Therein goes another Gee

Over the shack up the fig tree,
Lived a man they called Sergeant Gee.
He believed never would he wilt or die,
Swearing by the angels who always stood by...

Birds for friends - purple, blue and yellow,
Weeds on him aplenty till they doth him mellow.
Cometh the hour that the figs breed,
Doth cometh the men, paying heed.

They called him the man who had it all..
Sang paeans and did he bask..
Came to him from far and wide...
Singing eulogies ...they would rant...
"dear oh gee, how blessed art thee..."

Gee grinned with pride through all the seasons,
Of biting cold and scorching sun,
For figs, his tree always bore,
With all their sweetness undone...

Years went by and Gee lost his pun...
Along cometh another season...
Cometh the biting cold, the scorching sun...
Cometh the men who said it all...
But it was the year cometh the fall..

They loved him, had said they,
Deceit ridden inside their spleen.
But soonest had come the day he lost his sheen...
In its elements, the world was all wry and mean..

The truth was out for now they swore,
Bitter than the rawest fig his tree ever bore..

Away went the birds, the weeds and the men,
Away went the angels, his good omen...
Gee cussed havens for he didn't know his crime,
Only the gods laughed to themselves and said,
"Therein goes the inglorious Sergeant Gee...
doesn't know hes past his prime..."

Anachronism et al

Day X:
The taxi jerks to a halt as the scoundrel in Porsche Cayenne cuts across lanes, avoids two cars by a whisker, screeches and skids to a halt, nearly turns turtle, immediately recovers and zooms past disappearing amidst another row of slow-moving cars - all in a few seconds. The Saudi in the hummer doesn’t battle an eyelid. But the been-there-done-that Pakistani cab driver is not amused, neither am I.

The only sound in the background that doesn’t seem as disturbed is that of Kumar Sanu who is still fervently muttering ‘Jaldi hai kya?’ in his nasal tone – a fitting reply to the female playback’s ‘Jaati hoon main’ – suits the mood, I say. Welcome to Jeddah, the land of the abandoned – of the done and the dusted, the tried and the tested.

Aankh hai bhari bhari…aur tum…muskuraane ki baat karte ho…
Tu cheez badi hai mast mast…??!!!??
Wriggle your brain cells, do you remember these songs? If you haven’t grown up in India in the slow 90s, perhaps you don’t. Those were the times - an age when Sunil Shetty or the wannabe hippie Sanjay Dutt manhandled a hundred bald, fat, ugly looking men wearing cheap attires, wielding AK47s and granede launchers – who, in spite of possessing every sophisticated looking armor, never learnt to use them or at least never learnt to use them to perfection.

It baffled at first, to have desultory, lame and mushy songs of the bygone era ringing in my ear. It was even surprising to see audio cassettes of unknown movies and forgettable songs. Who uses cassettes anymore? All these are ominous signs that the audience has never grown up since they dumped everything back home in 90s and set ashore.

Call it anachronism – fellow Indians, Pakis and such folks seem to have lost the count of time and purpose in pursuit of an oasis amidst the desert. Everyone has a story –none of which have an end. Everyone believes he is chasing something, but is, ironically, getting chased by the wheels of time instead. What, perhaps, binds everyone in this land of monotony, boredom and lackluster is a dream. Some have it, some had it while some had theirs quashed.

Jeddah is a strange place - its an amalgamation of pain, agony and hope amidst hopelessness. It’s the place where a million average Joes turn up - not seeking opportunity, rather seeking livelihood.

Like the story of the Indian laborer who toiled for 20 odd years in the gas station, dreaming of building his own big house back home. And after marrying off his sisters, paying off the debts, spending on whims of his wife, showering mercies on everyone and his dog back home, had his house built. But before he could dwell in it, suffered from a stroke at work and succumbed. A strange game of chance this life is, isn’t it?

Day Y:
A new day, another taxi trudges along as it nears another one of the innumerable traffic signals. Sudanese Urchins wander about in the sea of cars loaded with bottled water and spongebob-squarepants air balloons, hoping to make some business while the commotion lasts.

The stationary figure of larger-than-life bicycle dozes off placidly in the background when sideway glances are exchanged. Two Pakistani glances meet, nothing strange. But that this time they share an apprehension and a common feeling of haplessness. Side windows are lowered and a conversation follows.

