Teeth are a man's (and
woman's) best friend.
The 32 strong
soldiers chew and break the food to taste and satiate our hunger pangs
prompting us to say, "food for soul". Not a big deal. But ask a
toothless person as what pleasure it is to crunch a piece of walnut.
But when one of the
soldier reports sick, the body machinery breaks down and goes for a toss. Clove
oil is grandma's home remedy for toothache.
I envy the toddlers
who pose for cameras with their toothless smiles.
A dentist's chair is
not a snug place to be in. I imagine myself waiting for electrocution. My whole
body becomes taut and tense. My mind is a battlefield where the soldiers are
attacking each other with spears and swords. Each stare or glare of the dentist
into the dungeon of my jaw, pricks and pains me to hell and I would prefer death
to extraction or root canal.
I worship my thirty
and two pearlies and regular ritual of brushing and flossing is sacrosanct. Yet
I am punished for no fault of mine. Sweets and desserts, an
irresistible part of my culinary delight have been curtailed due to
fear of damage to the inmates of my mouth. A sweet tooth is replaced with a
weak tooth.
When the glossy
newsprints advertisements and the television commercials flaunt the toothpastes
promising to heal sensitive tooth, my heart nay my teeth jump with joy. But the
umpteen rub of the aqua blue peppermint paste leaves my sensitive teeth even
worse. And I have an inclination to sue the toothpaste companies.
The toothbrush
companies too are not far behind to extract their pound of flesh of my
vulnerable mind. The bristles of the tooth brush placed at various angles
promise of reaching the most difficult area of the tooth to leave it sparkling clean
and fresh but does not promise a miss to the dentist's clinic.
A visit to the dental
boutique drills a big hole in my pocket and my purse is lighter. The filling of
a tooth curtails my visit to my favourite coffee-shop. The budget of a
dental crown does not cast a regal look on me. A root canal uproots the tree of
my savings.
I enter into the
dentist's den as a lamb pushed to the altar of sacrifice.
For Yeah Write # 194
Word count : 390
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