So when you’re going abroad for a longish time, you’re supposed to get all your dental work done before you leave. And coincidentally, the half-fallen filling that was happily making do in your tooth decides to act up around the same time. So you VOLUNTARILY (yes! How asinine can you get?) go to a dentist to have things done about it. You call up a hospital (2 bucks for the phonecall) and go to the OPD (100 bucks of your dad’s hard-earned money for the masochistic pleasure of having a doctor poke your injured tooth and see the reaction in a small round mirror).
On the way to the hospital, I was all edgy and fretty (my word), and I decided to switch on the car radio and take the next song that played as a cosmic sign of what lay in store for me.
Radio Mirchi was playing “Ik pal ka jeena, phir to hai jaana”
I burst into laughter. It is a confused mind’s way of bursting into tears.
“Are you comfortable?” the doc asked me as soon as I told him what my problem was (no, not the one about my compulsive need to be sarcastic, the one about the half fallen filling). “Has anyone EVER been comfortable in this chair of yours?” was my reply.
This is a trick test that all my doctors have to go through. If they laugh, I’m happy (as happy as I can be under the given situation). If they smile, I pull through. This guy made no reaction. He was poker-faced. That spells trouble. A comatose porcupine has a better sense of humor. (Ok. I overdid that. I’m hyperventilating: forgive me. You’re not the one in the dentist’s chair, you smug pests!)
So he did the needle and mirror routine, and uttered the two words that make my innards shrivel up and dehydrate and turn into an uncooked pack of Maggi 2-minute noodles, with my brain as a the Masala Tastemaker.
On Friday, I am having a root canal.
I thought accidental admissions to fancy universities, inexplicable finger twitches, and root canals happen to other people. But no. They all happen to me.
Stay tuned for Friday’s follow up entry:“…and nothing but the tooth”