Deadly Gallows

It had been very painful. I couldn't take it anymore. I was done. I couldn't eat or sleep for days. Most of the nights I twitched and whimpered in my bed in agony. I cried in pain.

That's when I knew I had to go for tooth extraction.

'Oh!' was the only expression given by my boss when I sought leave for dentist's appointment for tooth extraction.

'What?' I asked defensively.

'No... I mean, I have never had it myself but I heard it hurts.' he said with an air of sympathy he might have shown to someone who has just been diagnosed with cancer.

How tactless one could have been! As if I wasn't already scared.

My experiences with dentists had been limited to cavity fillings and even though they are apparently painless, the feeling of pressure on teeth while drilling hole through them is totally unwelcome to me. So this time when I knew my tooth had no hope of being saved, I braced myself for extraction. I collected experiences of almost everyone I knew who went through the same ordeal. I pestered everyone with a single question, 'How much does it hurt?'

While my parents convinced me that it hurts only a little and it would be fine, I knew by experience that 'only a little' could be a relative term and also from the fact that my sister who had already had an extraction simpered at the phrase used by my parents, I concluded that it won't be easy. The only convincing and realistic advice was- 'Oh it sure hurts but it won't last more than 30 seconds. And remember, that will be the end of the pain from that tooth. You will live happily ever after.'

With my heart beating frantically with trepidation and my brain advising me to run and hide while I could, I queued up at my dentist's clinic. That's the moment I knew what Arjun meant by ' सीदन्ति मम गात्राणि, मुखं च परिशुष्यते ।' in Bhagavadgeeta. A scene at a dentist clinic always reminds me of an operation theatre or an interview process where everyone in the queue is restless and have that typical expression on their faces as if they are heading to the gallows for execution.

Once I was inside, I submitted myself in that chair with all horrible instruments attached to it. I tried to look elsewhere just to notice syringes nearby.

'Just do it.' I requested my dentist mustering whatever little courage was left in me.

To my surprise, the needle pierced the gum with almost no pain. I heaved a sigh of relief once it was done. As I waited for 15 minutes for the anesthesia to take effect, I pictured myself getting to live my life without toothache. 30 seconds of pain and it will be fine, I told myself.

He started getting his instruments ready. Several pliers (not sure of what that deadly weapon is called) big and small. They landed up with a soft metallic thud on a tray in front of me. I prayed to as many gods I could remember and closed my eyes shut.

Then the weirdest pain in my life came. He held my tooth in the pliers and pulled it with an increasing amount of force. I shuddered and screamed. The dentist continued mercilessly. (Dentists are devils!) As I was almost on the verge of crying, the most ominous sound came. The sound of a tooth cracking. As expected, now he pulled at three different locations around the tooth till he got the broken pieces out. The pain pulsated till my brain and spread to ears, eyes and it almost felt like some part of my brain was out instead of a tooth.

'It's almost done!' the dentist consoled and I thought the use of the world almost wasn't really soothing.

Finally the pulling seemed to stop and I opened my eyes. Being alive felt great but I was shaking from head to feet. It took me full 2 minutes to get up from the chair. I had the sicksweet taste of blood in mouth and the numb side of my face still felt tingly.

How I paid the dentist and how I came out are vague parts of the nightmarish incident. With cotton held between the teeth, I grabbed one of the seats amongst the waiting patients. I realized they were all already staring at me and I was sure they had heard me screaming. Some of them even gave me sympathetic smiles that were meant to console me. I could hardly return a smile.

I still taste blood as I write this post. Still out of habit- just as one's mind repeatedly goes to the people they miss, I try to touch my tooth with tongue only to realize it's no longer there. (Okay that was a really unromantic analogy). But honestly I can't wait to be able to eat normally.

And yes, those who think that the heartbreak is the worst kind of pain one could have, might not have experienced toothache. I take an opportunity here to thank all the dentists for putting up with the stereotypical opinions people have about them and still free them from their pain.

