When I lived in India, in Andheri, Mumbai, it seemed that mosquitoes were more attracted to me than to anyone else. As soon as I moved into my husband Suresh's house, they chased me wherever I went.

It was no surprise to anyone when I became ill with malaria and a high fever.  However, a Western trained doctor soon cured me with a horrible, bitter-tasting medicine. After that, I suffered from headaches, the likes of which I’d never experienced before.

The next few months were fine as I adjusted to the heat, to a new marriage, and to my sisters-in-law. I had a wonderful time, learning a little of Gujarati (one of many regional languages of India).

However, the mosquitoes came at me again and again, until it reached the point where I got hysterical every time I encountered malaria. Altogether, in my first year, I had the disease five times.

We decided to move to Juhu Beach,  to see if it might be better for me.. At that time, the beach looked clean, and I swam with a neighbor in the Arabian Sea every day. Still, the day came when it seemed a wall came crashing down on my head. Unbearable pain and a fever of 104  degrees brought me close to death.  I refused the bitter quinine medicine, because it obviously had not helped before.

One night, when my husband , a sound engineer, was at work at the film studio, a neighbor came, saw my condition, and left quickly. She had a car and drove to Andheri, our former neighborhood, and brought back a homeopathic doctor.

I doubted him, as he bent toward me with white bushy hair. His first words were," You have no faith in anyone, do you?"

That seemed silly to me, but he became extremely serious. "My dear, I can cure you. I have been a doctor for many years, and my spiritual meditation often gives me the answer of what to do with my patients."

I closed my eyes. My neighbor whispered, "Do you not know that this man is known all over India for his curative powers? He learns from his studies and hours of meditation each day. You are honored to have him come to you". It took quite a bit of convincing. I kept quiet.

It didn't matter much to me --the pain in my head and the burning from fever in my body had my full attention.

The old man now unfolded a piece of paper he had held in his hand. Inside were gold, herbs, and other healing medicines, all put together by him.  He simply opened my mouth and poured the powdery mixture in. My neighbor gave me water. My eyes were closed.

Both of them began to chant and meditate with some mantra over and over again. Their voices merged and sounded like a bell.          

I don't know to this day how long it took, but I became aware of listening intently to the meditation and realized all the pain was gone. They took my temperature, and it was normal.

The doctor, whose name was Dr. Desai, stood up, and told us he would return in the morning. I wanted to thank him, but he waved his hand away. My neighbor drove him back to Andheri.

What had he done? He had to be a genius, I thought. Had I been rude to him? Would he teach me meditation? But as these thoughts whirled around and around, they suddenly stopped, and I fell asleep.

When my husband returned from the studio, he learned the whole story, and he was very grateful and impressed that Dr. Desai would come such a long distance to see me. We had no idea how wonderful he was, and how much he would become a part of our lives.

He advised us about our health by simply taking our wrist in his hand to give a diagnosis. He meditated, he told me, for six hours a day. A few years after our first meeting, his family came to tell us that he had died. They said he was in perfect health at the age of 75 years, but he felt he had given all he could, and needed to learn more.

I believe that this doctor's skills came not only from his spiritual being, but from his constant meditation, during which he searched for the truth. If we go deeply into ourselves during meditation, and have an intention, we might find ourselves in as peaceful a place as Dr. Desai did.

We, too, can detach from daily bombardments of advertisements, the noise of our incessant machinery, and find a quiet place to go to where we won't be disturbed.

Perhaps you won't reach the amazing accomplishments of the doctor, but you will reach places you never realized were yours to visit.

Whether it was the herbs and medicines the doctor gave me, the meditation, or a combination of both, I found relief from malaria. I’d never considered that meditation might help my body fight against malaria. I’m not recommending that meditation on its own can cure disease, but in conjunction with professional medical advice, it can do wonders.

Having meditated for several years, I can say that it has had an enormous benefit to my physical and emotional health. There’s a reason why even doctors recommend meditating for at least 20 minutes a day.

Learn the power of meditation at Art of Living’s Sahaj Samadhi Meditation Program.

By Margot Webb - An expert meditation author and a teacher. She learned meditation in India. She was also coordinator of integration in a school in a large city and worked with students who came every day carrying their private problems with them. At 90, she enjoys music and the warmth of friendships thanks to her meditation practice.