P1: Kal fata? Peshaur mein? (There was an explosion last night? Peshawar?)
P2: Haan. Hamare toh ghar ke pas hi hai. Chacha wahi the. (Yeah. Close to our house. My uncle was around)
P1: (excitedly) Achha? Toh asal mein kitne mare? (Really? So how many have actually succumbed?)
P2: News mein toh bola hai shayad 70-80 log mare hai. Masjid mein fata hai toh log haazir the hi. Chacha bole 100 se zyada hi honge. (TV reports mention 70-80 casualties but there must be more, for it being a mosque. Uncle is sure there are at least more than 100)
P1: Ya-allah!

Meanwhile, the signal turns green, a car snarls from behind, seemingly furious at the two yokels. Car windows are raised again and the wheels are back in motion.

Life goes on…

Just another day!

A lazy wednesday:

Holiday. No one at home - blissful silence. Lazed and dazed around the house since morning - doing nothing. Bread omelette for brunch - tea biscuit for snacks - plenty of water in between.

Tick tick -
Sun sets. Clock strikes 8:
Feel hungry - Ramadan month - all shops closed :-(

Tick tick -
Half past 8:

Cant bear. God said - lets make something tonight. And then god said - let there be dal.
- Slice and dice onions.
- Take half a cup of lentil - wash thoroughly. Water 1:2.
- Stuff everything in the pressure cooker and wait for the whistle to blow.

And as we speak, clock strikes 9:
A lot of contemplation - Dal and bread would not that great - Lets make chapatis.
- Get two cups of wheat flour. Chapati? Sure eh? Naah. Too much effort - lets make rice.
- Plan changed - 1 cup of rice - wash thoroughly. Water 1:2
- Let us be grand and savor some aloo jeera too.
- Peel potatoes. Chop-chop.
- Oil in pan - cumin seeds, mustard - gas on - wait to sputter.
- Great! Time to call home.
- Chatter chatter.

Half past 9:
- Whats going on?
- Cumin seeds, mustard? Burnt out of recognition.
- Rice? Dal? Didn't turn on the stove.
- So what now?
- Throw everything in to the bin.
- Sulk.

Quarter to 10:
Whats left?
- Nicely washed rice and dal.
- Burnt mustard/cumin seeds. Anything edible? Nope.

Whats next?
Wait for clock to strike 10 - go to the restaurant and have a grand feast.

Day over! Voila!

Poles apart

The biggest thing that I am missing about India is the monsoon. As the temperature soars every passing day in Jeddah, going out of the house has become a pain of the highest order. Furthermore, trudging in and out of the air-conditioned enclosures to the scathing air outside has brought in bouts of dry cough and sore throat which keeps me awake - coughing through the night.

Meanwhile, as the flood situation worsens in Ambala, Kurukshetra and nearby districts of Punjab, our countrymen have got back to their annual ritual of cussing the rains and waiting for the sun.

Last year, rainfall were unpredictably low and barring a few bouts of rains here or there, whatever water flew in were in the form of tears of rural farmers unassuming to the concept of cyclical crops, rain-water harvesting or modern methods of crop harvesting. I’d been for day long hikes to little known hamlets near Mumbai. Ploughing was in full swing in these places and people were out of their huts sowing seeds and ploughing their farms using the old-fashioned wedge, towed by a bull. I couldn’t fathom why tractors weren’t used in these places. Maybe the topography doesn’t allow the smooth movement of these huge wagons? Or maybe they were too poor to afford them?

Whatever little it rained, it turned these places to ephemeral havens. We went to the villages the tributaries of the Gargai and Vaitarna River and walked through the country. I was baffled to come across places where there were no signs of electric poles (and naturally, no electricity) – and still these places were only 150 odd kilometers away from Mumbai. I guess it would only be fashionable to say I was jealous of the kind of life the villagers enjoyed.

