Thursday, 7 August 2008
I hate my teeth. Always did. I sucked my thumb till I was 6. When I ate, when I saw TV, when I napped, when I crapped, when I read, mostly when I read, and I read a lot. I had sort of a lonely early childhood in England. My mother was then very busy with her D.Phil thesis so she probably overlooked the terrible propensity to suck thumb.When she finally noticed she hated it-she bandaged my thumb once. I tore off the bandage and started all over again.Shit, do I regret it.
My thumbs grew thinner and nobody noticed all that much.Then we were back in Calcutta.On weekdays I was alone mostly, at home with Enid Blytons and Richmal Cromptons and Aban Thakur sucking thumb.Ah the familiarity of that flesh.In constant touch with the saliva and the tongue.I should have paid less attention to the tactile, had more tact instead.
Then I had a new set of teeth. Rodent-like.Nobody got them fixed initially. The first dentist that I went to, in Class 8, discouraged me. He fixed my cavities instead. The next dentist I went to was crazy. He gave me retainers which made me mispronounce such vital words as 'Mississippi'. I was in Class 12, I wore them for two whole months. Wish I wore them longer. I had a gall bladder operation at the time, and a fit of metaphysical madness coincided with a sorry state of sadness. They didn't seem to be of much use, the dentist was a lunatic and 'arf, so I took them off and never wore them again.
Now the teeth be the bone of contention. I hate them, I really do. I hate the fact that two-just two-like a rabbit-dammit, protrude ever so slightly and then sometimes, more deviously, a lot! Now my mother says it serves me right for having that obnoxious habit as a child, but it's just not fair. Everyone gets a second shot, except I. I just get shit. Shit happens to me.Dentists aren't human.They are avatars of Mephistopheles.
But still, they help other people.
Plus nobody understands. I am camera-shy/stiff/sick. I shudder when I see cameras. I clam up. I pout.I do anything to avoid what other people do as naturally as a flower blooming in spring; they smile. I never do. At least not a genuine smile. I do not want those front teeth falling all over each other to dominate the frame. Just so.
It's not about other people; it really isn't. I don't want to look really nice or whatever.I just want my teeth to look different. They are instruments of alienation, for some reason. I know they look perfectly alright. That's OK.
I don't like them.
Won't that ever count? I guess it never does. I guess we live. Never with empathy, but always with half-baked sympathy.Come,give. I can see the comments also.Asking me to not be silly, telling me how nice(or not) I look. It's not about the look. It's about the feel.
Now fuck off.
P.S.-The picture is a rare snap where I'm smiling with the teeth and all.I know it's sort of nice.I don't care. I hate it.Fuck off.