EXPERIENCES IN THE US - 2

                             OH! WHERE ARE THE BIRDS?

I feel my morning rendezvous incomplete and empty if I don’t see and hear the birds fluttering, chirping, twittering, pecking, prancing, romancing and  fighting above in the sky or on the ground, in my yard or in neighborhood yards  or during my walks. Strange but true, bird watch is a rarity here.  

My all weather friends the sprightly squirrels always cavorting in the vicinity back home, are conspicuously absent  here. I remember their frolicking and childlike teasing movements, infecting me with the carefree abandon which they display all the time.  They always help me to relax and unwind. The desire to see their joyful antics would frequently drag me out  for the walk and allowed me to define myself in the real world of senses.

But here in CHESTER SPRINGS near PHILLY, in spite of abundance of plant life , birds are missing. I sometimes see a pair of kites through the window, sailing with the wind in a floating motion high up, but they neither fly, one behind the other  nor parallel to each other, as if not on speaking terms with each other. They take a couple of circles and disappear suddenly. What about their families, I wonder? Or perhaps the trend of not having offspring among the few young Americans (according to an article in TIME magazine’s August 12 issue) has already been lapped up by the avian couples. I purposely sit outside to check on birdy presence and also to have some sunshine on my body as a bonus. But I draw a blank except for one day, when I sighted a couple of tiny birds flying in sprints for a minute or two, before vanishing abruptly. 
However, I do hear the intense buzzing of insects while passing by some trees. Looks like, the sprawling lawns meticulously maintained, bereft of weeds and chaos or may be of seeds or grub don’t have any attraction for birds. Agreed. But even amongst the thick cluster of trees they have no presence. With breathtaking natural beauty all around their absence is palpable.

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A PIANO CONCERT

The other day my daughter took me along for watching a piano recital.  It was no high fi social event. It was simply a recital by kids and our granddaughter was part of it. There were a few teens also. It was held in the house of the teacher, a smart Korean lady who gives private lessons in piano playing. Her husband anchored the program.

Interestingly and surprisingly, not only was I thrilled by the felicity and confidence of the children while performing but also by the fact, that out of the twenty participants, eighteen were of Indian origin, and only one American and a Chinese. Almost all the children were chaperoned by both their parents. Indian parents are so very conscious of giving their children the best of everything available. Thus in this race, I’m told, children get hauled after school  hours or on weekends for music lessons,  karate , basketball, swimming, dance and drama classes. Parents take keen interest in these activities and children are doing quite well. Though it is tough but parents vie with each other to enroll their children in the maximum number of classes.

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 NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH

Today while on our 'exploration of the area' walk (the little one’s school has reopened and we are having long walks now), we crossed our community houses to follow a trail which took us to some farmhouses, which are fairly renovated in the modern style now. Built on huge plots of land, surrounded by lush green trees and generous spread of various kinds of bushes and shrubs, the houses give hints of the old world charm and vastness of landed properties of the original settlers. Falling in line with the changing times, these farmers seem to have struck deals with builders and sold part of their land to the developers for housing and clubs etc. Chester Springs’ housing community is built on the land which is still named as ‘Eagle Village community.’

On one side of the wide road are farmhouses and on the other side, fenced by thick trunked assorted trees and sundry vegetation, one could see and admire the ram rod straight stems of perfectly healthy looking corn in the fields. America produces tons and tons of corn. Here corn is fed to the cattle; poultry and some confectionery preparations also use corn meal. Mexican tacos which are very popular here are made with corn flour. Sweet corn cobs for roasting, baby corn for salad and soups, packaged and tinned corn grain for sautéing and all-time favorite popcorn are hugely popular here. 

the flower bush in the side area of a farmhouse

greenery at the far end of the front compound of a farmhouse

thick bushes at the left side of the compound of another farmhouse

More next time.
Friends: Pl. tell me how do you like these vignettes.   

images with the i pad    

EXPERIENCES IN THE US-1

The water treatment lagoon. The walking trail is on the left of the pic.(not visible here)The light blue sky and the horizon.