We befriended villagers who walk for 5 kms to reach the nearest dispensary at the town-center (aka bus-stops). All this so that they could impart a tetanus and polio pulse to their newly born – doing their bit to ensure a better life for their offspring. Now, I would be cynical to state that these villages aren’t connected by a local transport system. There were indeed State Transport buses connecting these villages but their frequency was alarming – a bus every hour or two. If you missed one, you have to hitch a ride in the treacherous Mahindra commander, which carried 20-24 people all at once. The commanders are officially 8-seater wagons. Call it mathematical consistency for, sadly, a life here would only be worth 1/3rd of that of their most depraved counterparts in the metros.

But these people were also the warmest I’d ever met. Most of the times we’d go in search of dams or bridges or waterfalls situated in far off corners in these villages. The umpteen ‘guides’ we sought help from never expected anything in return. They’d patiently walk us through the difficult ‘freestyle’ river-crossings and pull us through slippery rocks. At the end of our journeys, when we part ways, they’d smile with exuberance unknown to their urban counterparts. This was a testimony that they did not expect any favor in return. We’d share whatever food we lug along with us and part ways.

Now as I lay back on my bed, cars hissing by my window, I long for those 5 minute stopovers under the straw roofs. I wish that once I go back to India, I get an opportunity to meet a lot more such simple, warm and honest people. My biggest wish is a walk-through India, meeting fellow country-men, laugh with them, live with them and bring subtle difference in their lives. I wish.

In a nutshell

Time Files.

Can’t believe it’s been more than 6 months since I laid my foot on the bizarre Z-land. Honestly, life hasn’t changed much. Life back home was mundane. The days were predictable; Setting alarms and all the triggers to rise early in the morning but getting late everyday; slowly going through the morning grinds. Managing to get the 70kg blob called me (minus the mind) to work.

Work was even more of a pain. I would calmly sulk in my corner playing all sorts of flash games and trying various computer tricks. And a few hours later, I was back where I’d begun: home.

And so one day, I made up my mind that I’ll be flying to the Z-land for work, stay back for 10 months and fly back home. I was reminded of a quote in a Seneca essay – “If a man knows not what harbor he seeks, any wind is the right wind”. I couldn’t agree less!

Still clearly remember the star-studded night sky – like a mist beyond the fog, as I pore through the window of the flight. To say it looked stellar would be an understatement. I was somewhere above the Arabian sea and as I looked downwards, I could sense the darkness of the sea.

The scenes on the other side of the window weren’t as great. I was sitting next to a bunch of skilled laborers fumbling with a lot of papers and a pen amidst them. A closer look revealed that it was the immigration form that they were trying to figure out. Their SOS to the cabin crew was met with a cold blooded response. So much for the poor folks!

I volunteered to help them one of them out, asking him to help the others. And with that I peered to the other side of the window. By this time, I’d crossed the Arabian sea and was now flying over the great Arabian landscape. In contrast to the pitch dark Arabian sea, the Arabian land was glimmering yellow. It baffled me at once – was the whole land under a gigantic forest fire? Months later, I would laugh at this thought – after the realization that there is no forest here to catch fire.

As I landed, I was taken aback by a lot of things – the absence of the gangway to take you out from the aircraft straight to the airport. We were instead taken to a bus which would take us under the wingspans of Boeing 747s (parked aside as well as the ones ready to take off!). This was followed by the long wait at the immigration counter. After an hour and a lot of queue jumping, I was out of the airport.

I expected the worst from this place but on hindsight, life hasn’t been that bad. It’s been six months since and I’ve learnt so much! I learnt how to swim. I’ve snorkeled and witnessed the amazing world underneath the red sea; met some really great people and a few capricious ones; learnt to be open-minded about people and the religions they follow (have met radically devout Muslims and equally devout Christians); Made some really good friends. And the voyage is still on.

But I miss my folks back home and in a few months down the line, I wish to go back to my home in the other side of the woods. Till then, I guess, I will survive :-)

Wilderness camp at Semadoh (Melghat Tiger Reserve)

The Melghat sun looked at its best here in this water-body

Forest is something that has captivated me since childhood. It reminds me of the golden-olden school days. Summer vacations were the times when we used to flee away to Kerala. I would pester my grandma to arrange someone to take me to the jungle nearby. The walks were long but listening to the birds, tracking signs of animals, learning about trees coupled with freaky rumors about haunted hills and animal attacks would keep me engrossed (later I realized that the forest forms a part of the Peechi-Vazhani wildlife sanctuary). Wilderness has been my first love eversince.