Now that I am sleeping with a sigh of relief, why do I feel a little tingling pain on my other tooth!!?!

Apocalypse

August 2012.

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"Look what I got!" she nudged him and showed him a message she had just received, that joked something about the possibly sudden population increase nine months after 21st December 2012.

He laughed. "Hilarious!!! Do you think the world would end on 21st December?"

She smiled and averted her eyes from him.

"I don't think so. They all make it sound like that." she shrugged and continued in a low voice, "I kinda want it to end."

"What!" he asked her incredulously, exactly the reaction she had expected, "Are you mad! How cynical could you be! Honestly, I don't want the world to end. I want to live with you for quite a long time. For a lifetime!"

She wished for the same. To spend her entire lifetime with him. She could foresee the hurdles though. She was scared. She knew that the plans of the destiny are way too twisted to be understood by mere mortals like them... There were so many what-ifs that clouded her prefect sense of happiness several times. She wasn't confused about their decision, her choice. The fear of what future would unfold plagued her mind. A possible future without him. A possible future being alone... The same stupid fear that made her heart beat unevenly every time they hung up the phone after night-long calls or every time she waved him bye from her window whenever he accompanied her on her way home...

She did not say anything. She kept her gaze fixed on her own fingers entwined in his.

"Say something!" he said pressing her palm gently.

"Maybe I am a pessimist. You say you want to live with me. I say I don't want to live without you." she managed to say finally, "I don't know what future holds. The end of the world would probably be the end of my doubts... I would love to freeze in this moment. Right here with you... I don't want to see the future. I am totally happy in present." She said all that in a rush and coiled tightly around his arm as though to stop him from running away.

He roared with laughter. She gave him an unsmiling, reproachful look.

"You are mad. It doesn't make me feel good you thinking like this. Don't you trust me?" he asked fixing his eyes on hers.

She loved his conviction, the sense of security his self-confidence radiated. She had always loved that about him.

"I do." she said nodding serenely, "I just don't trust the fate." she whispered the later in a barely audible voice.

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July 2014

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The world has ended- but only her world. It all came crashing down at once. Now only the traces remain. She finds some wounded piece every now and then. In the form of some unwitting, unguarded moments when she calls someone with that one name just out of a diehard habit... Or when there are awkward offhand mentions of the painfully familiar places, people and incidents... Or when she instinctively grabs her phone to tell that very person something interesting that she comes across... Or when something in her heart moves uncomfortably with the waft of a familiar fragrance that she is sure she only imagines... Or sometimes when she simply breathes the air that almost always feels insufficient nowadays.

Salvation

She suffocated everywhere she went. She complained about it to everyone, but they all said she was the only one who felt it. The air always felt thick and breathing was a hard task for her. Whenever she entered a room or grabbed a seat in a bus or a car, she instinctively opened the windows hastily although it never seemed to help.

She knew it was something psychological more than physical. She sat with a pen and a paper in her hand, the tip of her pen touching the start of the line for a really long time, hands fidgeting with the pen. Her brain felt stale. She was sure there were so many things that were waiting to break free. It was a rare time in her life when Words failed her. She wrote something, read it again and made an impatient noise realizing it was not even close to the intensity and depth she had in her writing before. She tore the paper irritably and threw it away. It landed up on the floor already strewn with torn papers floating around carelessly. She buried her face in her palms and slumped in the chair.

She stashed the pen away. She snapped at everyone around as if it was their fault she could not write. Finally exasperated, she sat alone and closed her eyes. It was as if the ghosts of her thoughts were waiting for her to close her eyes. They swooped down on her, clawed her heart with their sharp nails, some lunged at her and started throttling her. She gasped for air, breathing hard, clenching fists, trying to muffle the terrible voices that rang in her ears... She would embrace the death if only it took her quickly but it just wouldn't...

"Don't get scared. Don't fight them." The Small Voice Inside Her Head told her, "It won't kill you. You know what? Write about them... Write for them..."

