babylon, after the Babylonian conquest had razed Jerusalem.

However, I no longer live in a Jewish community, let alone Israel; and to tell you the truth, I’m not really practicing Orthodox Judaism these days.

It was so wonderful living in our little country, being able to practice my religion in an unfettered way.  We could wear our special religious items–you know, the ones we are prohibited from bringing to the Temple Mount–right in the street, in the buses, anywhere, without people screaming epithets and other unpleasantries.

I once had a conversation with a black woman from New Orleans who had converted to Islam, married a Lebanese man, and moved with him to Saudi Arabia.  I met her in India.  She wanted to know why we Jews had to have our own country, when we could be Jewish anywhere in the world.

I was so taken aback by this question that I had to sit and think for a minute.  At last I got hold of my senses and asked her,

“Were you able to practice Islam in America?”

“Well, of course!”

“Then why did you move to Saudi Arabia?”

“Oh, because it’s an Islamic country!  Saudi Arabia enforces strict Shari’a Law, so it is the purest Islam…”

For a moment, understanding dawned in her eyes, but it faded just as quickly.  I developed something that needed my urgent attention, and left my friend wondering what went wrong.

Oh yes. I was talking about Thanksgiving in America.

Since I’m in America for the foreseeable future, I am doing some things American style, like Thanksgiving Day and gifts for Hannukah (our Festival of Lights, coming up next week).  In Israel, Hannukah is a time for celebrating miracles.  Gifts are not really a central theme.  It’s all about the light. ( More on that next week.)  The American practice of giving gifts on Hannukah seems to have arisen in order to keep Jewish children from being bummed out because of Christmas.

Since my son’s father is Christian, my son goes to him for Christmas.  For the past few years, my son and I have been “doing” Thanksgiving together.

While my father was alive, my son would come to my parents’ house and he and I would make a kosher turkey, and we would all get gorked on the usual T-day dishes.

Last year I was still in shock from my father’s death in early October, so my son and his then-girlfriend made a huge feast at his house.  People dropped by, roommates who had stayed in town for their own reasons cruised by and partook, we all smoked a lot of weed, and generally had a good time.  My mother was not invited, because she has made herself unwelcome by her delight in shaming me in front of my son.

This year my mother decided to fly to my cousins and have Thanksgiving with them.  I was not invited.  My cousins, who suck up to her for their own reasons, did not invite me either.  That being the case, I felt no pangs of guilt when I accepted my son’s invitation, party of one.

Then my mother decided to cancel her Thanksgiving plans, for her own reasons.  Since she knew my son had invited me (party of one), she got herself invited to one of her many friends, who has a big family, so my mom could feel really angry that her own family had not invited her.

For some reason my son did not invite anyone else to dinner.  His own reasons, I guess.  It was a little weird having just he and I, especially since he was in one of his dark moods, brooding and irritable.  I really wish he would start taking lithium again, but he angrily rejects the diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder that, in his opinion, was foisted upon him as a teenager.

So that was Thursday.

I slept in my camper van, in the parking lot of his apartment complex.  One of his neighbors, who had clearly been watching out for me, accosted me as I headed out to go to bed, demanding to know if I was visiting someone in the complex.  Surely he had seen me exiting my son’s door…

My nerves were already frazzled from dinner with my glowering son, so I fired back,

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I think you’re just camping here.”  Whoa, let’s just get some holiday spirit of giving on here, hey?

I wanted to say to him, “Listen, Mr. Nice Guy, even if I was ‘just camping here,’ there’s a whole fucking empty parking lot because everyone has gone elsewhere for the holiday.  And what are you angry at, anyway?”

But I didn’t say that, because there’s always the possibility that a poor unhappy fucker like that will call the police, and I was already tired and tense enough.  So instead I said,

“Well, I am camping here.  This (pointing to my camper) is my bedroom.  I’m visiting ____ in Apartment _____.  Would you like him to come out and speak with you?”

As it turns out, this unfortunate fellow has seen my son, who is a weight lifter and quite muscular and buff.  So the sorry sucker subsided, and allowed as how that would not be necessary.  I also subsided, went into my spaceship and slept fitfully, as people constantly came and went, car lights and porch lights flashing.  My PTSD surrounding cops blazed like a tiger in the night.

