I still remember the time when I was 8 years old and a circus troupe came to town and how I’d pleaded with my mom to take me to it. The tickets were bought and we were all prepared. My grandmother too had come over for the summer and I was glad we would watch the circus together. Just a week before going to the circus show, I contracted chicken pox, was down with high temperature and my body was blotchy with red puffs all over. The weekend was finally here and I still had not recuperated. I was extremely sad about missing the circus and my grandmother noticed my sadness. The next morning she came to my room, looking strange. She had powdered her face and put numerous red dots over it. She was dressed like a clown and started circling around my bed. She took out a magic wand and asked me to wish for which ever candy I liked. I kept asking for different candies and they would appear from nowhere. I laughed the whole time and forgot about the circus. I don’t know how she did it, but that day became the best day of my life.

Chicken pox at the age of 18 is worse than if I had it when I was just 18 months old. Although, I was vaccinated for chicken pox when I was 2 years old, only god knows how I got it now. The little red blisteres that covered my body were an ugly sight and I would dread looking at myself in the mirror. I would miss my work at the day camps and the children. They were probably the reason for my condition and I started hating them. The itching got so worse by the end of the second week that I wanted to take a knife and scratch my skin. I stayed in the dark all day, refusing to see anyone as I knew I would blurt my frustration to them. The children from the camp missed me and wanted to visit me, but, of course, they were dissuaded. One morning my mom knocked on my door and asked me to come out urgently and when I opened the door, a bunch of balloons fluttered in my face and each one of them contained a message for me. This was planned by the children at the camp and I forgot my hatred for them and decided to join such camps every summer.

I am 27 years old and never thought that I would get chicken pox at such an age. One night I started to feel something different, my body was itching and there were small rashes all over and I knew something was terribly wrong with me. The next day I went to my doctor and showed him the rashes, which by this time had converted into blisters. To my utter surprise the doctor claimed I had chicken pox and the first thing that struck me was that I had a small baby at home and wondered if he too had got it. When I called home and enquired about him, the symptoms told me he too had chicken pox. The biggest problem now arrived. I had never been on good terms with my mother-in-law and she was the only help available. She came over right away and took me aback with her concern and all the care she took of both me and my son. It has been three months now and I’m glad chicken pox gave me a new friend, my dearest mother-in-law.

The first time I got chicken pox, it was a gift from my elder brother and I don’t remember much about that time. Then I got it a second time when I was in the 5th grade. I hated staying at home for two weeks away from school and friends, and also hated the restrictions put on me to stay away from my brother and eating meals all by myself in my room. Surprisingly when I was 18 years old, one summer night I woke up in the middle of the night scratching my back and also my face. I was a military brat and called up the hospital; they simply gave me telephonic instructions and prescribed medicines. I was not satisfied with this and went right up to the doctor and was diagnosed with chicken pox. After such negligence, I requested the hospital to bring a change in their policies of never prescribing medicines without physical examination and I am glad they put this down as a written rule and have been following the same for 5 years now.

You love women despite their insanities. My mother, too, has the same feminist insanity and yet she is adorable. When I was 6 and my sister was 3 years old, women from our neighborhood organized a Chicken Pox Party. A young girl, my sister’s age was diagnosed with chicken pox and other mothers collectively decided they will make their kids drink from her glass during the party so that they too would get it. They wanted to save us from two hassles: one of getting chicken pox when we get older and second was to protect us against autism as the vaccine might contribute to its development. My sister and I both got chicken pox and all my mother said was, “You hate seeing your kids sick, but it made sense to expose you two to the disease naturally.”