Tired as she already was, she gave up fighting at once. She let them all pounce on her. It was the only way to be strong, she thought, she would carry these scars proudly one day.

She opened her eyes and hurriedly grabbed the pen and a new sheet of paper. She wasn't herself anymore, the world around her did not exist now, she had lost her way, yet found it... As her pen moved fast on the paper, she saw the ink tracing letters on it. Words that came from apparently nowhere, there was no stopping today. She was emptying herself like the ink in her pen. The weight on her heart felt lighter after every sentence she wrote. All her tethered emotions had finally severed the binding ropes and broke out like bad blood gushing out of a gruesome wound...

There was silence now. She closed her eyes again and there was nothing that pounced on her. There she stood- staring at the paper that now held the ghosts inside her, trapped with the chains of Words...

"Finally, I could write!" her own voice sounded surprised to her. She felt liberated. Words were her ultimate saviors. She had tears of joy in her eyes.

A Skeleton

She opened her cupboard full of books. The usual smell of books greeted her. A content smile spread on her lips. She took several seconds to inhale and savour her favourite smell in the world and then started rummaging through the diaries, novels, thick books, study materials, notebooks to find the class notes she prepared a few days ago.

She searched all the shelves till she touched the smooth cover of a familiar book. She sighed. Her expressions suddenly turned grim. She crumpled in front of the open cupboard as though her knees had gone weak.

Her hands shook a little as she took the book in her hands. She caressed the smooth front cover with her fingertips. Slowly she opened the first page, where she knew it bore a message she had read a thousand times.. Till she had known it by heart and even after that. Those loving words that once- would make her stomach tingle with an inexplicable joy. Her treasure that, she always thought she would never forget to grab before running out of a burning house.

She could not read the words anymore. Her vision was blurred with the grief that suddenly shone in her eyes and her mind was clouded by the rush of the old memories.

She remembered the day when she had touched the book for the first time.

It only seemed like yesterday. As she unwrapped the gift, she cast loving glances at him. He was looking at her smiling, excited, rubbing his palms together... Egging her on to tear the wrapping fast...

She nearly screamed when she saw the book. 'My favourite book! I have always, Always wanted it!' She eyed it with avid eyes.

She turned a page and found his small handwriting that had traced a message in a corner.

'Thanks for coming in my life and making it Magical.'

She felt like the happiest girl in the world. 'It is the most awesome gift anyone could get me!' she told him as he took her in his arms.

She shook the memory off. She found herself shaking with rage. Before she knew what she was doing, she threw the book away with all the might she had, closed the cupboard with more force than required and moved to the window to stare into the silent starry night- the habit she recently took to.

She glanced back at the book stealthily. The front cover had got a fold. It lay open on the ground like a wounded soldier lying spread-eagled. She stared at the book she once loved, the book she knew she still loved. She couldn't take it anymore. She rushed and picked it up, closed it, straightened the front page with her palm carefully. With one long final look at it, she smelled it deeply closing her eyes. It did have that beautiful paper-like crisp smell in it. She opened the cupboard and stashed it away in a corner, stacked some random books onto it as if to bury it- although she knew how futile that was...

I have a skeleton of a book in my closet, she smiled at her own funny thought.

Rain and Fire

She stepped forward in the rain. It felt unpleasantly chilly to her; against the warmth of the tears on her cheeks. It is cold, she thought- but not colder than an indifferent heart. The rain engulfed her in its relentless downpour. It was not worse than the downpour in her own heart though. Each drop of rain struck her sharp like a needle. She was drenched. Drenched in memories- once beautiful, now painful.

'I want to be free!!!' She cried.

The warmth of the tears wasn't enough to shield her from the cold. It was the indignant, hateful, unforgiving fire in her heart, she thought- that soothed her. The fire she knew was in fact burning her instead of warming.

Embracing the cold is the only way. There will be warmer days, she hoped as she shivered.