Friday.  I woke up feeling like shit.  Depression.  Again. Still.

Went in and stood under my son’s excellent shower for half an hour while he went to work for a while.

When he came back, I said, “Listen, I’m feeling really disorganized brain-wise.  Do you mind if I hang out till tomorrow?”

The minute the words left my mouth I saw the twitch in his face that said, Oh No, Not That!

“Um…listen, Mom, to be honest, um, I really need my space.”

My heart hit the pavement.  Then I noticed the spiffy outfit.


Yeah, I was glad he was able to tell me no, but on the other hand I wished he had seen fit to be honest and say something more like, “Oh wow, Mom, I really wish you could, but since I thought you were leaving today, I made plans.”  That would have sent me off with a smile and a lighter heart.

“Oh, that’s OK,” I chirped, suddenly feeling like I’d been handed the bum rush.*

He graciously allowed me to stay long enough to use his internet to find a campground.  I found one pretty close by, said my goodbyes, and lit a shuck out of there.**


I called my mother today, just to see how she is doing, and I wish I had put money on the bet that I made with myself.  I would have won.  She barely spoke to me, and clearly had her victim act all planned out, in case I called.  I laughed.  Couldn’t help myself: it was all too predictable.

Now for the Miracle part.

My sweet Belgian Malinois, Atina, is most certainly an angel.

She sleeps in the right-hand third of my bed.  The left-hand third is reserved for all the computer-related shit that won’t fit anywhere else.

The only thing I had the energy to make for dinner was a cup of gluten-free microwave macaroni and cheese.  While I was mechanically going through the motions of making it, Atina was busy doing something in the bed.

She was pushing my duvet into a nest-like shape toward the pillow.  No, wait.  She was pushing it with her nose, straightening the edge up toward the pillow.  I thought, you cutie, you are making yourself a nest out of my duvet, and you know that’s my spot in the bed!  But I did not scold her.  My heart was brimming with love.  She pushed and pulled at my pillow, fluffing it and making it into a nice continuum with my duvet.  Aha, I thought, now I will see you plump yourself down in my spot!

But that’s not what she was about at all.

When she got my part of the bed all fixed up to her satisfaction, she plopped herself down–on her side of the bed!  She had made my bed up–for me!

I dropped what I was doing and hugged and kissed her for a long time.  By the way she reacted, she knew that I knew what she had done for me…she made a place for me to rest.  She did it with love and care.  As I write this, I am lying in the bed my dog prepared for me.  Her breathing is soft and even as she sleeps in her own third of the bed.

“Friends may come and friends may go, but your dog will always be glad to see you.”


*”The bum rush”: A term dating from the Great Depression and possibly earlier, when many out-of-work men went “on the bum,” going from door to door begging for food, money, a place to sleep…if the man of the house took offense, the beggar would be chased off the place–“given the bum rush.”

**”To light a shuck” means “to leave in a hurry.”  It has its origin in the  Civil War, when dried corn shucks were used as fuses for light cannons and field artillery.  Once you “lit a shuck,” you had to run like hell because not only did the big guns recoil (and could run you over), but also sometimes the cannons would backfire, shooting cannon balls behind instead of in front of them.  The idiom is still in use in the Southern and Southwestern United States.  It is one of my favorites.



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  1. My Thanksgiving bummer came from my local squirrel, who I haven’t seen in awhile. I took him some nut roll, but someone had filled in the hole he travels through… And I’ve been bribing him for weeks… Looks like I lost a potential friend. 😦

    My Thanksgiving miracle came from my neighbor, who gave me some leftover turkey and stuffing. I can’t remember the last time I had turkey and stuffing… I heated it up, stuffed it into a couple flour tortillas (with mayo, of course), and went to town. 🙂

    I didn’t hear from my son on Thanksgiving, but that’s not surprising. Thank goodness for dogs. 😀

    • I’m really sorry you didn’t hear from your son. And it’s terrible that your poor squirrel’s home got trashed! I hope the little critter was able escape. They usually have a back door 😀

      Hey, what about that turkey and stuffing burrito! I freakin’ love New Mexican food. Did you have any cranberry sauce?? I make killer cranberry sauce. Mayo, yeah, gotta have the mayo with turkey….

