Hand made divinity

I stepped out of the inter dimensional space ship and walked into the lobby. Much as I had expected, it was raining. Don’t be confused ! I call my Elevator that. When I got into the elevator, on the seventh floor, it was bright sunny and beautiful, when I got to the ground floor, the intensity of rain would have made Noah start on his boat earlier. Therefore, I make it a rule to carry sunglasses and an umbrella in my bag at all times (just a bit of unnecessary information. FYI I dont lend either of them to anyone !!!). Needless to say, as every story needs a conflict, I had one. It was pouring like the Armageddon and I didn’t have an umbrella. Thus began my futile search for dry land and a rickshaw. A rare phenomenon in Mumbai .The Ganesh festival hustle bustle had made it worse. There were pandals everywhere !! Bamboos sticking out of nowhere. My favourite part of the festival though, were the the streets that are dotted with merchants selling Ganesh Idols. There is Lord Ganesha everywhere !!! Its never enough to just marvel at the beauty of the idol….

A polite, “Bhaiyya, JUHU chalenge ???” turned to “Juhu chal teri maa ki..(beep beep beep beep)” by the time I got the rick.

The rain, the smoke and the construction work in the city would make you want to pour alcohol all over yourself, sit on a drum full of TNT and play with a matchbox. Oh yes, and the beggars (They’d make you light the match). When I got off from the inter dimensional space ship, the space travel had probably made me delirious that today was going to be a “Good” day. As my rickshaw moved an inch every minute, I realized I had a lot of time to kill. “Kya Madam kitna traffic (we don’t need no education) udhar se jaatey toh jaldi (we don’t need no thought control)…” The rickshaw wala’s idiotic remarks got remixed with the song. The signal turned green, the rickshaw wala shut up. Started the engine, moved an inch and stopped the rickshaw. The Signal had gone red again much to his dismay. He just wanted to dump me off!

Needless to say, a little boy beggar walked up to the rickshaw and asked me to spare some change. I waved my hand which is classic for “go away”. He made a sad face, scratched my feet, tapped my knees, kicked my rickshaw and walked away. Pretty routine for a person like him. Just then I noticed a woman around the corner who was arguing with an elderly man wearing a green coloured t shirt that said “I am really awesome at being humble” . She was trying to strike a deal with him for a portrait of Radha Krishna. She finally succeeded at getting it at her price and got into a rickshaw. (Bravo, I said softly to myself) . She suddenly climbed out of the rickshaw and started dusting herself off and kissed the portrait and stomped off saying “Inn logon ko rickshaw chalaane kaun deta hai”…

I waited patiently so that my rickshaw could move another inch so I could get a glance of the driver. He was wearing a white cup shaped cap, had a thick beard, dark brown eyes and there was a verse of the Quran on the back of his seat. She had gotten off the rickshaw because he was a Muslim and she was a strict Hindu Brahmin. She stood in the pouring rain for a rickshaw but did not get into the same rickshaw. Mean while the man with the green shirt had moved on to another client. He seemed to be very friendly and was making small talk with the green man. As the signal turned green, and I inched closer. His shop was called “Ishwar Creations” (Ironic …eh… ?). His shop particularly did not have any Ganesh Idols to my surprise. As my rickshaw moved past the shop, I overheard the client asking “Akbar chacha, yeh saal dukaan mein ganpati nahi rakkha ?? ” and Akbar chacha aka the man in the green tshirt replied “Saare bik gaye beta !!! “

(R.I.P. for the woman's soul,for when she finds out)

The tales of the teeth I lost

Six tube lights with metallic casings, one big bright bulb shining in your face, the sound of a drilling machine somewhere in the background and a person staring at your face…

I know what you’re thinking…What the hell is she doing in a Police interrogation room ??? No ! I wasn’t in an interrogation room. I WAS IN THE DENTIST’S OFFICE. Yes. Well, my experiences with the dentist have not always been very pleasurable. They’ve begun with “Oh My God !” and ended with “Phew Thank God”. Neither of which are very reassuring statements to hear even in normal conditions, let alone when someone is examining your insides and your jaw is sore from his hands sticking into your mouth.