I’m putting up in Chester Springs near Philadelphia (PA) in the US these days. It is a picturesque city surrounded by a thick forest cover, home to towering trees, rabbits, deer and exceptional species of vegetation. It is a totally peaceful area, except on weekends when the loud buzz of lawn mowers irritate the ear drums  The posh area of single family houses, where our daughter lives is inhabited mostly by professionals. A good number of Indian techies also live here.

Initial hiccups of jet lag and adjustment to the new environment being nearly over, I'm trying to go forward with my usual old routine. Going for a morning walk has been an important component of it.  For a long time the morning walk has acquired deep physical and spiritual connotations for me.
Wherever I'm, I make it a point of  scheduling it in my daily time table. Physically it keeps me in good shape and blesses me with so many loyal friends in the world of nature. I feel as though,the natural flora has deep affinity with me and converse with me in silence or through their rustling sounds.

Spiritually, I feel empowered and more confident after my daily rendezvous with the objects of nature in the course of my walk. It also helps me to relate to the outside world and its multiple frames.The morning scene gets etched so powerfully in the mind’s eye, ready to be invoked whenever necessary. If despair or cynicism  invades the mental space, one becomes resilient enough to come out of it soon. Most of all,  ideas for my articles are born, structured and mapped in my brain here.

the landscaped backyard of the corner house on the other side 0f the road.

Coming back to the present, I watch the outside world through my bedroom window first thing in the morning. If it is a clear day the early sun rays steal through the open blinds. My mood instantly perks up. Next a look at the sky: a massive ocean like entity, majestic and mysterious, attired in greyish white cloak of infinite proportions, exhibiting one of the unexplainable riddles of the universals in our existence. A lone eagle gliding on the roof tops and a couple of small birds dashing in and out of my range of vision break the spell of the magical scene.

I come down. While sipping my morning cup of ginger tea, I step outside through the front door. There is transparency and crispness in the atmosphere.  At the same time I sense a sort of stillness, the eeriness of the absolute quietude only violated now and then by the passage of a vehicle. The silence mystifies. The sheer immensity of the environment overwhelms. I stroll on the side walk and spin around while being hypnotized by the openness of the skyline presenting the perceptible illusion of the earth meeting the sky.  The sight becomes awe inspiring since you feel caught in the middle of an unearthly loop. The wondrous scene is there every day, but it touches your sensibilities once in a while. Nature surely has blessed this great land.

Cloudy sky or clear sky, we go for our morning walk in the company of our darling seven year old granddaughter who, remains at home these days, because of summer vacations. It feels wonderful to be out in the cool breeze and breathe in the freshness to recharge and inspire oneself to do  the daily chores and some reading or writing later in the day. 
The morning walk for us grandparents has its own specific culture here. We get ready for it in a leisurely way. We first prepare our breakfast according to the likings of our granddaughter. Like they say in India we subscribe to the maxim, ‘Grandparents are there to give concessions not to set rules’. Yesterday she preferred to have pancakes with chocolate syrup and today French toast with honey spread over them for extra sweetness.  Children everywhere in the world have a sweet tooth.  She puts the first morsel in her mouth and exclaims, “Grandma I love it.” True to the American style of appreciation.

We coax her to accompany us for the walk. She agrees very reluctantly but  insists on taking her bubbles contraption with her and keeps blowing and popping the bubbles, otherwise she is bored in no time and wants to come back after a short walk.

Walking on the side walk by perfectly manicured, landscaped lawns and shapely ornamental trees is a treat. There’re bushes and shrubs and flower beds, sans weeds, neatly spread with coal black mulch. Surveying the scene, I pay silent tribute to the efforts of the house owners who, by the way, I’ve not seen so far.

 I keep guessing, however. ……May be both husband and wife work and the children are enrolled in some camp. Or one  parent works from home and the kids are inside. Any which way the stillness is compelling. The Americans are busy bees. They’ve no time to look around for nothing. That explains the dedicated work spirit they possess.  

