THE LIE, THAT EVERYONE GETS DISEASES

— Why Believing That Disease, Medicine, and Surgery Are a Part of Everyone’s Life Is a Deeply Dangerous Illusion

This illustration captures the haunting yet normalized belief that diseases, medicines, and surgery are a routine part of human life. At the center, the bold statement anchors the viewer in collective conditioning, while around it, figures of all ages silently suffer — a boy clutching his forehead, an elderly woman weary with grief, a man bent in pain, and another bedridden under a blanket of dependency. Surrounding symbols — the hospital, stethoscope, pills, bottles, and scalpel — remind us how deeply these tools have replaced nature, instinct, and self-trust. The image doesn’t dramatize; it mirrors. It shows how entire generations surrendered their health to a system that convinced them that being unwell is simply what it means to be human.

---

INTRODUCTION:

Every time you say, “It happens to everyone,”

you bury your curiosity under convenience.

Every time you say, “This is normal with age,”

you trade your vitality for collective decay.

Every time you say, “What’s the harm in one pill?”

you welcome a lifetime of side effects.

The greatest lie of modern living is this:

that disease is inevitable, medicines are essential, and surgery is a matter of time.

Not only have we accepted this lie,

but we’ve passed it down like heirlooms—wrapped in pride, grief, and resignation.

This essay exposes this illusion in its full depth,

traces how it became a collective delusion,

reveals who benefits from it,

shows how it cripples the body, the family, and the nation—

and finally, offers a path to remember what health truly is.

---

SECTION 1: WHERE THE LIE BEGAN

Illness was rare in ancient, natural living.

In every ecosystem, animals live mostly without disease.

So did tribal and rural human communities—until disruption arrived.

The turning point was disconnection from instinct.

Fire, farming, cities, schools, industries, processed food, unnatural sleep patterns—

each step moved us away from our bodies,

and toward systems that managed symptoms.

Institutions normalized disease for control and profit.

The medical, insurance, food, pharma, and media industries collaborated—knowingly or not—

to redefine health not as a natural state,

but as a product you must constantly buy, monitor, and renew.

---

SECTION 2: HOW THE LIE IS MAINTAINED

1. By calling illness “natural”

– Grey hair, acidity, diabetes, back pain, infertility—marketed as “common,” not reversible.

– Schoolbooks and health classes skip lifestyle, gut, or emotions—go straight to organs and medicine.

2. By silencing the exceptions

– People who heal naturally are called lucky, magical, or anecdotal.

– Stories of reversal are not shown in ads or prime time news.

3. By preloading the child with fear

– Vaccines on day one.

– “Don’t go out, you’ll get sick.”

– “Wash with soap or you’ll get germs.”

– Sickness is the first language a child learns.

4. By emotionally attaching care to medicines

– A mother who feeds pills is seen as “caring.”

– A doctor who prescribes quickly is “professional.”

– A person who refuses treatment is “irresponsible.”

5. By framing health as management

– You’re not healthy; you’re “under control.”

– Blood tests and reports decide your fate.

– You’re not allowed to feel fine unless a lab confirms it.

---

SECTION 3: WHO BENEFITS FROM THIS BELIEF?

1. Pharmaceutical companies

– One lifetime patient is worth millions.

– Chronic diseases are more profitable than cures.

2. Hospitals and diagnostic chains

– Surgeries are planned, not prevented.

– “Preventive health” = early diagnosis = lifelong customer.

3. Processed food and beverage companies

– They create the diseases first: gut damage, acidity, cravings.

– Then sell fake solutions: oats, vitamin water, sugar-free chemicals.

4. Fitness and supplement industries

– Sell hope in bottles and apps, not truth in lifestyle.

5. Governments and NGOs

– Control people through health policies and “public safety.”

– Distract the masses from food politics and environmental damage.

6. Religious and spiritual gurus

– Promise healing through rituals, mantras, or faith—without requiring lifestyle change.

---

SECTION 4: THE DAMAGE THIS LIE CAUSES

1. Physical

– Chronic gut issues, hormonal imbalances, mental fog, obesity, infertility, fatigue.

– Premature aging and dependence on devices or pills.

2. Psychological

– Loss of trust in one’s own body.

– Anxiety with every small symptom.

– Fear of death becomes a constant background noise.

3. Emotional

– Resentment toward the body: “Why me?”

