How this Indian mum with breast cancer turned to yoga and love to survive – and thrive

For Mumbai resident Aarti Pathak, 2021 was memorable for all the wrong reasons. She lost her mother to Covid-19 in June, then, weeks later, was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. The economics professor turned writer and editor credits yoga, Ayurveda (traditional Indian medicine) and her deep religious faith for helping her face cancer with calmness, equanimity and grace, enabling her to heal. Pathak chronicled her journey in a memoir called Triple Negative: A Tale of Love, Faith and Surrender, which was published this year. She discovered a lump in her breast soon after her mother’s death. “I was in shock at losing my mother and had barely begun grieving her loss. It is strange, but the grief that followed insulated me from the shock of the cancer diagnosis,” the 46-year-old says. She had a mammogram, a sonogram and a fine needle aspiration cytology (FNAC) procedure to test for cancer. When the FNAC results confirmed it was cancer, she had a lumpectomy. The biopsy showed stage IIA triple-negative breast cancer, or TNBC. “The results came as a jolt,” Pathak says. “I had somehow prepared myself to fight cancer, but not TNBC, which is one of the most dangerous forms of breast cancer, requiring aggressive treatment to contain it, with high chances of recurrence.” Her husband Rohit’s calmness and conviction gave her confidence that she would be all right. Still, Pathak had lots of questions. “When should I start chemotherapy? How many sessions will I need? Will my arms function as before? I understood that while I could not control the uncertainties of life, I could control the way I responded to them. “Being informed was a way to get a sense of control. I did not want pity. I wanted to remain who I was and face cancer head-on.” Humour played a special role in her journey. Soon after a PET scan in which mildly radioactive “tracer” substances were used, Pathak said to her husband, “I will not succumb to cancer. I will be active throughout the treatment.” He replied, “Of course you will be active, you are already radioactive.” Pathak underwent chemotherapy and radiation therapy from June to December 2021. She endured side effects, including debilitating body aches, intense fatigue, difficulty breathing and hot flushes. Losing her hair was emotionally trying. After finding strands of hair on her pillow, clothes and the floor, she decided it was time to shave her head. “Being bald felt both ugly and that I was stamped with cancer. It took me a few days to accept it,” she says. The solution was to order several wigs. “When they arrived, I opened the packet with apprehension. Carefully, I placed one wig over my head, and then I smiled,” she says. Pathak says the love and support of family and friends enabled her to endure her cancer journey. “Because of my husband’s love and presence, I did not worry about myself at all. My mother-in-law took control of the home. The children grew up overnight. Taking a cue from the elders at home, they too slipped into roles of responsibility. “My 13-year-old maintained a meticulous Excel sheet tracking my weekly blood values, with colour-coded highlights for quick insights, telling me, ‘See this dip, that’s when you skipped your juice, and this surge happened after you started it again.’ “My 11-year-old, though quiet, was observant. Once he heard me remark about the absence of my eyebrows and replied promptly, ‘Even Mona Lisa does not have eyebrows.’” At a friend’s recommendation, Pathak read Love, Medicine and Miracles by Bernie Siegel. “The book chronicles the journeys of people who healed themselves from life-threatening illnesses solely with the power of their minds. I thought, if they can heal themselves with the power of their mind, surely, I can heal myself with my mind and medicine,” she says. Pathak also consulted an Ayurvedic doctor, Mridu Gupta, who advised her to drink a juice made of tulsi (holy basil), neem (margosa), wheatgrass and giloy (Indian quinine, or moon creeper) to minimise the toxic effects of chemotherapy. A vegetarian, Pathak ate home-cooked food that was easy to digest, and cut out fried and processed food. She maintains a nutritious diet, including moong dal chilla (a protein-rich pancake made from lentils), pulses and cooked vegetables accompanied by bhakri (flatbread made from millet) or quinoa. To ensure she gets enough protein, she eats tofu and kala chana (black chickpeas). Pathak and her husband began practising yoga and pranayama (breathwork) with a teacher at home every morning. “It was the best decision we made,” Pathak says, adding that it “infused new life into our lives”. She learned different types of breathwork, including anulom vilom (alternate nostril breathing), sitali (the cooling breath) and brahmari (humming bee breath). “Conscious, deep breaths brought me to the present,” she says. “I calmed myself with each pause, and I surrendered with each exhalation. For months, I relied on sitali to reduce the heat in my body caused by chemotherapy.” Brahmari remains her favourite breathing practice. “As I went deeper and deeper into brahmari, I visualised the cells in my body vibrating their way to wellness. The pranayama would end with the chanting of Om, and the vibrations filled every cell in my body with happiness. If Om can create the universe, it can surely heal me,” Pathak says. To recover from surgery, her teacher taught her simple asanas – positions or poses – to get her arms moving and her spine erect. Pathak chanted the Hanuman Chalisa, a devotional hymn written by the 16th-century poet Tulsidas in praise of the Hindu deity Hanuman, multiple times daily. “The Chalisa became our daily prayer as a couple, and we sang it together. As I sang it, I felt a deep connection with the divine. When I grew weak and chanting became impossible, I would play it on my phone and immerse myself in it. The words filled me with courage and divine joy,” she says. Two years before her diagnosis, Pathak had started reading the Shri Ramcharitmanas, an epic poem composed by Tulsidas in praise of the Hindu god Ram. The poem taught her that life is maya, an illusion. “It gave me a sense of detachment from what I was going through,” she says. All through her treatment, she kept notes. “I used to journal; it helped me process my feelings. Those notes naturally evolved into the book,” she says. “I am grateful to be able to share my journey with others.” Pathak’s biggest lesson has been that we can find strength when we least expect it, and the most difficult trials can lead to growth. “Love strengthens, faith uplifts and surrender liberates,” she says. Like what you read? Follow SCMP Lifestyle on Facebook, X and Instagram. You can also sign up for our eNewsletter here.

How this Indian mum with breast cancer turned to yoga and love to survive – and thrive

.css-1c6uqr6{color:inherit;font-weight:inherit;font-size:inherit;font-family:inherit;line-height:inherit;overflow-wrap:break-word;}Aarti Pathak was diagnosed with breast cancer weeks after losing her mum. She shares her survival story, which she wrote about in a memoir

Aarti Pathak was diagnosed with breast cancer weeks after losing her mum. She shares her survival story, which she wrote about in a memoir