The fever broke at about 11pm, and he slept through the night in fits and starts, the candle-light shimmering on a thin layer of sweat coating his clammy skin. When the morning came he awoke with vague, frightened recollections of the night before and a sense of his own frailty...
It's like a line from Conrad or Greene, but its not adventurous or exciting when you are laying on the floor of your room - aching and shivering - hearing people walk by your door and lacking the energy to rise or call out. I eventually mustered the strength to crawl to the door and tumble into the common room as Daivindra-ji, my host, walked by on his way from evening offerings.
Daivindra-ji and his family stayed with me for hours, making me drink hydrating salts, listening to my crazed ranting - of which I remember some with great embarrassment - and talking to me to help stave my panic. I lament the fear that his family had to experience with me, but am eternally thankful that they stayed with me.
Being so far from home, in such an alien place and so vulnerable is humbling and instructive.
I am fine now, still taking medicine "prescribed" by a German doctor, Uli, who by providence checked into the guest house on the same day my intestinal bug manifested itself. Uli has long experience practicing in India and Afghanistan, and is thus very familiar with the ailments of these climes.
I have resumed my yoga classes today, and am happy to report an invigorating and exhilarating session today that filled me with optimism for the coming weeks that counter-balances the fear and insecurities that filled me during the hours my fever peaked.
"Oh these little earthquakes. Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces..." Tori Amos