I, like countless others was moulded into near perfection by the powers-that-be, with a snag ... No teeth.
In childhood I felt it an absolute waste to give my teeth to the cologne bathed orthodontist when the tooth fairy could always exchange it for the toy engine I wanted. But opinions were not wanted or asked for as I was virtually dragged to the plush waiting rooms of the family tooth graveyard. Later in life when I was making enough to get by, a faithful molar decided to pack its bags and be replaced by cheap ceramic.
A car needs regular servicing .. teeth shouldn't. ( Every three months, or 300 meals, whichever first, clove oil and toothbrush change.)
The waiting room was teeming with people as I picked up an outrageously outdated magazine. “Believe me, that was up to date when I came in”, a man next to me remarked. Unnerved, I leafed through the pages while observing people going into the cabin heavy-footed and emerging light-pocketed. I was wondering how much greenery would I have to shell out, when my name was called. Names of all the Hindu gods I knew, flashed through my mind as I invoked them for protection and entered.
“Hello son, after a long time ,eh?” he yapped, trying to update me on the recent political events and his opinions. My ear throbbed with the constant humdrum of his droning voice as he peered into my mouth.
"I dont think your insurance covers this". That made me listen again.
“The plaque has infested the upper molars ... It’ll need the Novcaine shot and the , extraction apparatus please ...... Did you now my son is starting in Cornell this Fall?”, he chatted. I sat up imagining my hard-earneds paying for Medieval Literature 101. “Excuse me, I’ll be back.” ,as I scrambled to the exit ... fortooth! I wasn’t going to pay for his sons education.
The evening was cool as I rounded off the corner and bumped into a the toughest individual I’d ever seen. “Looking for trouble, mayn?”, his heavy voice floated to my eardrums as a brainwave flashed through me.”
“Yeah”, I said. ... “do you know you're so ugly, they'll give you a permanent job at the freak show?”
“Oh yeah...”, he said , raising his fist,
And that's how I got it done for free.
Note: This was something written for a school essay (1995), posted with minor changes(to reduce my embarassment). Reproduced in the honour of a recent root canal.
In childhood I felt it an absolute waste to give my teeth to the cologne bathed orthodontist when the tooth fairy could always exchange it for the toy engine I wanted. But opinions were not wanted or asked for as I was virtually dragged to the plush waiting rooms of the family tooth graveyard. Later in life when I was making enough to get by, a faithful molar decided to pack its bags and be replaced by cheap ceramic.
A car needs regular servicing .. teeth shouldn't. ( Every three months, or 300 meals, whichever first, clove oil and toothbrush change.)
The waiting room was teeming with people as I picked up an outrageously outdated magazine. “Believe me, that was up to date when I came in”, a man next to me remarked. Unnerved, I leafed through the pages while observing people going into the cabin heavy-footed and emerging light-pocketed. I was wondering how much greenery would I have to shell out, when my name was called. Names of all the Hindu gods I knew, flashed through my mind as I invoked them for protection and entered.
“Hello son, after a long time ,eh?” he yapped, trying to update me on the recent political events and his opinions. My ear throbbed with the constant humdrum of his droning voice as he peered into my mouth.
"I dont think your insurance covers this". That made me listen again.
“The plaque has infested the upper molars ... It’ll need the Novcaine shot and the , extraction apparatus please ...... Did you now my son is starting in Cornell this Fall?”, he chatted. I sat up imagining my hard-earneds paying for Medieval Literature 101. “Excuse me, I’ll be back.” ,as I scrambled to the exit ... fortooth! I wasn’t going to pay for his sons education.
The evening was cool as I rounded off the corner and bumped into a the toughest individual I’d ever seen. “Looking for trouble, mayn?”, his heavy voice floated to my eardrums as a brainwave flashed through me.”
“Yeah”, I said. ... “do you know you're so ugly, they'll give you a permanent job at the freak show?”
“Oh yeah...”, he said , raising his fist,
And that's how I got it done for free.
Note: This was something written for a school essay (1995), posted with minor changes(to reduce my embarassment). Reproduced in the honour of a recent root canal.
No comments:
Post a Comment