In a city, you may never be alone but always lonely; In a forest, you may be alone but never lonely :-)

It was early April when friends started planning for some get-away for the extended weekend at the end of month. We (Me, Ganesh and Vipul) have always wanted to go some place where there would be very little tourists tinkering around. We narrowed down to Chikaldhara and managed to convince people for a trip to the Melghat Tiger Reserve (MTR) instead.

12 of us sans Swarup (he's taking this pic)

Plan:

1. Stay:

Since there was ample time, I started with my research on the places and activities around MTR. The MTR starts at Semadoh where there is a Semadoh Tourist Complex, managed by the Field Director, MTR. I also got to read a lot about the Kolkas Rest House which is based 15 KM deep inside the forest. All these are forest officer’s guest houses and admission is permitted only with prior permission.

Got to know from reliable sources that it’s nearly impossible for 12 people to stay at kolkas (it’s a cottage meant only for about 4 people). There is another VIP guest house at kolkas where a larger group can stay which was apparently constructed for Indira Gandhi. But then you got to be a VIP or at least know one. We were neither so didn’t think much about kolkas.

Then we started to reach the field director. We found the number (0721-2662792) and called plenty of times. He was pretty vocal about us getting a travel agent for ourselves and even gave us the phone number of a certain Akash. Since we were almost a dozen people, we decided to shun randomness this time and book with Akash instead.

2. Getting there and getting around:

The trains were booked for 29th Aril 2009 for the 0129 CSTM-NAGPUR Special. It would drop us at Badnera by 10 AM. We arranged for two Taveras from Amravati which would be there with us for all the three days. The temperature around Amravati in May hits 47 degrees (Celsius) so we booked ones with air conditioners. Too much luxury compared to our usual chintzy trips :-). We also decided to use the vehicles for our jungle safaris too.

The cost per day was Rs 1200 (diesel charges extra). We filled up about Rs 1000 worth diesel and it lasted for the whole journey pretty easily.

3. Arrangements:

Then came the real trouble; garner all the necessary permission to visit various areas around the reserve. This is where Akash’s http://www.melghattourism.com/ helped. Though we were initially pretty apprehensive about the local guide, it turned out to be a good idea. Akash was pretty knowledgeable and so was his beau – The wild photographer (sic) Bunty. He was well versed about Melghat fauna and kept the group in good spirits with his wilderness trivia. Bunty was a good photographer and funny chap as well. I would highly recommend them for a big group.

They charged us about 20K for the whole journey. Not a bad deal considering we didn’t have to spend a penny extra in Melghat, including stay and food, except for bottled water!

Day 1:

All of us met at CST as planned. The train journey was fun. A few of us skipped sleep for gossips! I had a nice nap in train to get ready for the day ahead!

Victoria Terminus (CST) in its full splendor

We reached at Badnera by 10 AM. The place was burning.We got into our cabs soon and set off for MTR soon. After about an hour drive, took a break at Paratwada for breakfast. The food was hot as hell too. Bought “imported” sunglasses from street side hawker and started out for the journey through the Ghats.

It was then we realized why the place is aptly called so (Melghat literally means meeting of the Ghats). The intertwined Ghats cease to end. We saw a Shikra flying past but were too tired to be excited. We went through myriad topsy turvy roads for more than 2 hours to reach Semadoh. By the time we all reached, we were all feeling nauseated due to the road as well as the scorching sun and wanted some rest!

And the journeyman's day has begun

At the Bihali check-post

We got freshened and headed for lunch at a local Korku house (arranged by Akash). The food wasn’t great. Too spicy and rotis were too tough for my battle worn teeth. But then you don’t go to tiger reserves expecting royal treatment and seven course meals, do you?

Post lunch, it was time for the Jungle Safari. We hit the roads again, towards the jungle this time. The Ghats never ended. After about 15 minutes into the forest, we saw another car going back which had witnessed a family of sloth-bear and a herd of Indian Bison (Gaurs) a few meters down. Now the sloth-bear or the aswal, as it is called by the village folks, is the most feared animal for its notoriety. It is known to chase human beings, attack them and in many a cases, even kill them.