      I find it utterly unfair that I’m gluten intolerant and can’t eat flour tortillas any more. Tortillas de mais, yes! I think I told you, I was stuck near Capitan for about two months last summer, and there is this Apache/NM restaurant in Beautiful Downtown Capitan–actually, I like Capitan, except I can do without all the Smokey Bear and Billy The Kid tourist junk–anyway, I ate at this restaurant every chance I got. So everybody who worked there knew I could only eat corn tortillas, and after I while I didn’t even have to ask.

      I’ll be back in NM probly this spring! This winter I’m gonna hang out in AZ, where I don’t have to worry about my water tanks freezing up. But I am seriously missing posole and chicos and things of that nature. I have not been back to Chimayo since 1987, I think. I hate to imagine what kind of tourist trap it might have become! There used to be this kind of diner where they served the best chile verde on the planet….

      You take care of yourself. OK?

  2. Laura, love your Thanksgiving miracle. Atina is the best! Honestly, dogs are better than people! The two bummers prove it! Sorry, your Thanksgiving was a day of non- giving. Interesting to always learn more about Jewish practices. Know my grandparents were Jewish, non-practicing. But never learned anything more. Thanks! Chryssa

    • Hi Chryssa! Were your Jewish grandparents on your mother’s side, or your father’s? If your mother’s mother was Jewish, guess what???

      Yes, my little doggie baby loves me and takes good care of me. We love and care for each other!

      • On my father’s side. Grandfather came to the US from Germany as an adult. Think they were hiding that they were Jewish, and never practiced their religion. Chryssa

        • A lot of Jews have had to either go underground in order to survive, or as my paternal grandparents did, remained ethnically Jewish but became Communist labor activists in the International Workers of the World movement. My grandmother was a founding member of the International Ladies’ Garment Workers Union. She was a wonderful woman. I’m putting together a post about her.

          • What our grandparents experienced in their lives and how they survived helps us make it through our own setbacks. It’s all in their stories. We are part of a bigger family than just our immediate one. Look forward to reading about your grandmother! Chryssa

  3. Awww, Atina knows exactly how to make her mama happy. What a wonderful girl 🙂

  4. Cranberry sauce? Gross. And while I love Mexican food, New Mexican food is just not the same. I guess I love Tex-Mex. (Somebody mail me some Ninfa’s!) 🙂

    You’re very talkative today… Is that bipolar or are you just happy to see me? 😀

    • Cranberry sauce gross??? You haven’t had mine, obviously. What is a Ninfa? Is it something like a Ninja?

      Bipolar depression, ultradian cycling…trying to stave off suicide…the usual.

  5. your story where Atina made a bed for you brought tears to my eyes (that are constantly struggling not to cry) and made me cry…but not for hopelessness (this time), for the one thing that constantly loves me no matter what, my good girl, Chou. As I write she lays her top 1/3 over my feet in between the coffee table leg and the couch. She helps me have fewer moments where I am falling, where it is too late for anything. i hope she has a good bite…i’ve been struggling moment to moment, hanging by my fingertips, not knowing if I can stop the inevitable fall.

    • Oh…you are describing how I feel, pretty much all the time, lately. I honestly don’t know how long I can take this constant unbearable pain. Atina has terminal kidney failure, only less than 10% of kidney function left, so only months to a year or maybe two. I have resolved to hang on until she goes, as I will not abandon her. After that, I don’t know. Prayers to us both, for feeling better, even though I don’t really know what that feels like, but I would certainly like to, as that would change everything. And for you also, dear Kat. Love to Chou, your personal angel…her mission is to help you, and she does, all the time. Take care…if you need to talk, let me know…I’m good at listening. And I don’t give advice (except to soak up the love your dog offers so selflessly! We both do that, I know…)

  6. Dear Laura,

    I am happy that Atina is there for you. I am happy that we Indians maintain a facade which may become unbearable at times but that atleast does not hurt people that too a mother.

    I am sorry I could not help being judgmental. In rural India we still have people who go all the way for strangers.