Dentists scare the S#!t out of me. My first dentist was a very tough man. I visited him first when I was around ten or so…and his lab was in an old dilapidated building. He happened to be an old friend of my dad’s. My father joked about his office once…”I think your building needs a “Root canal and a filling” ahahahhaha”. Even the imaginary fly sitting on the dentist’s nose didn’t move because his expression didn’t change one bit. “Well at least I tried” my father thought. The next day, a slab of concrete fell onto what once used to be, the dentist’s reception desk. Oddly after that I never got an appointment with him. Hmmm…I wonder why…Now when I look at the building, it reminds me of Frankenstein’s apartment where the mad dentist kills people by pulling out their teeth one by one…without Anasthesia…very funny actually because they would make toothless ghosts !!!

Now I just think the poor chap was Anthropophobic

So began the next search for a dental surgeon. My friend’s friend who inci-dentally was my father’s friend’s, brother’s, son’s, friend, acci-dentally stumbled across someone who was to be my next dentist. So we went to his clinic and he’s been my dentist ever since. (Do not make me take names…He is extremely reputed and famous and shit expensive) I’ve been going to his clinic for 14 years now. But it only struck me in my last visit to him that he has put out a bowl of candy at the reception ! OUTSIDE SWEETS INSIDE SWEATS !!! The horror of it. This, my friend, is called, “Generating business”. The guy has a brilliant mind. Anyway he was just as expensive but not as tough. At least he would say “ Sit Janhavi…” my earlier dentist would just point at the chair. He would then say “Open your mouth” (My old dentist used to wait and if I wouldn’t open, I think he would have pinched me so that I holler in pain. At least my mouth would open)

So this guy treated me very well and getting an appointment was a mess totally. It took a month for an appointment. Dreadful. Just before one of my fillings, I thought let me initiate some small talk. I told him once “Doctor, actually you should compensate me for these tooth decays” I expected him to say “Why” (Huh. The impossible things that I dream of). He didn’t (Of course). So I continued anyway “…. because, the waiting period on your appointment list is so long that my cavities deepen in your waiting room .…ahahahahahhahaha…”. Needless to say, the procedure was more painful than it would have been if I would have opened my mouth only when he asked me to do so. I really wished kicking oneself in the shin was physically possible that one time in my life. People who know me will believe it when I say, I am very talkative. Every time in the middle of the process of a cap fitting or a filling, he would say, “Janhavi, stop wagging your tongue” literally ! So when he knew it was going to be a long process, he would stuff my moth with a lot of cotton…under the pretext “There will be a lot of saliva !”

My boyfriend’s father’s sister’s husband’s brother’s younger son inci –dental-ly (The joke is getting old I think) a dentist. He jokes around, talks more than me. So the tongue wagging is compensated. I just nod in appreciation. He gives me a running commentary of what is being done.. “Janhavi now I am going to inject you with an anesthetic, (Then a pink needle comes in view and enters my mouth. and my jaw goes numb)…now I am going to drill your tooth. It is a painless but very noisy procedure (a metal drill comes into view and Brrrrrrrrr….drrr.whirrrrr….by this time the noise is so unbearable, my ears decided to take better care of my teeth)...

There were at least fifteen different colored needles on the table and I am sure all of them paid a visit to “Nerve land” . I bet when the dentist used the needles, he was thinking, “This little piggy went to market...This little piggy stayed home…this little piggy had roast beef….” I did not have the stomach to look at how many he had used…

The best part about this new dentist is that he is multilingual… He speaks English, Hindi, Marathi, Gujrathi, Malayalam and since he’s been in Dubai for 15 years I think he can manage a little bit of Arabic as well. Its like listening to Worldspace radio !!!

This time around I’ve decided to keep my mouth firmly shut unless requested to do otherwise or else I’m going to make a lot of dentist enemies in a, lot of different states in India and in Dubal….