We proceeded along and witnessed a huge herd of Gaurs all gazing at us. There were about 15 of them and all were busily grazing away. The leader of the group was standing somewhere in the middle and was the biggest of all. It was a great delight to watch the 1200 Kg animal planting a peaceful gaze at us and obliging by posing for photographs.

The 900 Kg beast is happy to oblige

The herd looks unperturbed

I think we missed the bears by a whisker. On the way we saw another herd of about 8 gaurs around a waterhole. It was a wonderful sight to see its calf. It looks so cute that you almost can’t believe your eyes; how can someone so cute turn into such a monster once fully grown. Well I am sure everyone who saw me as a kid thinks the same now :-)

Another herd near the water-hole

We then entered the territory where leopards are spotted frequently. Sadly, there were no signs of the magnificent panthers this time around. Akash asked the cabbies to halt the car and wait for some time. As the rumbling of the engine ceased, I poked my head out of the car window. I could then hear the usual jungle sounds; the frantic calling of the Sambhar Deer and sounds of the birds filled the air.

We waited for sometime at that spot but the leopard didn’t oblige so decided to move on. As our jeep chugged along, we saw a big flock of peahens flying away from roads towards the jungle. It was a pretty sight; there were so many of them!

We then got into the once-extinct Forest Owlet area of the park. I’d read about the forest owlets in Melghat and was excited to see them. Even the gang got excited when they heard about the rediscovery. We all poked out heads out and looked for it but couldn’t find them either. This was disappointing. As we moved on, we saw another herd of the gaurs. None of us were too excited to witness them again so we moved on.

We went back to our tents after stopping over at a check post. We all got to the top of it and witnessed the jungle in its full glory. I’d read that once of the real problems Melghat faces is wildfires. I realized the gravity of the situation when I saw fires lighting up a far away mountain. I hoped that the animals are safe.

The watch-tower

We got back to our tents to the spot of the flying squirrel. It’s the only mammal without wings that can fly. Actually it’s a glider and can glide across 80 meters. There were plenty of them around Semadoh Tourist Complex (STC). I kept on hitting the flash-light on tree tops and saw probing eyes shining back at me on almost every tree top.

There is also the bone-dry Sipna River next to the complex. When walking towards the Korku house for dinner, I hit the flashlight on the river and saw something else shining over in my direction. We went closer and saw that it was the nocturnal common nightjar. I suppose it’s a lazy bird like me. It never dared to fly even when so many of us kept on flashing torch-light at it.

Post dinner, we decided to spend the noisy people back to the tents. A few of us who were really interested decided to stay back and wait for the animals to come looking for water in a water hole at the dry Sipna. Bunty kept on warning us that it’s a very dangerous situation as this water hole was the only primary source of water for the animals for the next 200 meters and it’s not too safe to stand lurking around there.

After a few minutes, we heard a breathing sound emanating around the river. Bunty hit the torch-light in its direction and we saw two Wild Boars. We then grew restless and wanted to wait a little more but it wasn’t with much luck. Though we heard rustling of leaves nearby, we didn’t spot anything and decided to call it a day.

Day 2:

Morning of day 2 was set aside for some amateur bird watching. It was planned around the much heard Kolkas Rest House. We all set out early and were greeted by an enthusiactic gang of Rhesus Macaques.

A rhesus macaque in an introspecting moment

A herd of macaques

The Kolkas VIP rest house

Kolkas Rest House - Overlooking the Sipna river

It was great to see everyone so much interested in looking out for birds. For some it was like a consolation to see exotic birds, if not a tiger. We saw plenty of birds. A few notable names that we saw:

The very cute oriental magpie robin, Indian robin, pied wagtail, Common/small blue kingfisher, large blue kingfisher, white throated kingfisher, Golden back woodpecker, lesser golden back woodpecker, spotted dove, green pigeon, the babblers, golden oriole, plum headed parakeet, common parakeet, Snake/Serpent Eagle, purple sunbird, Shikra, the red wattled lapwing, White necked Stork with its chick in its nest, Common Drongo, Racket Tailed Drongo, The tree-pie, Indian roller or the blue jay and plenty of other birds. It truly was a learning experience for me from ornithological point of view.

