Musings at Mori Road

I often saw him walking every evening with his bag in the hand to his dispensary. He was a large man and with the advancing of years his walk had a slight stoop but he still stood tall amongst most who met him. I called him Uncle having grown up in his presence and him having been responsible for my well being from the time I was born. I had this innate faith in his ability to cure me of any ailment and get me up and running.  Like me for most people at Mori Road, the doctor’s magic potions were something that you just had blind faith on. For every person who visited his clinic, he would scribble something   that then went to his compounder (medicine man) who prepared the potion. I often tried to peer through the 2X2 viewing pane half bending down to get a sense of how the compounder mixed these magic potions and it was fascinating to see the mixtures getting ground and packed into bottles and the pills used to be wrapped in small newspapers pellets to designate the dosages. Here it