    I wish the world becomes as giving like dogs..

    • Hi Ashu, I didn’t quite understand what you said here: “that atleast does not hurt people that too a mother.” Can you please clarify? Yes, when I visited India, I found that people were incredibly open and giving, and incredibly grateful when given something, also. I will never forget walking through downtown Coonoor, a woman of who knows what age sitting on the street mere inches away from the open sewer, sitting among the diseased street dogs. I think she had leprosy. She was holding out her hand, so I gave her a few rupees…she grasped my hand and blessed me fervently in Tamil, which I only understood a little but enough to know that she was blessing me and my family and who knows what. I will never forget that. I know for the little bit I gave her, she ate that day. I was a street beggar once myself, so I know the relief and gladness that comes with knowing that today, at least, I will not be hungry. Even the dog that took a chunk out of my leg in a village above Coonoor, I was told, took away some bad karma! So that was also a gift. But I do prefer the gifts of love that one can perceive in this life…I wish people would be as open and loving as my dog.

      Yes, the facade….I have heard of young Indian wives setting themselves on fire because they could not keep up the facade any longer, especially with the mother-in-law…is this true?

  7. Sorry to hear of your continued and long-standing painful family dysfunction. Glad you spent Thanksgiving with your son, even as he denies his illness. Though I, too, have family dysfunction to deal with – namely a family history of alcoholism, alcohol-related dementia, bipolar disorder and social anxiety – somehow we manage to love one another, even if doing so can be painful. Painful to watch my father destroy his brain with alcohol, just as it is painful to see my mother struggle with her front left lobe stroke, but my mother works hard to improve and heal her brain, my father does not. Signing the contract for memory care today. Time for my sister and me to get back to our children and husbands. We have our own headaches and stressors to cope with in our nuclear families.

  8. Midwestern Plant Girl

     /  November 30, 2015

    I feel that something as simple as watching our 4 pawed friends making beds for themselves, takes away a bunch of anxiety and pain.
    Safe travels, my friend! !

    • Thank you, Ilex! Even better when they’re making beds for US! Today I made a bed for her, and even though she no longer uses her OWN bed (having moved into mine), she watched appreciatively and gave me a “Malligator hug” which is quite something. Malinois are built to fight with all four legs plus their fearsome jaws, wrapping their target in teeth and claws, taking them down and holding them until released by their handler. Imagine being enveloped in all five of these weapons, in a gentle yet, well, slightly terrifying embrace! I call it being Mallinated.

      • Midwestern Plant Girl

         /  November 30, 2015

        I would thoroughly enjoy being mallinated! How fun does that sound? ! I think you should hire out this service. Come one! Come all! Get MALLINATED!
        I know she’s a companion dog, but does her breed work for therapy dogs? I’d think so. At least it sounds like therapy to me. Oreo and I spoon when we go to bed. I love the smell of his head. He likes to sniff my eyes. Very weird dog…. very weird owner also!

        • LOL ’nuff said! You are quite likely to get mallinated, I think. As long as I keep her dew claws cut and filed, it’s fairly safe. The dew claws are used to climb and draw things close…like large chunks of bleeding flesh…the Malinois has hands instead of paws, so it’s always good to stay on their good side (although I did get right down to it with her today. I spoiled her too much after her recent surgery and she got too uppity. An uppity Malligator is a bad thing.) But now we’re back on an even keel…

  9. Atina definitely is an angel. She’s keeping a good look out for you, that’s for sure.

  10. Awww Atina!! ♥♥♥

    • Ain’t she the sweet one???

      • Hello Laura,
        What I meant was that we Indians are used to maintain a facade. We have to entertain guests, relatives friends and parents even if we have problems. When we all know that we have to be together then certainly all have to put in efforts so that staying together is easier. Certainly a woman has to adjust more as she has to go and stay with her inlaws in their house. In extreme cases they feel its better to end their lives than bear the trauma of being abandoned by husbands. This mostly happens when the females are not highly educated to maintain themselves financially and the caste is too orthodox. Because of the caste system in India, things cannot be generalized. You will have women staying in live ins which is socially not acceptable and at the same time women killing themselves rather than leaving their husbands.