An Ostrich

'Eeyy Mobile!' the man in the driving seat shouted at me as a car halted with a screech inches away from me, 'Watch out!' I stood frozen with headphones in ears and phone in hands. I had not noticed the speeding car as I had been buried in my phone while crossing the road. Several people eyed me reproachfully, some did a tch tch. I cringed in embarrassment and sprinted my way across the road.

Not a new incident for me and I am not proud of it. I have spent 22 good years in Mumbai with busy roads and 3 years in Pune with indisciplined drivers. Still I always fumble while crossing roads. Seriously, several times I wonder if there is some problem in my eye-brain-leg coordination or I am just absent minded.

I am at my funniest when I cross the roads. First, I never cross roads alone. I wait for someone coming to cross the road, shield myself with them, match their speed hoping they aren't quicker than me and run along. I always did that while crossing that highway on the way to VJTI. If I happen to go on an afternoon when there is noone crossing the road, I would simply stand their waiting for ages for traffic to clear out.

I do the strangest thing when I see a vehicle speeding in my direction. I stand stiff, in the middle of the road, with head down, eyes shut tight. Fortunately I never died in a road accident. Till now.

One of my friends saw my amazing style of crossing. He held me by my backpack and stirred me away.
'Are you mad? Why do you stand there! People were laughing at you!' he informed, laughing uncontrollably.
'I don't know. I am just scared while crossing roads. It automatically happens.' I said shrugging.
'I read it somewhere. They say it's myth. Do u know ostrich?' he said, 'When they spot a danger, they bury their heads in the sand, you are an ostrich!' he laughed, 'you think not seeing the danger would stop the danger from approaching you.'


This road-safety issue of mine is so grave that on numerous occasions, strangers took me by wrist and helped me cross the road. Yes. Once I was planning my move looking intently at the traffic, putting a foot forward and then wincing and backing off indecisively. A lady held me by wrist and took me on the other side and left quietly. Some other time, a guy in my office with whom I had never talked before suddenly took my arm and pulled me across. (Okay- I kept wondering for the next few minutes how he thought he would manage to do that without offending me.)

Another friend teased me when I brought up the topic, "Maybe while crossing the road, Ketaki, you seem vulnerable. Like you need saving. People think this girl must be saved." I made a face at her.

One day I did bump into someone I trusted my life with. I would tug at their arm and then close my eyes- ready for the leap of faith. I could hear the horns screeching. The vehicles whirred around us. I could even feel the wind blowing noisily as some car whooshed swiftly, could suffocate slightly with the traffic smell. I did not have to open my eyes. I knew I was in safe hands. Do you know that feeling of safety, that divine inner peace that clears out your head off any fear or worry? Exactly that. I did not care to open my eyes. I just tugged at their arm. The assuring warmth of their arm made me fearless. Reckless and secure at the same time.

After a while that arm had snapped free of me. Maybe they were scared themselves, unwilling to move ahead... I never knew. All I knew was that I was alone in the middle of the road. Alone, unprotected, scared. Amongst vehicles moving... People running... Horns blowing.. I was frozen on the spot, cringing as I always did in the middle of the road. Neck bent, eyes fixed on ground in submission.

I could not stay there. There was a long stretch of road ahead still to be crossed. No matter how scared you are, you cannot stay frozen, that's the rule. It is necessary for what they call it- moving on. You know there are people across the road waiting for you. There are some cheering for you at a distance- you can do it, come on. You are alone in the middle of the road. Without help. Someday you have to come home.

I thought all this in the middle of that road, heaved a deep breath and walked forward. I am still walking on that road. Alone, not lonely but still having no option other than to learn to cross the road myself. I left some part of me on that road... I know I cannot go back to grab it. It is supposed to be like that. When you walk a really long road, you leave some things unknowingly or knowingly. In the road called life, there is no looking back no matter how precious thing you leave behind while walking forward.

I googled about ostrich habits. It seems they don't really bury their head in the sand on encountering a danger. I am learning not to stand stiff in the middle of the road with eyes shut. I am trying running, or better- fighting.