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