Of Pills, Paracetamol, and the Power of Turmeric.
On a Lighter Note.
I recently found myself watching an evening news show - unintentionally, I assure you.
The show was discussing the problem of “pill-poppers” in India.
The anchor described Indians “eating pills” at the slightest hint of a headache, fever, or vague discomfort. People, she claimed, were “using these pills like candy.”
The pill she took exception to? A locally manufactured paracetamol tablet: Dolo-650— stronger than the standard 500 mg dose found in the US as Tylenol or generic acetaminophen.
Doctors here typically prescribe it for fevers, flu aches, and related symptoms, often marking it on the prescription as “SOS” — Si Opus Sit — a medical shorthand (used here (and in the UK?)) for “take only when needed.”
Dolo-650 appears to have grown in popularity during the pandemic — despite never being advertised directly.
The company behind it reportedly saw record-breaking revenues of $41M last year for it.
The show had, on its panel, two doctors, to discuss whether this was truly a public health issue — and to offer their advice.
The doctors unequivocally stated that “self-medication” is inadvisable, and urged people to stop taking paracetamol casually. They went on to list the drug’s side effects - without clarifying at what dosage it actually becomes harmful.
Yes, you can buy medicines without a prescription here. That’s how it’s always been.
You walk up to a pharmacy you trust and ask, “What do you recommend for fever and body aches?”
He’ll ask a few more questions before offering Dolo-650.
You follow up: “Is it safe to take?”
He’ll say yes — it’s safe.
Because he’s seen the prescriptions come in and no complaints from the patients.
So he has deduced: safe!
He’s been proven right in the past, which is why he is your trusted, go-to pharmacy.
For the common cold and non-serious issues, he’ll help you. Age-adjusted advice, too.
But when it’s beyond his understanding, he’ll shake his head and suggest you see a doctor.
With regulations tightening for online pharmacies, they've adapted to offer virtual doctor calls before confirming your order. So, even without a prescription, as long as the doctor they have on call okays it, they’re covered! Anything to keep the commerce going. Jugaad, some call it. Innovation, others proclaim with pride. Band-aid fixes, tailored for the ever-suspicious Indian consumer.
Some local pharmacies also ask for prescriptions now.
But for the most part? You still get by.
Especially since the pharmacist is usually quite good at profiling — separating the potential pill-abuser from someone with a genuine need, like a grandfather with a fever at 8 p.m.
Did I mention we have 24x7 pharmacies?
In reality, many Indians are afraid of taking pills.
Even doctor-prescribed ones.
Some will abandon a prescription midway if they start to feel better, refusing to follow the full dosage.
The common view: Never trust the doctor fully.
The concern: varying skill levels, profit motive, and a general distrust of relying on medicines.
Plus, they already feel better, don’t they?
When they fill the prescription, the pharmacist will ask - for how many days - ignoring the doctor’s writing of ten days on the prescription.
Because they know two things: the common fear of medical drugs, and the budgets some may operate under — buying on an as-needed basis.
So, no, drugs are typically not advertised on TV.
Herbal, ayurvedic preparations - sure, sometimes.
Some might show up in the papers as half-page ads.
The cultural DNA leans toward herbal medicines and Ayurveda, with a deep suspicion of chemical alternatives.
For many.
Others will proudly hold their abstinence from drugs as a badge of honor.
There is an alternate, working remedy for many common symptoms.
Sore throat? Warm water and salt gargles — an unmistakable fix.
Tulsi tea. For de-stressing.
Ginger tea for indigestion.
Plain yogurt with psyllium husk for an irritated stomach.
Spiced milk for soothing sore throats and colds.
Hot almond milk with saffron for the winter cold.
Warm water for the fall. Or a sore throat.
No ice in water, ever, for some.
Oils for various muscle and body aches, headaches, colds, and sinuses.
One for all of them — a highly effective oil with an unlikely name - Sensur Oil (Indian English?) — a roll-on made from different oils, chief among them camphor, which is commonly used in daily ‘aarti’1 at home and in the temples.
Or the famous, quite popular and efficacious Unani2 medicine — Zinda Tilismath3 — first sold in the 1920s, is positioned as an elixir for various ailments: colds, coughs, digestive troubles, muscle and joint pain, etc. A small but potent concoction, priced at a premium (around ₹180 / $2.15 for 15ml), used both internally and externally, seems to issue a challenge: Beat that, modern medicine!
In the age of e-commerce and Google, century-old traditional brands are being boosted with disclosures and certifications — not previously a strong suit in medicines.
