For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given

Its been a great year for babies! 2 days before 2010 scoots out the door we have been blessed with another one!

We being Anil and Sandhya Sainani - and their lovely boy who was born at Lok Hospital earlier this evening.
Proud Papa Anil welcomed us as the Eichers trooped into the room at 10.15 PM! There are advantages of being on staff - you don't have to stick to the visiting hours.

Happy Mama Sandhya has been at it for most of the night - and all day - when her doctor decided to take her in for the C-section.

Amazingly - Sandhya - who is our longest serving nurse at Jeevan Sahara Kendra - was working at JSK till the day before she gave birth! The previous day she had counselled an HIV positive family of 3 before they did a reconfirmatory HIV test. And then that night she started getting pains!

The other remarkable thing is that one of Sandhya's sisters - who has come out to help her - arrived today from Orissa. Along with her sister came their widower Father - and he had booked his tickets to go back to Orissa the very next day! With the littlest one arriving in the Sainani family just a few hours after his Auntie and Grandpa arrived from Orissa - it means that Grandpa Aind can go back having seen his newest grandson!

The upshot of it all is that we are blessed with another amazing little life. How good God is to give us hope in the middle of so much hopelessness! To see those little fingers starting to clasp and unclasp. To see the small delicate eyes - closed in sleep - as the little fellow spends his first night 'on his own' outside mama - using lungs that have till now not been used. What a miracle each little baby is!

We have been praying for this child ever since we found out that he was on his way.

Anil and Sandhya are planning to call their little man 'Abishek' - anointed one. Its a fitting name for a baby who we pray will grow up to be like king David - a man after God's own heart.

Our congratulations to the happy parents. God is good and continues to do His work in all our lives. Its been a privilege to be part of Anil and Sandhya's life so far - and we are so excited about the new member of the family! Hooray for Abishek! Welcome to planet earth!

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Earlier in the evening we had met another baby. This child was brought to the monthly support meeting that we have for people with HIV and their families. Though the girls mother is not positive (at least she was not when we tested her some years ago) - she is very much a teen-aged mother and her husband already has a problem with the bottle.

But today was a day of thankgiving for this family as well. The mother stood up and thanked God for giving her a daughter. The father later shared in a small group discussion and prayer time that he wanted to leave his drinking behind and start afresh.

The baby is just 10 days old - what lies ahead for this child? Her mother has said that it was a miracle that she receieved this beautiful child - and they have decided to call the baby as 'Angel.'

Free Dr. Binayak Sen!

Right. Lets get it out.

On Christmas eve a court in central India sentenced Dr. Binayak Sen to life imprisonment after finding him guilty of "sedition".

In a land which a certain Trinidadian Nobel Laureate has called a land of a 'million mutinies' - this judgement has sent a chill that is deeper than the winter cold we are facing across the country.

Dr. Sen is a man known for his courageous voice - and years of service. One may not always be comfortable with the particular policitical flavour that that his life has been lived in - but as the vice president of the Peoples Union for Civil Liberties - arguably the most prominent national human rights organisation in India - he has been at the forefront of speaking out against injustices big and small.

So what has convinced the hon'ble judge that Dr. Sen is a threat to the state? Sedition by definition is a serious offence - one where the acts of the perpetrator threaten the very core of a nation.

This is what seems to be the rub.

Living in Chhatisgarh - Dr. Sen has seen first-hand the anti-Maoist 'Salva Judum' movement. It is no secret that we are in the midst of a low-level civil war with large portions of central India being contested between ultra-maoist groups (often called 'Naxalites') and the various security agencies that 'bear the sword.'

What is creepy is how similar to our erst-while colonial masters the current representatives of the state are in large tracts of our country. The power still rests with the district magistrate. The local police outpost is still a place where people fear. The forest and mineral resources are still largely exploited by large entities that have very little to do with building genuine local wealth - and all to to with people far away becoming very rich.

Dr. Sen has dared to speak up - publicly and consistently - against the excesses of various state enforcement agencies. That seems to have been enough to brand him an enemy - and to hand down a judgement that baffles the mind.

In a land where we have a miserable conviction rate - some figures talk about less than 10% of serious crimes leading to convictions - we have the opposite in the case of Dr. Sen. The court bending over backwards to put a brave voice behind bars. For life.

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So what is anyone going to do about the plight of Dr. Binayak Sen?

Having already served 2 years in prison before finally being set free earlier this year - Dr. Sen looks set for another lengthy spell in our prison setup.

Friends in the Free Binayak Sen Campaign have started up their support. Voices are heard in the press. Questions are asked as to why Christians are not speaking up? An on-line petition has been started - which can be accessed by clicking: here

Our fervent prayers are that God will show our nation to be a place where justice does prevail - and where the innocent are not lumped with the guilty - while the swindlers go scot-free. The fact that this 'conviction' has taken place in a season where every day the newspapers trumpet another mind-bogglingly large scam adds bile.

