On being phlegmatic

Rahul Brown, an inspirational friend whom I recently met, had recently written a humorous, yet powerful anecdote about his experience with the ragpicker community and his first encounter with unabashed nose-blowing commonly seen in India. I encourage everyone to read about him and his amazing work that he is doing in Ahmedabad.

Since I have arrived, I've once again begun to quietly watch people cough out their phlegm with great gusto every time they feel a slight onset of thickness at the back of their throats. I watch in wonder at the reverent tolerance that passersby display as a piece of translucent phlegm passes diagonally in front of them on a footpath. Or how it is incorporated into the morning bath (most gutturally) and the daily yoga ritual.

I find myself using innumerable reams of toilet paper to capture the ongoing phlegm, a symptom of being in a dusty environment and moving between scorching heat to AC environs. But for those who think of paper products as a luxury, or haven't ever been exposed to that concept, blowing into one's fingers is almost necessary. Phlegm, as I have learned from my yogic family, leads your body to diseases of every type, getting trapped in your lungs, stomach, intestines, leading to gradual, slime-like build up, causing resistance to your internal bodily activities. It is, overall, a disgusting, life-thwarting substance. To understand this, and many of the seemingly unpleasant aspects of Indian life, and its juxtaposition to incomparable grace and beauty, is to understand the complexities of India. To accept these habits and view them as part and parcel to the harmonious threads making up the national fabric is what makes it seem only natural. I now cease to look at spitting and raucous throat clearing with disapproval - I too just look away and let the person continue in their routine cleaning with privacy, making sure to not step into the target destination.