The solitary snake eagle

A pair of Indian Roller

The white necked Stork


Jungle babblers doing what they are best at - babbling

The morning ended with us having poha at Kolkas. We moved back to our tents - scathed and got out for lunch. Akash then took us to the museum inside the NIC (national information center) of Semadoh and gave a good briefing about the place, the korkus, the tigers, sloth bear, fauna found around the place and the general geography of the area. It was another good experience.

Post-lunch, I had a power nap and then it was time for the next jungle safari. We didn’t spot many animals this time around. I vaguely thought I saw a sloth bear moving far-away in the jungle but the car didn’t stop at the right time so couldn’t verify whether it really was a bear. We saw a few gaurs again. I couldn’t believe people got so excited about the bird watching that they started spotting birds flying around instead of spotting animals!

Check-post at KuwaPati

We saw some more pea-fowls and peahens this time around and got back to our tents. We asked Akash to look for necessary permissions and take us to any machaan during the night; which he did. We were all too excited to go wait at a machaan when the night is at its darkest.

We reached at kolkas post dinner and then proceeded towards the machaan there. It was close to a waterhole.

Machaan

A group of gaurs were already posted there to welcome us. I kept on pestering people to keep pin-drop silence.

And pin-drop it was. We could even hear grunting tummies! After sometime we heard noises emanating from eth water-hole nearby. Bunty switched on his flashlight and we could see a sloth bear moving around the water-hole. On one such position, I saw its eyes shine against the torch-light. That looked scary!

We kept on hearing voices around the bushes but not strong enough to interrogate (we didn’t want to drive the animals away with our constant pestering either).

After sometime we decided to call it a day and got back to our cars. While we got out of Kolkas, we spotted a pair of Sambhar Deer gazing at us. They followed good road discipline as they crossed the road keeping a keen look on the vehicles passing. We also saw Indian Hares (Khargosh) around this place. It was then time to get back to our tents and sleep.

Day 3:

There was nothing much left to do on the third day as we had out trains at 10 AM in morning. We started the retreat and got back to Badnera just in time. It was time to bid adieu to the wilderness, Akash and the wild photographer!

If the trip was awesome, the return journey was an experience in itself. The train seemed like a oven amidst the sweltering heat. We couldn’t find tickets for 3rd AC while coming back so had to settle for sleeper. That added to our woes but everyone was sweet enough to take it on their stride, not crib and keep smiling! We survived the heat and got back to our homes just in time to catch some good sleep and get ready for office the next day!

All of us were pretty sure that we had a rocking trip. People were happy with us for organizing a near-perfect trip! :-P.

Some of the sporty gangstas would be leaving soon. A few like Ganesh, Swarup and Apeksha would quit to do their MBA and stuff and the other would get entangled in the rat-race of onsite, weekend meetings and deadlines but the pleasant memories amidst the 44 degree heat would always remain etched in my memory.

Contact details:

Get in touch with a local guide for a fruitful journey. Akash's number is (9822278864) and website is http://www.melghattourism.com/.

Pics: http://picasaweb.google.com/n.rajitr/MelghatTigerReserve

Hanuman Langurs twittering

View from the inside

Nature at its best

And then the sun-sets

Odontophobic, Me!

So what do you find the most scary? People? Ghost? Places? Animals? Trees? Terrorists? Mice? Flies? Caterpillars? Stock Market Crashes? Osama? Obama? LEHMANN BROTHERS?

Ever wished that you never get to have a date with your favorite creeps? Well I did too. The scariest thing I can vaguely remember having encountered are the packs of centipede you find in the jungles in monsoon. Given them a chance and they would crawl over everything. Your feet, your hands, face and when you think you’ve seen the worst, you'd find a big group partying on your back. Their crimson shade and a curly, curvy, glossy appearance ensure you want to faint the moment you see one on you. My feelings for a dentist hovers somewhere around there.

The phobia for dentists dates back to schooldays when I got my first real tooth pain. I remember the day when a shrill went down my spine as I chewed something with my decayed tooth. That was the worst pain I've ever had in my life.

The same week, I went to meet a dentist. I vaguely remember the day. She didn’t talk much; just asked me to sit on a reclining chair. I thought, why not? She inspected my mouth for a few seconds.

What happened next is something that is etched on my memory ever since. She switched ON a light and pulled it on my face. I'd only seen these in Mithunda movies when the bad-cop would question Mithunda, pour water on his face and do excruciating things to him.