Musing thus we head for the safety of the beautiful walking trail with sprawling grassy land and water treatment lagoon, efficiently secured, on one side and a busy road, blocked by fluffy pines, on the other. Mostly we are a lone threesome there. To keep our little one engaged who really leads us by running ahead; I show her the flowering fennel plants growing on the edges and have promised to show her the seeds when these ripen. The other day we saw the canopy of a really large mushroom finding its way out through the grass.

the cute mini well in the corner house

While coming, back two beautifully maintained houses at the end of the trail attract our attention. In one there is cute looking replica of a mini well placed on the side and our granddaughter examines it curiously and asks questions. The other house has artistically landscaped backyard and side areas with exotic plants and flowering bushes. But do the architects of the beauty ever get time to feast their eyes on their handiwork, I wonder?

beautifully laid flower bed in the front lawn over looking the houses in the neighborhood

I'm fascinated by the things around here and would be observing things keenly to write about them to share with you. 

Friends: Waiting for your response in words.

 images taken with g.daughter's i pad.

   

HIGHWAY EYESORES CRY FOR ATTENTION

While coming back from a flying visit to the hills, a few glaring eyesores which had been there for long, but ignored painfully by all concerned,   invaded the peaceful mode of the mind. Thinking exercise left me disturbed and feeling helpless. Not that I had not noticed this criminal neglect before, but now my sensitivity to these issues has acquired a social activist’s approach. I want to write about issues which affect us all, not only to awaken the slumbering public but also to sensitize   everybody about losing patience and forcing the authorities to take up concrete measures to root out the blights.

As we drove back from Solan, (Himachal Pradesh) the sights and sounds on both sides of the road, gripped my attention. Mountain side was splashed with lush dark green sundry vegetation and the other side showed, scary mystery of the deeply dense green valley and above, a sea of thick grey clouds loomed large preparing for a fresh spell of rain, though not that imminently.

However my sharp observation did not miss the disgustingly ugly spots which forced their way into the range of vision by default. Could not control myself from musing,  how tourists from abroad would be responding to such unwholesome   fare coming their way?  As one goes holidaying to some place of interest, one always fantasizes glamorized version of it. In that respect, I wondered  how  visitors coming from far and wide, lured by the  eye catching images on brochures of shiwalik hills and the prospect of perfect weather in the summers, must be getting disillusioned by disturbing visions on the road sides, on the flanks of  hills and indiscriminately everywhere.

Of course, let me not keep you guessing by dwelling on the peripheries but come right away to the point.

Following are the irritants which are not that humungous to eradicate but are outrageously significant and need immediate and genuine acting upon:

Within a few minutes of our drive, stray dogs could be seen loitering with abandon around the road. At one place there were nearly a dozen of    them, restlessly moving and wagging their tails, perhaps in the midst of a passionate mating challenge.   Such sessions often involve ferocity, scuffles and sudden duels which happen in the middle of the highway. Imagine the plight of vehicular traffic drivers facing such unexpected threatening situations every day on the roads. Such sights are the order of the day in our country and so much of space and ink has been wasted in highlighting the gravity of the epidemic with examples of actual incidents, where such dogs have mauled and killed children and even eaten their flesh  and bit whosoever came in their way. After occasional hue and cry the status quo returns till the next jolting incident. 

A sense of déjà vu prevails here. Tragically, most of us are in the know of  the solutions but no system gets evolved, for giving practical shape to the required actions. The menace continues to fester unabated. What gross neglect of a grave issue!

Another sour point is the littering of garbage and sundry wastes on the road sides, on mountain sides, residential areas, on vacant plots, in front of eateries etc. It is rampant and is conspicuously visible to every road user. Unattended and not properly lifted decayed filth, attract monkeys, dogs, cattle and flies and becomes breeding haven for mosquitoes, thus defiling the environment and spreading deadly diseases and epidemics. The moot question is: When we’ll learn civic sense and be responsible citizens and good human beings? This question hardly resonates in our minds.
 

A nuisance  which endangers public safety and health is the ubiquitous curse of stray cattle moving fearlessly on inner roads and highways. Cud chewing cows, sitting  in the middle of the roads, unmindful of the horns and hoots of the traffic, is a common sight throughout the year. It is really amusing to see bulls walking majestically in the dense traffic movement and rarely get hurt themselves though cause serious accidents. There are reports of vehicles turning turtle on sudden breaking at night when stray cattle sprawled on the roads get noticed at the last minute. Even public parks are trespassed by the ever increasing number of these unwanted animals.