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This morning I stopped in a bank - and was talking with the person at the counter about my work. The young man looked at me whistfully and told me that he had earlier joined the communist party in his home state of Andhra Pradesh. There we were - seated opposite each other in a swish new-age branch of a leading private bank - and the man was telling me of his past as a community activist. Why did he leave that and why was he here in Thane? Family problems (code word for - money needs to be earned - obligations to be met).

To most of our countrymen - the plight of Dr. Sen is an afterthought. Life is tough and we need to survive. Few will have ever even heard of him.

To many of our more privileged countrymen - Dr. Sen is at best a slight embarassment and at worst a dangerous subversive who ought to be locked up anyway.

To an small minority of us Dr. Sen represents the best our country has to offer - a man who had the world at his feet having graduated from CMC Vellore - but who chose to live out his life among the poor - and challenge the portals of power that have so long ruled (and continue to rule) our dear land.

The fact that Dr. Sen has been linked to a group of people who are themselves wreaking havoc in the name of a people's revolution does not take away from the travesty of justice that is being carried out against him.

Dr. Sen's imprisonment has weakened the very fabric of our nation. His arrest threatens you and me. This terrible decision must not be allowed to stand.

There can be no other word than this: Free Dr. Binayak Sen!

Bitter

We have made some really big advances in caring for people with HIV. Hospitals in the West have long since shut down their 'AIDS Wards' since the advent of AntiRetroviral Therapy. People with HIV are living longer and healthier. More people are getting into treatment. There is a reduction in the numbers of new cases of HIV in many places.

All this is wonderful news.

But there are still so many who are suffering. In the thick silence that smothers so much of our Positive Friends lives.

Sheba went with our new staff member Santosh and Anil (a young man who is checking out JSK) to meet a man we will call 'Tarun.'

Tarun has been bed-ridden for months now. His family is tired of helping him out. They are angry at one and all. Including Tarun himself.

Tarun is now paralysed from below the waist. He has been incontinent. The cost of the pads has been adding up and his uncle decided yesterday that they would no longer buy them. Tarun was instructed to tell when he wanted to urinate and they would bring a bottle.

While Sheba and the staff were visiting Tarun wet the bed. His mother flew into a rage. She cursed him, telling him she wished he was dead and gone.

Our young men helped clean up Tarun and change the bed clothes.

Sheba then sat down with the mother to try and explain that Tarun has no control over his urination. Since he is paralyzed he cannot tell when he will pass urine.

A few minutes after this conversation Tarun wet the bed again.

His mother angrily grabbed the cloths and went off to wash.

We want so much to help Tarun and would love to look after him at our centre - but we need at least one female relative to come along. Tarun is not married and no relative is ready.

In the meantime this young man is dying - lying on a small cot in a 8 x 10 ft room which he shares with his mother, uncle, brother, sister in law and her children.

Its a silent bitter harvest.

Silence... is busy

Gentle readers,

The last week of silence has not been because we were deeply depressed - or that we had nothing to write about. The rush and swirl of life has been such that the fingers have not been tapping in further happenings. We now have a delicious backlog of amazing things to write about ... where to start?

The next few days should see an emerging of the busy month of December - plus various musings and rants.

Stay tuned gentle (and patient) friends!

Hardly a stain

I was puttering on the scooter to the office. Then I saw it happen.

Another scooter was coming towards me. Suddenly I saw a stray dog lunging agressively towards the scooter - barking furiously. Then the horror - the old lady who was riding pillion fell off the scooter. I saw her hands splayed out and the sight of her body hitting the road.

Then a whirr of events. The lady driving the scooter stopped and ran back. A few people came running from the sidelines. I think I briefly drove my scooter toward the horror of a dog to scare him off - and then ran over to help. The lady was laying on the road with her eyes opened but glazed. Someone called for water so I ran and opened the office and got a glass-full.

When I returned the old lady was sitting up. There was blood on the road. Someone had brought a lota of water, but she could not drink from it. She drank a bit from my glass and then a car was found for her to take her to the hospital. The younger lady gave instructions to a man to put the scooter away. The doors were opened and the old lady bundled inside. Seconds later the car had left. The scooter was pushed away to be parked. The small crowd dwindled.

Only the small pool of blood remained. And some water splashes on the ground.

Later in the morning I saw other dogs sniffing at the dried blood.

In the afternoon all that remained was the faintest of a stain.

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A day later there is no memory, no visual clue to what happened yesterday morning. Busses and cycles have passed over the place. The sun has risen and fallen. People have come and gone. The evening bhelpuri has been eaten. The morning papers have been delivered.

Where is memory hosted? What layers of the specific incidents of the past are plastered over the geography of the present? What is the link between our experiences then and now and what lies ahead?

Cure

"In conclusion, our results strongly suggest that cure of HIV has been achieved in this patient."

Whew! Don't we wish we could report that about any one of the folks that we are working with at Jeevan Sahara Kendra.

Two weeks ago clinical scientists in Germany reported that very statement in the scientific journal Blood. Needless to say the news made headlines world wide.

The man they had been working with has been known for the last 2.5 years as 'the Berlin patient.' He is an American living in Germany who had been treated for a form of acute myeloid leukemia using a bone marrow transplant. Instead of only treating the cancer, the clinicians chose to see if something could be done about his HIV infection too.

