Those were the days when a child had to take small pox shots and invariably one would fall sick with high fever. The poke would create deep wound. Many old timers would show you small pox scars with relevant pride of having survived.
I have three on my left arm and my mother tells me that it was an unusually hot August and my wound had flared up. The Humerus bone was exposed. Lesser gods had given me up. There was a Dr Mehta in my Nana’s village my savior. Ma has a different take though; of course there was this doctor and some sweet homeopathy pills but I was saved by goddess Kali the supreme local deity.
Recently I e-mailed a paragraph on faith to a friend I should have added about Ma‘s faith in the goddess in saving her first born.
There is Science and Humanities in life. I reckon science is only the means while the arts make the “ends”. The ends make the rights &wrongs - good and evil. The means have changed in the last few decades the ends haven’t that is happiness.
The trust, the faith of Ma in the goddess remains.
While I gloat in the sea of science with little humanities.