Actually it seems stupid to go on wasting our efforts when no solution is in sight yet. Who’d enact stringent laws to haul the owners of free moving cattle and put them behind bars for avoiding their duties? And what about the role of our elected representatives who have simply forgotten to work for the well being of the people, who credited them with positions of power?

 

Aren’t these shameful blots on the beauty of our mountain ranges and length and breadth of our country present a poor image of us internationally. In this globalized world of numerous communication sources, nothing can be hidden any more.

Waiting for the final call to be made in this connection

Friends:This article was penned, soon after my short visit to the hills, some time back but posted on the blog from the US where we’re visiting our children.     

  

 Friends: your thoughts are welcome.

INDIFFERENCE: A WORRISOME MALADY

Responding to thoughts, triggered by keenly observed, prevailing scenario of indifference, a malady which is spreading its evil hold shamelessly and conspicuously in our midst; I decided to pen my concerns in a blog post. The question arises: why we're becoming so selfish and ego centric,  as to lose the empathy and balance of a normal healthy life? There’re clear signs of despondency and restlessness, in spite of overwhelming material comforts. Apparently we’ve stepped into a mental state which is permanently in an insecure zone, where trust and care for others have no place.

Our self absorption with ourselves and our families has resulted in the creation of disjointed, neurotic  personalities, with unsound behavioral patterns.

In case of family ties, the interaction between parents and children and amongst siblings is minimal. Everyone seems to be confined to one’s own small world. Social net working only provides mechanical and frivolous information. Children are uncaring and the idea of thanking parents for their struggles to help them succeed is hardly contemplated.

A by product of such an attitude is the growth of sickening indifference towards other human beings and situations, private or public. We are increasingly getting socially detached from our environment. Earning high salaries and being able to afford everything, we damn care for the wealth of social intimacy and practice destructive stoicism when unpleasant incidents beset us, thinking that sharing our problems with others will make us lose our dignity. We try to find comfort in aloofness and wear a persona to the outside world which is entirely hypocritical and snooty. If poked out of our concealments, a landscape of self doubts and misery confronts us nakedly.

Apropos to these observations I’ve tried to ponder over this growing tendency of unconcern and indifference which is gaining strong footholds in all fields of our lives.

All of us need to introspect about the following unpleasant facts:

In our country the adage ‘love thy neighbour as thyself’ has no significance as he/she is the one who is your greatest tormentor. His children play cricket and smash your window panes and trespass in your house to retrieve the ball by jumping the boundary wall and your neighbour brazenly pretends ignorance.When confronted with the truth he’d act like a silly fool and say his children don’t listen. Criminal unconcern or what?

A simple example: A neighbor, who is obsessed with washing his car frequently, closes his eyes to the fact that the water collects near your gate. And the same fellow parks his car outside your gate when you are out. On coming back you have to ring his bell repeatedly before he comes out to move it away. What can you do about the utter indifference of such atrocious humans who can never be shamed? You boil inside but refrain from reacting so as not to create a scene. And they continue exploiting you.

If a Good Samaritan is creatively performing some good for the community, not only some narrow minded folks refuse to recognize the contribution and meanly avoid saying a few deserving words of praise but also villainously try to throw a spanner in the works to thwart his efforts. .

Just think of our thieving political class barring a few good ones, furthering blatantly their own interests and develop amnesia about public welfare, for which they are elected. For ensuring their vote banks they hoodwink the burgeoning numbers of the poor and the illiterate through carefully structured shenanigans. What about their moral insensibility?

The lower bureaucracy represents the leeches of our society. Most of them are ruthlessly insidious as public functionaries. Here unfortunately women and men are equal partners in extracting pecuniary benefits from the hapless consumers seeking one service or the other.

Indifference towards the public good is exhibited by the print and visual media also. Yes, they do spread awareness about societal injustices and other causes but more often than not, they indulge in irresponsible journalism to increase sales or pump up viewer ship. The images of violent protests shown repeatedly tend to provoke more violence rather than help to quell it. TV debates have become an arena for aggressive shouts and interruptions and the poor viewer is disgusted with the never ending harangues. Fail to understand why such debates are held. These confuse the already cynical viewers.