It is known that about 1 in 1000 Europeans have a genetic condition which makes them resistant to HIV infection. This 'defect' is called the CCR5 delta-32 deletion.

To quote the article from AIDSMeds.com: This defect prevents CD4 cells from developing a receptor, called CCR5, on their surfaces. People who inherit this genetic mutation from both parents have CD4 cells that lack the CCR5 entirely and, as a result, are highly resistant to HIV

The physicians were able to find a bone marrow donor whose parents both had the mutation.

Following standard therapy, they then destroyed most of the patient's remaining white blood cells and gave further immunosuppressant drugs in order to acheive maximal acceptance of the bone marrow transplant. The transplant using what was hoped to be HIV resistant stem cells was conducted 20 months ago. The physicians stopped the patients' ART retroviral therapy at that point.

A relapse of the cancer 13 months later forced them to repeat the procedure of destroying the white blood cells and doing another transplant from the same donor.

The new cells 'took' successfully. The doctors have now reported that there is no sign of the leukemia anymore. And there is also no sign of active HIV.

This is a huge breakthrough - because it was assumed that reservoirs of HIV infection in different parts of the body would recolonise the person later. But this seems to have been thwarted by the newly resistant white blood cells.

The man - who last week revealed his identity as Timothy Ray Brown (picture above) in an interview with the German magazine Stern - is now recognised as having been cured of HIV/AIDS.

That he almost died a number of times during his treatment - especially after the relapse of leukemia - does not take away from the wonder of the achievement.

At the same time, we are not expecting any flood of treatments anytime in the near future. Commentary from various sources points out the obvious: It worked for Timothy Ray Brown - but not everyone could undergo the rigours of twice going through the chemo- and radiation-therapy that he did to receive the marrow transplants. And further - the vast majority of people living with HIV cannot dream of the resources needed to undergo such a set of interventions.

Still - just the thrill of hearing a set of august scientists concluding that for this person at least - a therapuetic cure has been achieved - is worth celebrating.

The thrill of seeing a man who has been cured - is something to be very glad about.

There is at least 1 Nobel prize in medicine still awaiting the team that develops a reasonable and replicable curative treatment for HIV.

This month we may have seen a small step towards what we are praying for.

Morning shuffle

Dark outside. Push the cage-like lift-door open.

Stretching inside. Then out. More stretching - tendons that have been slumbering for years are announcing themselves. Long lost ligaments speaking their existence through the pain of being.

Out into the twilight. Muffled security guard asleep at his desk.

2800 rupees per month. 7 days a week. 12 hours a day. No holidays (unless you presuade one of your colleagues to do a 24 hour shift for you. This is the way the city welcomes those who seek its embrace - and don't have the 'english-talking' smarts to get ahead (and don't turn to crime). Its no surprise that most will have to sleep.

My feet are cramped in the new shoes. Limber up the steps and then into the slow shuffle masquerading as a jog.

My feet plod along and I see cold dogs huddled in their nests along the road. Small scooped out areas in piles of dried leaves the sweepers have place for later burning.

The street is empty save for the odd milk truck carreening around the corner and the stray auto-rickshaw prowling for a fare.

I see a balding, middle-aged man huffing and puffing along. Wait - I don't see him - that's me!

My feet pass a group of girls sorting newspapers for distribution. Not something we see usually - most paper distributers are young men.

My right small toe is sore. The new shoes are too tight. Too late. Carry on regardless.

The odd fellow walker / jogger shows up in either direction. Most muffled with various layers of sweaters - we are in the deep of winter after all.

My legs decide its time to walk. The days of being 65 kgs are long over. There is a certain roundness to the mid-riff which wasn't there for the first 3 decades - but has emerged in the last year.

The sky is slowly turning. A cool breeze flows from the side of the road that runs parallel to the national park - 2oo un-built-up meters away. The rumble of the city is just about to start.

Even walking my right toe hurts. Ah the joy of minor pains.

I am just about to start the shuffle again as a cheery motor-cyclist calls my name. A local pastor who has dropped his daughter off at school (the dreaded 7.30 AM shift that so many kids have to go through).

The legs get pumping again as I turn up a road that goes past my office. A local slum in near by and I see men jumping over a wall - empty plastic bottles in hand. They have used the waste-land as their toilet and are returning to start the day.

My right pinky is clearly a blister waiting to burst. Left pinky joins in to make it a duet.

Three figures loom out of the mist. Is it a family? It ends up being two teenagers and a kid - all dressed in uniforms. At a bus-stand another two girls wait. Uniformed. Most likely from the shanty-town near-by - but making steps into a new life of hope. I hope.

I turn the final bend and trundle down the bomb-crater sized pot-holed road that my scooter (and long-suffering back) traverse so often. The sun has risen and is shining into the coolness - orange rays probing. I remember a morning long-ago in Yamnotri - waiting for the sun to caress the bitter cold of a hike.

Then I am back home. Its been just over 1/2 an hour. Its been a small lifetime.

I carry the soreness of muscle and tendon through the day. My blisters souvenirs of the novelty of it all.