On a clear summer morning it appeared as if from nowhere,
A tiny globule-like blister shining on the right side of her nose.
No one suspected anything–
An antiseptic cream was applied.
By evening, there was one more on her left-hand thumb,
Now it caused some anxiety.
She was persuaded to remain indoors.
Mangoes were ordered out of the house.
The next day, there were seven of them on her chest and abdomen,
Too much heat I thought and took her to the doctor.
He diagnosed them right away as
Chickenpox and ordered quarantine.
On the third day, my god,
The blisters were there all over her body
They covered her from head to toe–
Not even her tongue and the soles of her feet were spared.
The temperature wouldn’t come down from 104º.
She couldn’t lay on her back or on her abdomen or sideways,
The tiny fragile body was burning as though it was in an oven,
She twisted herself all day like a worm in the hot sun.
Fanning with neem leaves only increased her irritation
Not a place in her tiny body free of the blisters,
Where can I put my arms to hold her?
Her incessant groans would melt even a rock.
After 36 hours, the temperature came down to 102º
The house was jubilant as though she had just been born.
The fifth day brought some smile on her face,
And she slept peacefully after the long hours of agony.
How long would it take for blisters to dry up thoroughly?
Would her silky face become spotless as before?
What did a three-year old do to undergo this hell
God, please don’t pick on my children when I am there for your experiments.
Jayanthi Chandrasekaran is a teacher and freelance writer.
Featured image credit: Liane Metzler/Unsplash