So the spotlight was on me and I am no Mithunda. I am more of a terrified little wimp. The next thing I saw is the doctor trying out her drilling machine. Now I'd never seen a doctor with a drilling machine before. And I thought, if at all, it would be used on the very serious and complicated cases like mining for diamonds hidden underneath your medulla oblongata! I thought she'd devote some of her attention to me and cure me of this excruciating pain in my....teeth.

The next thing I remember, I saw the spot light, the drilling machine, the dentist...all closing in on me. But recline of the chair would take me lower and lower. I remember I was falling....weightless, clueless...the drills were badly trying to get me and they did. It hit a corner of my tooth and I could take it no longer: I simply fainted.

Normalcy was restored when I was given some water and the recline restored in such a manner that blood would run into my brain. I opened my eyes and saw the dentist giving me a condescending look.

I never visited a dentist again for the next few years till things turned out pretty bad. It was about 3-4 years later and the same tooth when mom took me to another dentist who promised a magic cure called RCT (Root Canal Treatment). They would remove all the damaged nerves of my teeth and replace it with synthetic ones. And with it would vanish the pain and the agony. I was ever so happy!

But this again was a painful exercise for me. I would be summoned every week and every time I'd go there hoping it’s the last. Since it never ceased, I decided that enough is enough and lived on with a hollow on my tooth. I avoided dentists ever since. I suspected I am odontophobic.

So 10 long years later, when I discovered a part of my teeth broken and coming off with a slice of sandwich, I was petrified about meeting Ms Frankenstein again. It was a different tooth and having past experience, I knew that RCT is the only way out. I made umpteen enquiries about good doctors around the park. Around the same time I started getting nightmares of the drilling machine.

On Isha's recommendation, I went to see her dentist. I was petrified to say the least. So I did all kinds of research online. I read a discussion on forum that if LA doesn't work the way it’s supposed to, the doctor would prick the nerve out and inject the anesthetic straight into it. This was supposedly the worst kind of pain mentioned and which everyone had invariably suffered once. I kicked myself for reading.

The day of appointment arrived and she said that I can start the process that very day and it would get over in a day or two. It was a catch-22 for me. Neither was I prepared for the game nor could I withstand the agony of the painful tooth. When she asked me whether I’ve had breakfast, I found a leeway and ran out of the clinic citing I am there with an empty stomach.

I took an appointment due 2 days hence and decided to call in Isha this time to give me some 'moral support' :P.

She was only interested in freaking me out even more. The doc gave me LA and asked me to wait for some time and then later, started drilling and cutting inroads. I felt a twinge and I screamed. I thought it would prompt her to go a bit slowly.

But it didn’t. I could see her reaching for the syringe again from the right corner of my eye. And then I thought of the forum discussion. I was scared. I dreaded that the most discussed process of injecting anesthetic into my nerve was about to begin. I waited with my fingers, hands, legs, shoulders; and everything crossed.

I screamed before she got the syringe into my mouth. She then asked me to be patient. And so I did; all patient, eyes shut - waiting for the needle to poke my nerve. When it did, I could feel a twinge. By Jove it was painful! My heart was racing. I could do nothing but persist and several agonizing seconds later, I sat there not feeling anything, heaving a sigh of relief.

I then lay there with my mouth wide open, needles of various kinds poking the teeth in contention. Broken pieces of teeth flying around like saw-dust. And an hour later, the ordeal was over. She said the RCT itself was over. Now I was scared again; how someone can wrap a month long process in a single sitting!

I asked her whether it’s going to pain anymore and she said that RCT is a surgical procedure and there would be traumatic pain. PAIN!!!! I suffered all this to get rid of my pain and here she was telling me that the pain has just started! I was furious and left for home feeling dejected, waiting for the pain to start all over again!
Thankfully, it didn’t ;)

She summoned me the next day; an appointment that I skipped just to test how my fractured tooth is keeping. It’s been a week since and I am yet to pay her a visit. The thought of going back to the drills still scares me and now I get that strange scary feeling again.

The next appointment is for the morrow. The drilling machine nightmares have made a comeback too. Wish me luck. Hope I make it ;)