– Shame about illness, or superiority when “fit.”

4. Familial

– Medical expenses as a primary financial burden.

– Entire relationships shaped by disease management.

– Children raised with disease as identity.

5. Cultural

– Traditional wisdom dismissed as superstition.

– Farmers grow poison, cities eat pills.

– Clean water, fasting, walking barefoot now seen as “dangerous.”

---

SECTION 5: SIGNS YOU HAVE BELIEVED THE LIE

You assume everyone will get diabetes, BP, or arthritis after 40.

You carry “emergency” pills for acidity, allergies, or pain.

You think health equals weight, or lab reports.

You call someone “brave” for taking chemotherapy.

You doubt people who healed naturally.

You say, “This happens with age.”

You feel something is wrong with you if you haven’t had a major health crisis.

You look for quick relief, not root cause.

You believe in expert advice more than your own lived experience.

You assume that without medical care, people will die.

---

SECTION 6: THE TRUTH WE MUST REMEMBER

Health is the default of the body—if not disturbed.

– Your body wants to heal, not hurt.

– Symptoms are warnings, not enemies.

– Sickness is not random—it is response.

Nature gives every species a manual for health—instinct.

– Eat when hungry. Sleep when tired. Walk, move, touch soil.

– Drink living water, eat fiber-rich food, breathe clean air.

– Fast regularly. Laugh fully. Cry when needed.

– Respect the sun, seasons, and silence.

Self-care is radical in a sick society.

– Refusing medicines is not recklessness—it’s a form of rebellion.

– Healing your gut, your food, your sleep, your emotions—restores forgotten wisdom.

Disease is not inevitable. Medicines are not essential. Surgery is not fate.

– They are results of choices, not punishments from life.

---

CONCLUSION:

A society that accepts disease as normal is already dead in spirit.

It educates for dependency, not dignity.

It prays for recovery, not prevention.

It rewards those who consume more treatments—not those who consume less junk.

But you can walk away from this lie.

Not by protesting.

Not by reading a thousand health books.

But by waking up early.

Touching the soil.

Eating whole, clean food.

Listening to your pain before it screams.

And believing again in the most dangerous and powerful truth:

You are meant to be healthy.

---

---

HEALING DIALOGUE

“WE THOUGHT ILLNESS WAS PART OF LIFE”

A large Indian family, surrounded by chronic symptoms and confused by constant diagnoses, visits Madhukar — a 43-year-old man who was once a veterinary doctor, scientist, and professor. He gave it all up to live simply as a natural being — just a husband and father to two homeschooling daughters. No longer playing roles, he sees things exactly as they are, and invites others to do the same.

---

CHARACTERS

Madhukar – 43, lives off-grid on forest edge, walks barefoot, grows food, speaks rarely but clearly

Sadanand (Thatha) – 76, widower, has glaucoma, hearing loss, takes sleeping pills

Rukmini (Ajji) – 74, skin rashes, chronic constipation, takes laxatives and ointments daily

Ganesh – 50, elder son, works in a bank, has frequent vertigo, tinnitus, and numbness in fingers

Sarala – 46, Ganesh’s wife, fibromyalgia, chronic pain, and TMJ jaw stiffness

Prabha – 48, Ganesh’s sister, teacher, suffers from recurring mouth ulcers, hemorrhoids, and pelvic floor weakness

Manju – 26, Ganesh’s son, newly married, has dry eyes, jaw clenching, premature ejaculation

Asha – 24, Manju’s wife, suffers from gallbladder sludge, bloating, body odour, and excessive hair loss

Revathi – 15, Ganesh’s youngest daughter, has recurring nosebleeds, motion sickness, low stamina

---

[Scene: A dusty track opens into a silent clearing, where Madhukar is pulling weeds near a line of okra plants. His younger daughter sits beside him, counting earthworms. The family walks in, shoes crunching the gravel. Nobody says hello. Madhukar doesn't stand. He gestures toward a patch of shade under a mango tree.]

Madhukar (softly):

If you're tired of chasing relief, you may be ready for the truth.

---

PART ONE: A FAMILY OF STRANGE SYMPTOMS

Sadanand (grumbling):

I can’t hear half the time. The eye pressure keeps rising. The doctors say it’s all age-related.

Madhukar:

And what is age supposed to do?

Make you blind, deaf, and drugged?

Or turn you wise, light, and still?