        Though it has its own negative points, I feel that keeps our family and social life going. We know that parents and children are there for each other.

        I thought that your son had he been an Indian, would have maintained that facade even if in his heart he did not want you to be there or had some other plans. There was once an American blogger who kept his 90 year old Alzheimer suffering father with him and maintained that no matter what he would never send his father to old age home. I realize that he was quite different.

        • Hi Ashu,

          I do understand the vastly different cultural context of life in a traditional society like yours. I am part of one, but I lead two lives, you see.

          If my mother had not been abusing my severely disabled father, I would have sold everything but his bed and one chair to keep him at home. As it turned out, he was much safer and better cared for in the nursing home. I was able to spend more quality time with him because my mother was free to go about her business. I am and will always be incredibly grateful that I had the gift of spending his last night on Earth alone with him.

          Cultural differences are often hard to understand, because they are contextual and in your case, rooted in thousands of years of tradition and law.

          Orthodox Judaism also. Our Torah Law is about as old as your Vedic Law, so we are on a parallel course, as I found to be true while in India. Did you know that we also have a caste system? We only have three castes, but they are upheld in Orthodox communities. Mine is the caste of Levi, the musicians and teachers. What’s yours?

          • Thanks for the detailed comment. I did not know about castes in Jews though even the religion founded for the purpose of equality have got caste systems and divisions. Man does not rise above his ego it seems. Our caste system is more complicated because we have linguistic divisions also, so a Brahmin in South India is different than a Brahmin in North India. Extremely complicated…I am a Brahmin though I come from a family which is cosmopolitan and has members from other castes also.

            I understand the cultural differences between different countries and I appreciate that we are learning good things from them. It includes allowing females to work , allowing them to choose partners, girls remaining unmarried and lot of other modernization. What we would like to retain is the strong family bonds. A child not feel alone till his parents or siblings are alive and a parent should not feel alone when his children are there. Apart from that all freedom and liberties are appreciated.

            Regarding your family (father and mother), I have read your blogs and the relationship you shared with both of them.

            Doesn’t your mom believe in God and afterlife?

            • My mother is a narcissist. A person with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. She is not able to “step into someone else’s shoes.” She has great compassion for animals, but none for people. Even last night she invited people to dinner and didn’t make enough food. The guests left hungry, but she thought they should have been satisfied with the little they got. That would never have happened when my father was alive!!!

              In traditional Jewish families that family and generation bond is very strong. My parents chose to leave the community when my father went to University, and then got jobs far away. So that bond was broken. It’s interesting to see how the rest of the family mostly stayed together, although in America it’s rare to find multiple generations living under one roof. More and more though, married children are building onto their houses to accommodate parents who can no longer live independently. In Israel there is a government program that provides a “foreign worker” nurse, from the Philippines, Africa, India, or Nepal, who lives with the family and helps care for the elderly person, while earning a good wage so they can help their own family get ahead. I have a friend from the Philippines who also helped me with my housework, who sent four daughters through nursing school with the money she earned as a helper in Israel.

              In the U.S., not so, and everyone has to go to work or school, so the care of the elderly largely falls to in-home caregivers or nursing homes. I kind of doubt that you have nursing homes in India, because it clashes so with the cultural values. Is there such a thing, where elders are sent to care homes and receive basic things like a bed, food, medicine, care of physical needs? It’s pretty grim. My mother

              • Nice to know about the caretaking program in Israel. In India there are Old Age Homes called Ashrams coz they are mostly run by religious trusts not by government, where in minimum money an old person can survive as there is food, shelter, nursing care provided. Staying there becomes a matter of self pity for the parents and a matter of shame for children. Absolutely rascals send their parents to Old Age Homes coz here parents do not drive their children out at the age of 18, they fund their education, marriage , grandchildren and look after their grand kids too. So the start makes the whole difference.

                In rural India, it is not uncommon to see people taking care of some old aunt, uncle in the family as the latter had no children. This is the reason there is so much focus on a male child as its his duty to take care of parents till the end. Though now with financially independence ,females are also doing these duties.

