Wisdom lost and gained!

Ok, don't be aghast! That title was to add shock value (and gain a few pageviews I suppose :P).

I am talking about my visit to the dentist few months ago when I had my wisdom teeth extraction. The poor teeth had given up all hope of me taking good care of them and had spoiled beyond all redemption and rescue. Blame it on my incorrigible liking for chocolates and sweets but stubborn that I am, I will definitely not give up the habit!:) Or it could be because they are located so far behind in a weird position, what is my toothbrush to do? Of course, I definitely prefer removal of unused (respect the dead/lost; lets not call them "useless"!), crooked and nearly invisible wisdom teeth to losing my canines and looking like a "postbox"(the term used in school to tease you when you lost your baby teeth:)).

So, anyway, after about a week of slight nagging pain and one night of unbearable pain, I decided it was high time and visited the "feared" dental clinic. Ok, fear is a strong word. Lets say, I blame much of my discomfort to having had RCTs ("Root Canal Treatment" for the uninitiated. I learned this was a way of sounding cool from the junior doc at the clinic :)) way back in school and some weird but bang-on and memorable poems from school-http://www.ee.nus.edu.sg/~teokh/dentist.html

So, there I was, staring at the X-ray while the junior doc made a long list of issues and consequently, treatments needed to correct them while I was just hoping their "special offers for Women's Month" would help me salvage the upcoming hole in my pocket!

After deciding that extraction was inevitable, it was scheduled for late evening. I grudgingly agreed after being told that the surgeon had his day full and couldn't make it before then. So, then, after enduring pain all day and having a really early dinner, I drove down at the appointed hour only to be told that the doc would be a few minutes late. Sometime later, I was guided to the operating room, done up in an interesting shade of pink and was told to be seated at the semi-reclining operating chair and given a disposable apron to wear on top of my clothes lest saliva, blood or whatever else spilt on them. As I was sitting there for a few minutes twiddling my thumbs, in walked Dr.Goodlooking :) To add to the good looks, he was also polite and charming contrary to the bossy, I-am-too-busy-and-important kind I was expecting. Then comes the start of the "zor ka jhatka dheere se laga" series that my newly awakened college-girl drooling avatar would endure during the evening:) Doc PR (initials only for fear that someone chances upon this post; it is a small world after all) held up an annoying concave mirror and there, in enlarged focus were my wisdom teeth in totally decayed condition. I still can't believe they had turned brownish black!:( There goes all the impression I tried to create. Dr.PR was playing the perfect chivalrous gentleman that evening. This put me at ease and I didn't die of shame. But one weird thought did cross my mind. When an engineer or architect dates or marries, he or she isn't actually going to gauge the prospective spouse or date's knowledge or skills. But isn't it an entirely different ballgame for doctors? Take Dr.PR for instance. If he is considering an alliance or date, would the thought cross his mind on how much care does the dame bestow on her pearly whites? Would the condition of the teeth help him gauge the girl's personality or character?If he does take these factors into consideration, I pity him because it is really rare to find a set of perfect pearly whites and if he does, will the rest of the person be as adorable? That is a remote possibility.
Anyway, back to the dentist's operating table, Dr.PR took a long while; maybe he wasn't as skilled as he was handsome. :P As I mentioned earlier, my wisdom teeth were in a weird twisted position. So, he had to drill my teeth into little pieces and take them out. By the end of it, I was totally in discomfort what with cottony mouth and increasing awareness of pain as the anesthesia effect started to gradually wear away. That probably explains my faux pas-when the exhausted Dr.PR said, "It was a pleasure operating on you", I was convinced he was being insincere or sarcastic or both and retorted, "I am not sure I can say the same". After all, dude, what pleasure could you have possibly derived from operating on a behenji with dreadful teeth? Thankfully, Dr.PR ignored or maybe pretended not to hear my retort and walked away-God bless him! The teeth did put up a hard fight for the week thereafter too with swelling and pain but anyway, that's a story for another day. Good luck, Dr.PR with your soulmate-beautiful teeth, looks, heart and all!