Rukmini:

I can’t pass stool without tablets. And this itching never goes. I apply creams thrice a day.

Madhukar:

Your bowels are blocked because your truths are.

And your skin is screaming what your mouth never could.

---

PART TWO: WORKING BUT UNWELL

Ganesh:

I’ve been having dizzy spells. Sometimes my fingers go numb. The ENT said it’s my cervical nerves. I don’t even know what’s happening anymore.

Madhukar:

You’re not dizzy. You’re disoriented.

You’ve lived upside down for too long —

Swallowed lies, ignored instincts, sat 12 hours daily under false lights,

And you expect your nerves to remain calm?

Sarala:

My body hurts everywhere. Every muscle feels bruised. My jaw locks at night. I’ve been told it’s fibromyalgia.

Madhukar:

That’s not a disease. That’s the result of 30 years of suppressed “no.”

You bit your tongue too often. Now your body bites back.

---

PART THREE: THE TEACHER WHO NEVER EXPRESSED

Prabha:

I keep getting ulcers in my mouth. And piles too. There’s this pressure in my pelvis I can’t explain.

Madhukar:

The body always explains — in symptoms.

Mouth ulcers are unsaid truths.

Piles are unreleased burdens.

Pelvic heaviness is the weight of unshed grief.

You’ve been leaking life force for years.

Quietly. Dutifully. Invisibly.

---

PART FOUR: YOUNG AND ALREADY CRACKING

Manju:

My eyes burn. My jaw tightens in sleep. Sex feels rushed. I’m only 26.

Madhukar:

You’ve never touched the earth.

You’ve only touched glass, keys, and timelines.

Your body is speeding up because your mind never rests.

Ejaculation is not the problem.

Evacuation is — you’ve never emptied your mind, your breath, your inherited pressure.

Asha:

I smell bad even after bathing. My hair falls in bunches. And my digestion is always off. Ultrasound showed gallbladder sludge.

Madhukar:

That’s not sludge. That’s stuck emotion, fake politeness, and food you never truly chewed.

And smell? That’s the truth leaving your pores.

No deodorant can fix what your lifestyle refuses to admit.

Revathi:

I get nosebleeds. I feel weak in buses. I can’t run without panting.

Madhukar:

You don’t lack strength.

You lack rhythm.

You eat without hunger.

Sleep with screens.

Study without joy.

Bleeding nose is just your body’s way of pressing “pause.”

---

PART FIVE: TRUTH DOESN’T NEED A PRESCRIPTION

Madhukar (after a long pause):

You’re not ill.

You’re just over-managed.

Under-touched.

Never heard.

Never fasted.

Never rested.

And surrounded by people who think feeling bad is “normal.”

Sadanand:

So what should we do? We’ve taken pills for decades.

Madhukar:

Then stop calling it medicine.

Start calling it dependency.

And begin observing instead of reacting.

---

PART SIX: STARTING TO REMEMBER

Madhukar (pointing to his own body):

This body has walked hundreds of miles without shoes.

It eats what grows.

Sleeps by the stars.

Bathes in the wind.

Weighs no food. Measures no calories.

And never thinks about protein.

Ganesh (in disbelief):

But can we do that now? With our jobs, city life, responsibilities?

Madhukar:

You can’t do everything.

But you can subtract a few poisons.

Here’s where you start:

1. No food after sunset.

2. No lying about your emotions.

3. One barefoot walk every day.

4. One screen-free day a week.

5. Fast one day with just fruit or kanji.

6. Replace all products with coconut oil, shikakai, and turmeric.

7. Poop without strain. Sleep without TV.

8. Observe your body’s smallest whisper.

9. Say no when you mean no.

10. Call your fatigue by its real name — confusion.

---

Asha (quietly):

This is not what we expected.

Madhukar:

That’s how you know it’s true.

Because truth never arrives in capsules.

Revathi:

Will our symptoms go away?

Madhukar:

They will leave you — when you leave what created them.

---

[No one says a word. Rukmini removes her gold bangles. Ganesh folds his phone and slides it into his pocket. Manju walks over and touches the soil. For the first time in years, the family is not speaking the language of diseases. They are listening to their silence.]

---

---

ACT 4 — THREE MONTHS LATER

[Scene: The same mud house. This time, the family walks in with no handbags, no plastic bottles, no perfumes. They are dusty, smiling awkwardly, and walking slower — like the land is speaking to their feet.]