                Only the Parsi community in India chooses to live in an Old Age Home. They have v modern facilities where they can stay after they are unable to live alone. It is because Parsis as a community was close to Britishers and they have been staying unmarried and single from a long time.

            • Will go to a nursing home when she can no longer care for herself, because she has done nothing but abuse me, and I will not stand for that. Moreover, she abused my father when he became unable to care for himself. Moreover, I am ill myself, and Jewish law is very strict about not causing harm to one’s self. Jewish law prescribes that one must provide the necessities of life to one’s parents, but this may be delegated to someone else like a servant or a care home.

              Does she believe in God? From what I’ve observed, she says she does, but I haven’t seen any God-fearing behavior.

              Interesting that there is now inter-caste marriage in Brahmin families. 50 or even 20 years ago that would not have happened. Still in the Orthodox Brahmins (there are a lot of Indian doctors in the U.S.!) that I know, all have arranged marriages, even their kids in the U.S. also see the benefit of the arranged marriage and they go for it. Orthodox Jews also go for arranged marriage, although usually (but not always) they can reject a marriage if they really don’t like the proposed mate. In the majority of cases it works, because what matters in a marriage is the character of the mate, not the first blush of sexual attraction, which is what “love match” is usually about…That usually doesn’t last, and then one discovers that one is married to a stranger. It does seem paradoxical, but if you think about it, isn’t it better to have your family who knows and loves you choose someone who will be a solid help and support to you, whom you will grow to love because he is a wonderful person, instead of some hot babe who will turn out to be a useless pig? Anyway. I have gone on and on here, but truly you do touch and inspire me, Ashu, with your insights and questions. I do hope we someday can sit down to tea together. I like jaggery in mine😉

  11. I have absolutely no idea what to say … so I’ll just send you a hug. Make it two … it sounds like you probably need it.
    Let me know if you need more.

  12. Dear Laura,
    I also appreciate a lot of patience in answering my questions. I was v interested in Jews as I was a History student. I have read almost all the novels by Leon Uris who has described the Jewish life and challenges of Israel and how they overcame them.

    Jaggery in Tea is a South Indian trend, I am surprised you liked it. A tea together will be a pleasure. I have another blogger friend in Chennai (the city is badly wounded by the recent floods, limping now to normalcy) and I was thinking of telling her about Dr Sundar, your Guru as she will be pleased to meet him.

    Sometimes it shames me ( not the so called secular Indians specially Hindus) that we make fun of our traditions and wisdom and more and more foreigners accept them so graciously. Steve Jobs of Apple made Neem Karoli Baba famous in India.

    We need some lessons in developing our self esteem.

    Thanks Laura once again that you take my inquisitiveness on its facevalue. Some people take it as an intrusion……

    God bless you and I pray that you are healthy enough to be in this independent spirit always……..

    • That’s sad that there is that kind of rift. Among Jews also. One of the most intense pains of my life was when I was practicing openly and my mother mocked my prayers and turned the TV up so I couldn’t hear my rituals.

      Are you kidding, I love jaggery!!!

      Dr. Sunder is from Chennai, I will have to write and ask of everyone’s OK. His parents etc.

      He graduated medical school the day of the tsunami, and was on the beach with friends having beers, and they decided to go do something else. And then the water came up and washed away the beach where they had been.

      I think it’s very cool that you are so interested in things Jewish. Dr. Sundar and I have a theory that we (Brahmins) and Hebrews are related through Abraham. I can explain more, but in regular email. It would just confuse most people who haven’t studied/are not interested. Be well and take care!

      • Dr T Sunder – Cardio Thoraccic are you talking about him? I told my friend who stays in Chennai and she asked me to inquire this from you. She is a spiritually inclined lady and would love to meet him. Where can he be contacted?

        • No, Dr. Sundar Raman. Coonoor. He does have a Facebook page but I don’t ever look at Facebook. He and his wife have a clinic just outside of Coonoor. He is strictly Ayurveda. I don’t know whether he is accepting new students at this time, but if this lady wants a consultation for Ayurvedic diagnosis and treatment I would be happy to forward her details to his clinic and they will contact her. He attended medical school in Chennai but his clinic is in Coonoor.


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