The state of affairs in government run hospitals, show the chronic apathy of the medical fraternity. Unless the administrators, doctors and para medics take upon themselves to streamline the system by promoting discipline and accountability, can  anything be achieved. Govt. is spending huge amounts of tax payers’ money and it is tragic if the medical services don’t reach the needy.

As teachers, are we inspiring our students to do their best in whatever field they choose by setting personal examples of impeccable integrity?

As researchers are we aspiring to move towards the frontiers of knowledge by honest hard work?

Are we curious enough to welcome the opportunities for continuous learning process or are we satisfied with the degree certificates and shun updating our knowledge?

Are we interested in imparting useful information and wise counsel to the people who work for us in private capacity or do we consider them mere robots or untouchables?

As engineers, do we painstakingly supervise the construction activity for the use of proper and adequate materials or casually perform our duty and pass the buck in the event of some mishap?

Do we discharge our civic duties as responsible citizens or strut around vainly, inconveniencing others?

Do we follow traffic rules or consider roads our private property and scare other users with our reckless driving?

Do we as traffic policemen attend to our duties faithfully or stand their listlessly, giving the impression that it is below our dignity to manage traffic?

The list of questions, which we can ask ourselves is long but this’ll suffice for the present.

Dear friends,What do you think about the above?

 

Image courtesy, the Internet 

REFLECTING ON LIFE'S JOURNEY

Since ‘we are condemned to live,’ it is reasonable to go ahead and analyze our existential position in this crazy world of ours off and on.

Of late, the critique of life has become one of my favorite subjects to dwell upon in my blog writing journey. I enjoy reflecting on the infinite avatars of life as they whet my thinking prowess by unfolding deeper insights of this thrilling conundrum. It is no less than an intellectual challenge to delve into this field of oceanic proportions by picking up some chosen threads. Sometimes out of the blue, sundry thoughts intrude into grey cells, take shape and come alive on the blank pages as follows:

Reminiscising about the lived calendar of one’s life throws out interesting realizations:

Here is the personal narrative:

(a) Contrary to popular belief; it is observed that we tend to change for the better with the passage of time. The change is not like a waterfall, suddenly coming into existence somewhere, after a heavy downpour in the hills. Here the change is deliberate, conscious, slow and steady based on the shifting truths and perceptions of daily life.

Soon to be on the threshold of my seventies, I know how this change has come about in me. The journey of this change has been flavored with bitter sweet happenings, moulding my character in between, cautioning me along the way about the fragility of human bonds and about the power of the spoken word which can make or break relationships.

(b)Yes, certainly confidence declines with age, beleaguered by challenging circumstances in the course of life‘s multifarious roles. Later in life the love and affection of grand children compensates this loss sufficiently.

(c) Life’s canvas gets etched with markings of momentary highs and some long drawn lows out of which the memories are born. However, life never ceases to be interesting and worthy. But this roller coaster of life begins differently for different people.

I started with a protected and loving childhood and adolescence. Got degrees, became a professional. Marriage and motherhood followed. Experienced the pain, when myths of mushy romance, shared with friends during heavenly gossip sessions, while luxuriating in the lawns of GCG Chandigarh, got burst at the altar of hard realities. Later passed through the usual heart aches of married life, smothered in the secret crying on the pillow or sitting on the garage roof under starlit nights. Writing personal poems to blurt out the stifling emotional deluge and finally gaining a state of stoicism via falling and balancing.

The journey’s cobbled path with a few roses thrown here and there remains enshrined firmly within me.  And the prized rosy days are locked safely in the vase of fragrant memories.

Life is no lyrical ballad, it is an epic poem with some sweet pains and numerous heart aches. In fact life’s lyrics get written every day.

(d)Amidst the choking compromises of life, clinging to the memory of those creatively thrilling precious moments gives succor and stability in spite of occasional rough terrains.

(e)For the creatively active there are always some tasks left to be accomplished and lived for and the body basics have to be taken care of, to ensure its support for as long as possible.