Then there is turmeric for minor injuries. Why buy an antiseptic ointment? Just put some ‘haldi’4 on a finger injury from slicing onions.
The paradox? Many of these age-old remedies do work for some ailment or the other.
Turmeric does stop the bleeding near-instantly (as I can attest), and has other intriguing medicinal properties — enough to spark the curiosity of global research teams racing to understand it, while the all-knowing Indian simply nods: ‘Told you so.’
The ancients knew a lot! (Or so it is believed.)
Some networks revel in debating remedies and sharing secrets. Favorite Ayurvedic formulations that “worked wonders” for them are eagerly recommended — and when among friends and family, they’ll insist you try it.
Sometimes, if you defer, they may be hurt by your lack of faith in their advice. So you do a mini-dance of acceptance, adoption — or acceptance and quietly hiding the bottle away.
This is why no one can definitively say which Ayurvedic or herbal remedy — practiced in the culture or refined by certain families — will fail.
Five thousand years of herbal concoctions: how do you counter that kind of tribal knowledge?
Still, built-in instinct and ‘trust your gut’ thinking often hold sway. Most know that not every Ayurvedic doctor is credible, and word-of-mouth is important.
But being a pill-popper? Few here will qualify.
Are there extreme cases? Sure — as many as you’d expect in a population of a billion.
But you’re more likely to find naysayers than poppers.
This ease of ordering medicines to relieve pain — balanced with a healthy dose of skepticism and a bias for traditional remedies — makes it especially hard on Indians when they move overseas.
Doctors must be consulted. Prescriptions must be issued. At the pharmacy, you have to wait. If they decide it’s viral, you’re sent home — no medicine, not even for a placebo effect.
No trying ivermectin for Covid without a prescription.
No asking for the same antibiotic you used last year when the symptoms were the same.
Nah-uh. Recency is key.
Some Indians call home, complaining: “They won’t even give me anything for this infection.”
Their family offers suggestions, only to be met with, “I can’t here, Mama. They won’t prescribe it.”
The parents are shocked. Their beti5 is suffering. What kind of doctor won’t give her medicine?
Next time, they advise: carry it from India.
Or the child asks, “Can you send some with a friend?”
If the postal services allow it — great. Otherwise?
Cue the WhatsApp group messages: “Anyone traveling to the US? Need to send medicine.”
Or its cousin: “Anyone coming back? Would you bring …”
Caught in Amsterdam with a UTI? Drink plenty of water — and wait it out. In India, you’d likely be given medicine right away - even antibiotics.
That is, until the research on antibiotic resistance. No matter the gaps, practitioners here follow international — especially American — medical research trends quite closely.
Doctors have seen millions of cases. So, experience of the medical professional matters.
Given the cultural DNA, the doctor often suggests: no point waiting it out — the patient’s innate scepticism (or their family’s) will win out.
So, you see, the internet is a wonderful invention — even a global ripple turns into a local “trend,” suddenly treated as a unique concern.
For clicks, ratings, or simply being the first to air a ‘novel’ news item.
But, perhaps, it is just a way to continue to be ‘all-knowing’ because it is a source of pride.
Soon after this show, some people began to refuse to take paracetamol for fever - the same medicine that their doctor had previously recommended on an SOS basis.
Now who is to explain the difference between ‘once in a while,’ and ‘often’ to a patient?
When asked why they refuse, they said, “The doctor on TV said I must not take Dolo-650/paracetamol.”
More tribal knowledge builds.
Therein lies the irony!
p.s. This is not medical advice. Merely observational — and I hope, occasionally humorous.
A small camphor flame offered to the Gods during Hindu worship, used to seek blessings at the end of prayer.
Unani medicine: Originating in ancient Greece and possibly Egypt, Unani was likely introduced to India in the 8th century. It flourished under the Delhi Sultanate and the Mughal Empire as a holistic system of healing. The tradition continues to be practiced in India today.
Urdu/Persian. Zinda = Alive; Tilismath = Magical. Suggests it is an elixir. Technically: Living Magic.
Turmeric, Hindi.
Daughter, Hindi.
Tradition; "We've always done it that way, why change?"
I wouldn't go that far but there is usually, or at least very often, a reason behind traditional actions. There is no harm in looking carefully at traditions and understanding the reason for such before changing.
In other words, listen to what the doctor says but also pay attention to your grandmother's excellent advice also, young lady! Grin.
Fascinating, Jayshree. Well done. I think the influence of culture on the "medical advice" that people will accept or reject is just about everywhere. But of course varies, correct?