In the Bonesetter's Waiting Room by Aarathi Prasad Page B

working on a hunch that the next anti-ageing revelation might well be found in the ancient herbs used by Ayurvedic healers.
    L’Oréal aside, Anusha’s academic interest was in the medicinal rather than cosmetic, researching the safety and efficacy of traditional Ayurvedic formulations. In fact, they are on the world’s radar just as much as Indianised mascara and maquillage. The market for Ayurvedic products has been growing steadily at ten to twelve per cent annually and now boasts a Rs8–10,000 crore (£8–10 million) turnover combining both domestic and exports. In addition, although it is difficult to put an exact figure on what proportion of the medical tourism industry (worth about £2.5 billion) is attributable to Ayurveda, there are signs that it is significant, probably particularly in Kerala, where traditional Ayurvedic spas have long been a major attraction for foreign tourists.
    Though her clear commitment to Ayurveda, its holistic philosophy and its efficacy was understandable, much of Anusha’s recent work had involved investigation of concerns regarding the safety of traditional medicines that had been surfacing in medical literature from several countries, particularly Italy and the USA. In the United States and in Europe, herbal products don’t necessarily have to be classified as medicines: they can be marketed as cosmetic or food products. This means that, in general, consumers regard them as harmless and regulators do not ask for proof of safety or efficacy. This lack of knowledge surrounding traditional herbal medicines, combined with an explosion in their use, demanded further investigation, and I was interested that Anusha’s response was based on modern Western science, informed by an understanding of Indian tradition.
    She explained this to me when we met over a cappuccino in one of Bangalore’s many Coffee Day franchises, where we were joined by her husband and her clever, funny toddler, who was alternating her requests for cake between Tamil and English.
    â€˜There are some products that are not good products,’ Anusha explained. ‘That doesn’t mean the Ayurvedic formula is harmful, but that the product could be adulterated. Ayurvedic medicines can be herbal, metal, mineral or a combination of those. The problems have come from heavy metal poisoning – lead, mercury, or arsenic. Even in chawanprash [a popular, particularly tasty dietary supplement containing honey, ghee, berries and spices and sold all over the world], there can be a lot of variation between companies depending on how and where they source the ingredients.
    â€˜The dosage that ends up in a product can become too high for several reasons. A supplier might gather a crop from a polluted waterway or next to a busy road, for example, or store it incorrectly. So now Indian producers are being regulated – herbal plants should be grown and harvested in controlled conditions. But the regulation still only covers products for export, not those for the Indian market. The other issue is how an Ayurvedic medicine or formulation is prepared. We know that the heavy metals which are used in Ayurveda can have severe effects, but this should not happen if they are formulated properly. When their use is described in the ancient texts, it’s only after extensive processing during which they undergo a physical or chemical change that makes them safe to ingest. In this way, a toxic material like mercury can be converted into a medicine.’
    By processing, Anusha was referring to how raw medicinal substances used in Ayurveda are first modified, for example by heating until red hot and dipping into a specified series of liquids; or by subjecting them to high pressures. It may sound a little like alchemy, but because what she was describing involved physical manipulation of materials, it is not unreasonable, scientifically, to suppose that those materials were themselves undergoing