The death of the Hanky

The other day, my son's teacher asked us to send a handkerchief with him to school everyday. As I hunted in vain around the house for the non-existent entity, I could not help but wonder how times have changed.

Gone are the days when Mommy neatly folded a square-shaped handkerchief, or hanky as we liked to call it, into a triangle and pinned it up alongwith with the nameplate/id on the shirt or uniform. The faithful hanky stood by you through thick and thin, whether it was wiping your dripping nose and cleaning your messy mouth after those counteless "pepsies" (not the drink, the ice-lolly's ancestor I mean) and at the end of the day, it helped mommy piece together the puzzle of what you had been upto all day in school! At the movies, the handkerchief also helped many-a-desperate loverboys break the ice with the pretty women they were pursuing by subtly falling down when the woman walked past her silent admirer prompting him to be gallant and giving him courage," Maaf kijiye, yeh... shaayad aapka rumaal wahaan gir gaya..."/"Excuse me, I think you dropped your handkerchief"! Aww...how simple were those days when just picking up books that fell when you bumped into each other or returning the carelessly-dropped handkerchief was enough to kindle the romance! So many songs inspired by the "rumaal"-"sir par topi lal haath mein resham ka rumaal haaye tere kya kehna!", the most cheesy one being "Haathon mein aa gaya jo kal rumaal aapka". And then, it was also mommy's tool to teach her little girl the fine art of embroidery! Generations of girls have made a start with embroidering pretty summer dahlias, orchids and roses on their handkerchiefs. You could also add on your initials to proclaim that it was your custom-made kerchief and also to help future beaus guess your name :p Better still, a few drops of your favorite perfume and you have your guy hooked for life (gross :P)

Cut to recent and present times, "rumaal" and hanky are old school, use a tissue, you fool! Oh,ya, no headache of washing for reuse. Use it and throw it. No regrets of losing a pretty embroidered one, supposedly better hygiene IFF you dispose of the tissue appropriately. At present, a girl with an embroidered handkerchief is not hep or cool enough. She could be the demure, clingy damsel-in-distress material if you are contemplating matrimony but seriously, even then, wouldn't you rather prefer a glam girl capable of later becoming a "yummy mommy"?

All said and done, personally, yes, the tissue is practical but oh! I miss the cuteness of the pinned square hanky and romance of the rumaal! sigh...:)

Dilli!

Revisited the capital of India after 5 years and came away with a very good opinion. Here are a few good things:

Metro: best thing to happen to the city. The roads (good at a few places; quite bad at a few others) are at last relieved of so much pressure. Found the Metro very efficient-quick, clean, economical, scaleable. Hats off really! Waiting for the time when the metro will be completed and running in my city:( Of course, how the amazing Sridharan sir managed to get the project completed in time in the land of babus is the stuff worthy of legends!

Akshardham: The history of the Guru Gujaratis revere notwithstanding, one important takeaway was the showcase of our glorious past and the encouragement to carry on the legacy and create history that we can be proud of. Also found the security, cleanliness and crowd management quite efficient. I really wonder how terrorists could even manage to sneak in a bomb at this place. Heck, my son's Rs.5 toy car was not allowed in! How I managed to convince the kind security ladies to keep it safe until we returned from inside Akshardham is another story.

Kingdom of Dreams and Zangoora, the Gypsy Prince: Very interesting concept, quintessential Bollywood, superb execution, brilliant set design (trademark Omung Kumar) and of course, Hussain (aww...). Kind of an Indianised Broadway show. Heard they are heading to Vegas soon. Good luck!

The Culture Galli concept is good though there is some room for improvement of the inventory.

All in all, India is definitely learning the ropes of marketing well. Great attempt at showcasing India and hope to see it evolving much more. Zangoora & the Kingdom of Dreams, take a bow:)