(f) To constantly seek some wonder moments is the new logo for being alive. The moments which take your breath away. Like the thrill of unexpectedly seeing a spider’s web exquisitely woven, hanging on balcony’s railing after a rain soaked day.  Is there room for resentments and excesses of any kind to squander this jewel of life upon...?

(g)One has to keep resurrecting the special celebratory vignettes from the bank of memories to transcend the sultriness of life.

(h)To keep the tracks of life oiled and functioning healthily, the crutches of procrastination have to be discarded. Otherwise the ‘Apple Cart’ of life will go down into quicksand impossible to be retrieved.

(i)Even with dwindling energies, the battle has to rage within to stomp over the dead wood of passivity and inch towards some goal with child like curiosity, till the last breath is breathed.

Image courtesy: The Internet

Friends your thoughts are welcome! 



CUCKOO HAS ARRIVED

My love for nature's treasures!

For the last few days her singing has acquired the powerful zest of a war cry. I thought I’d resist her emboldened tenor, but no way. Perhaps she was sending me messages through her power packed melody to bring me out of my physical discomforts to chronicle her monsoon journey. That of course, I’d been doing, the last two years. Believe me she is none other than my birdie friend cuckoo. And I’m perennially inspired to write about her.

Every year I see her in a new avatar hitherto unexplored. This time her singing has high-speed, but a full throated depth too. Perhaps she wishes to convey that good times don’t last. Drink the gains of the breezy weather to the dregs. How else she could deliver the message other than through crooning, the gift she has. Since she has no other voice. Thanks to the early monsoon, her excitement is soaring high. I read a mysterious urgency in her notes, as if she simply can’t contain the happiness of the unexpected showers, gracing the parched earth, with its soaking blessings. Even the citizenry stands infected by her joy and come out  in hordes to cool their bodies after the bristling heat of the past.

She welcomes the dark cloudy days with a feverish singing extravaganza. Perhaps she communicates the fiery intensity of her passion, breaking all reservations. May be it is a call to her estranged lover for making it up with her, as the sensuous rain drops have submerged deep under, all ill will and animosity. The poignancy of her music seems to emphasize the transience of all that is beautiful , so he must join her accepting warts and all, cuddle her and let go of the devastating ego. Her message loud and clear is even heard by the human mortals. She is waiting to be enveloped in his passionate embrace and give her all. Her beauty and his virility are short lived.Thus he should hasten to be with her as love has impregnated every vein in her body and longs for consummation.

Does size matter? This simply petite bird, attired in glossy  black, with orange hued glassy eyes, empowered and endowed with a sweet voice, which floats unhindered above the crescendo of all human and bird noises.

The mellifluous charm of her song overflows the milieu around me acting like a magic wand, sweeping away the nervous stress and aches and pain of tired limbs. Is there any need to feel charged with anxiety when the cuckoo is regaling one and all with her happy notes while beckoning us to seep into the joviality, forgetting worries and woes? The purity and genuineness of her voice pays homage to the season of rains, while awakening the dormant spirit of monsoon masti in our hearts. Her luscious coo coo nudges me out of despair and hopelessness towards positivity, better than mere words of inspirational self help books.

Image courtesy: the Internet.

Your comments are welcome!

IN A STATE OF BEING DEPRIVED

                     
BEING TOOTHLESS IS NO JOKE
The other day, luckily, weather took a breezy turn. Early morning walk in the pleasantly windy and cool atmosphere was like a treat, after the prickly heat of many sweaty days. The branches of the trees were swinging to and fro in carefree abandon and there was a singing spree by birds and half a dozen squirrels were scampering around gaily, enamored by the soft cool wind.

Back home, I felt light hearted and at ease which propelled me to divulge something which I had gone through and am still mired neck deep into. But somehow I felt squeamish about sharing it with my blog friends.

Actually, you may not even be amused. However, I decided I won’t let this experience go waste. ‘What are friends for’? I thought. ‘They’ve to be informed’, discretion demanded. ‘And be prepared even to be ignored’, heart warned.

