Did you know India is the diabetic capital of the world? Fifty million people suffer from type 2 diabetes. It is impossible to find a single Indian who either does not have diabetes herself or does not have a family member on medication for the malady. My paternal grandfather, for instance, was diabetic, not requiring insulin and medication, but intense food control. He was an extremely disciplined man, ate like a chicken, and lived to 95, with forty years of diabetes under his belt. My in-law uncle is diabetic and makes my daughter inject him with insulin when we meet. My best friend’s husband is diabetic. My younger cousin is borderline diabetic, and manages her condition with an active lifestyle. Two of my aunts are diabetic and on medication. And mine is a representative south Indian extended family.
Do you wonder why we (especially in the Tamil Nadu area) are so diabetic prone? Here is the answer:
Once a year, we celebrate the flow of the life force rivers, especially Kaveri, into our agricultural belt (she is bone dry this year thanks to our monsoon failure and the political failure of our state to fight for water from the neighbouring state in which the river originates..but that is matter for a stroke, so I will tread lightly), by ingesting industrial levels of carbohydrates in the form of variously flavored rice. Once lunch is done, the entire state would fall into carb-coma from which if we are lucky, and have a lot of good karma in our kitty, we may emerge this year with a non-dangerous spike in blood sugar levels. So, if you don’t hear from me tomorrow, I am still sleeping off the calories consumed today.
On another note, brag time. My kid started writing poetry when she was four. She doesn’t write poetry as often as I like her to. But when she does, the poetry is fairly smart, for her age. Her recent is this, she apparently wrote it in class when she was bored. May she be bored more often !
A ship sailed across the brook
With sailors, passengers and cook
As well as a lantern and a book
And a gleaming silver hook
The ship’s captain then cried
“Alas, alack, our cook has died!”
The passengers were shocked and tried
To help, but a pirate ship was spied
The pirates jumped on board and wept
“Our ever so noble captain has slept
and won’t wake up, look, there he’s kept!
At waking sea captains, are you adept?”
Their fortune sunk lower for ’twas then that they found
The brook was too large and their ship too round
They had been dreaming; they were on ground
Rudely awakened by a loud sound