Sadanand (grinning):

I don’t take sleeping pills anymore. I fall asleep with the frogs.

Rukmini:

My bowels empty without pain. I planted coriander and sing to it.

Ganesh:

No more numbness. I resigned from the desk job. I cycle for deliveries now. Happiest three months of my life.

Sarala:

My jaw hasn’t locked in weeks. And I told my sister I was angry — without guilt.

Prabha:

The ulcers stopped. I’ve started drawing again. I forgot I liked colours.

Manju:

I deleted social media. My breath slowed. My wife and I are able to just sit now — without rushing into anything.

Asha:

My scalp isn’t bleeding. My sweat smells like earth. And my stomach doesn’t gurgle when I eat raw guava.

Revathi:

I still bleed sometimes. But I can run now. I sing while doing so. Is that healing?

Madhukar (smiling):

That is remembering. Healing is just a side effect.

---

ACT 5 — ONE YEAR LATER

[Scene: A new gathering under the same neem tree. But this time, they’ve brought others — neighbours, friends, coworkers. Not to preach. Just to walk together. The transformation is now a lifestyle, not a recovery project.]

Ganesh now leads a soil-walk group for retired men.

Sarala teaches floor sitting and clay cooking to urban ladies.

Rukmini and Sadanand host full moon fasts with folk songs.

Prabha runs a “No Diagnosis Book Club.”

Manju and Asha are expecting a child — with no scans, only trust.

Revathi started a barefoot youth circle in her school.

Nobody talks about “disease” anymore.

They talk about heat, hunger, bowel texture, tree shade, grief, and joy.

They don’t say “I’m cured.”

They say: “I live.”

---

Madhukar (sitting alone with his daughters):

They didn’t change because of advice.

They changed because they saw.

And once you see — truly see —

You cannot go back to blind living.

---

---

"YOU CALLED IT LIFE"

(a Bukowski-style poem for Madhukar’s visitors)

you called it life.

pills at sunrise, reports at noon, ointments before bed—

you called that discipline.

you called that “normal aging.”

you wore diseases like honorary degrees—

"BP runs in the family,"

"thyroid is common these days,"

"everyone has stress,"

and the loudest one:

"at least I’m managing it."

but your bowels were locked

your nerves were screaming

your sex felt like a deadline

your sleep came only with chemicals

your food was fear-wrapped

your skin itched for silence

your breath forgot how to arrive.

still, you said—

"this is just part of life."

no.

this is part of being

dead before burial.

you walked into Madhukar’s yard

with your jars of denial,

your backup inhalers,

your three generations of confused pride

and you expected turmeric pills, some herbal tea

and a permission slip to continue pretending.

instead—

he handed you

a mirror.

not the shiny kind.

the kind made of mud and breath and bare feet.

the kind that doesn’t flatter.

the kind that tells you:

you are the author

of every ulcer, every cramp, every collapse.

and you called him rude.

called him unscientific.

because he told you

your mouth ulcers were silenced truths

your piles were sitting on your pain too long

your tinnitus was the noise of your own lies

your vertigo was ego spinning in circles

your jaw was locked from all the swallowed NOs

your fatigue was not deficiency—

but defeat,

your hair fall was grief exiting your scalp

your sleep disorder was just your conscience refusing to lie still.

you expected medicine.

he offered rhythm.

you wanted cures.

he gave you soil.

and you hated it—

at first.

then slowly

you removed your shoes.

you walked barefoot for the first time not on marble

but on something real.

you chewed your food

like your life depended on it.

you let the sunset mean something.

you let your bowel teach you about shame.

you fasted and finally tasted hunger

not in the belly,

but in the soul.

your body

that old, tired, disrespected thing

it didn’t need treatment.

it needed you

to get the hell out of the way.

and now look at you—

you smile without reason.

you shit without tablets.

you sweat and it smells like courage.

you cry and it’s not a symptom.

you sleep like the world is fine.

you don’t ask about proteins anymore.

you don’t touch reports.

you don’t ask “what to eat?”

you ask “why was I eating at all?”

your family album

used to be filled with MRI scans,

now it’s full of footprints in wet mud.

you didn’t heal.

you came back to life.

which is harder.

uglier.

but real.

and now when someone asks

how you reversed all those symptoms,

you look them in the eye and say:

“I stopped believing in them.”

---