As an indiblogger, I’m acquainted with so many of you in the virtual world and feel the proximity between us a click or a comment away. Friendship in the real world pales into insignificance before the colorful and no holds barred camaraderie existing in the community of indibloggers and others in the blogosphere. Such a wonderful prerogative we enjoy to be able to open our hearts creatively before equally creative minds.
….
Here comes the narrative of my ordeal:

I grew up in the serious fifties and sixties, so humor and I are poles apart. I may succeed in drawing some laugh lines though, provided you read it. Bored- are you already?

It all started in December last. It appears as if, it was recorded in my janam patri slyly by Satan himself when God had gone for some rest. It was destined. Had been waiting in the wings for quite sometime, dropping painful hints now and then. For how long can one remain immune to the tell tale signs, though? The efforts to blot out their passage failed. They had to show up. And show up they did.

Tooth pain, friends, is said to be the mother of all pains. In fact my teeth had stopped fully cooperating long back and I had been through periodic sessions of drilling, filling, cleaning and an odd extraction here and there. Over time I had developed a sort of paranoia about dental work. It was not that I did not do the usual routine of brushing, flossing etc. All my care couldn’t compensate for nature’s injustice. I inherited a faulty jaw line and molars with a deeper indent in the middle, attracting caries like bees to flowers; my oral hygiene notwithstanding. (Lucky you with your pearly whites!)-:)

More than fair share of visits to the dentist had been my forte since my thirties and brooding ‘why me’ never helped. I took refuge in the saying ‘To err is human’ and missed dental appointments on one pretext or the other and this led to the saga of pain.

Presently pain came with heavy foot falls to challenge the presence of my wisdom teeth. The excruciating tooth ache opened the ‘Pandora’s box’ of troubles, resulting in a long drawn suffering stint. Home remedies were woefully ineffective. Pain killers provided temporary relief. I was even prepared to go to the gallows to escape paying obeisance to the dentist’s chair .But things were pitted against me. No way could I delay further. Ultimately the conspiracy of continuous moaning dragged me to the altar of the dreaded chair. The wise molar got extracted with hard pulling and shaking, so strong were its roots. Left me limp and traumatized.

In the aftermath, antibiotics and pain killers became my bosom friends. Another blow came when the unceasing throbs took me to the dentist again. He examined the gaping hole and declared that I had a dry socket (lack of blood supply to the injured gum tissue.) I visited him for three consecutive days for dressing the exposed bone, as the gum tissue around it had got bruised in the difficult extraction procedure. It took two months to heal and left me so scared that I kept the next on hold as long as I could. My expectations for early recovery had by now plummeted and the second one I took in my stride.
In the midst of this misadventure, I was easily taken in by the dentist’s advice that I better have the rest pulled out and have a complete denture which will be the permanent end of my woes. I was cautioned by well wishers, that there’s no substitute for the natural ones but I remained adamant partly because of the disgust and partly because I was wearing a partial denture already.

Finally, I went through the inevitable. Pl. don’t enquire about my troubles for the last five months as you’ve viewed the trailer above and you can visualize the rest. Now at least the World Wide Web can either sympathize with me or dump me, for sure.

To save my sanity in this deprived state, I take recourse to writing and posting on my blog now and then.

The result: In the place where once my jaws were holding some good and some crooked teeth, there is a dark cave inside, the cheeks are sunken and the mirror image throws a prominent nosed ghost.

The tongue feels lonely as if it has lost its way and wonders where her friends have disappered while it was sedated. Poor thing has to do a lot of chewing with the help of the palate to feed me.

Hunger is a great teacher. So many innovations have been adopted to enable me to survive. My food gets blended in the mixer, though I hate the concoction. I manage to eat fruit and cooked veggies and have lost a few kilos from my already lean frame.

However, this tale of mine isn’t ending any time soon. My gums still look meaty in spite of gum astringent massage and need more shrinking. I’m waiting for the final trial to begin, so that it may end.

The moral:

# 1: Short cuts don’t work in life. One repents later.

# 2: Take decisions wisely, as these will impact your whole life.

# 3: Take care of your set of teeth as you’d, your gold, diamonds and pearls and these will stand by you for a lifetime.

Friends what do you think of the whole episode.
Image courtesy : The internet