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The obituary of a wisdom tooth

Much talk time on television shows is wasted on the death sentence and the morality issues surrounding it. Countless debates ensue on the unspeakable cruelty that occurs unchecked at modern Auschwitz’s like the Guantanamo bay. But as much as I would have liked to believe that I am face of all human rights abuses, I am forced to reconsider my plea in this regard. News anchors don’t hold living rooms to ransom on my behalf. Amnesty International doesn't file petitions in my name. So amidst much tooth wrenching pain, I have decided to take up my own cause and speak of the unspeakable cruelty that wisdom teeth are subject to.

I presume there must have been some discomfort. My owner keeps holding his jaw and it doesn't look too serious. In my humble opinion, the cause of the pain can be divided into 3 major factors:
  1. The fake smiles (a genuine smile doesn't hurt, trust me)
  2. Junk food
  3. The incessant chatter and gibberish that my master thrusts upon the unsuspecting, innocent and cruel world 
At some point, wisdom teeth tend to become a pain in the ass. When death comes calling, the signs are ominous at first. It wasn't too long ago that I felt my master wince. I have often wondered if there is a heaven for wisdom teeth. I am told of a place called the rainbow bridge where pets go to after they die and wait for their masters to join them. Imagine a place like that for all the wisdom teeth in the world. Whether they want to be reunited with their masters is something to chew on.

Something isn't right. The mouthwash is different, almost antiseptic like. Of course, I can’t be the problem. How can I, ensconced somewhere in the corner of the mouth (sorry for sounding crude), who doesn't feature on any million dollar smile, or any toothpaste ad, be guilty? It feels like being the quiet backbencher who always gets caught for something they never did.

The end comes without warning. What I was hoping for was something like what happens in the movie Dead Man Walking, where everyone is sobbing profusely as they say goodbyes. I’m no hardened criminal (hardened maybe), but I’m treated like one. If only I had known it would be the last time I would get a taste of filter coffee.

It is all dark and I see suddenly see a pair of eyes prying. Steel touches me and I’m tapped by an instrument I've never seen. I wince and then the sentence is pronounced –‘shall I extract it?’ And this ungrateful wretch nods like the moron that I always knew he was. There is no time for goodbyes. I see a tear roll down the second molar, my best buddy since childhood. I try to speak but the words don’t come out. Though central incisor and myself have shared a few laughs, we weren't that close to be called buddies. My thoughts are interrupted by a ghastly sight. Is that a syringe I see? Yes, it is. But what on earth is a syringe doing here, isn't it supposed to be inserted into arms and butts? Do I look like the butt? Oh right, I am the self-professed pain in the ass.

All my screams were drowned out and the needle makes contact with the inner lining. I watch as my master endures the pain and just for a moment, I feel sorry for the fellow. The mouth again opens slowly and FUCK! What is that? An elevator* makes its way toward me and clasps me. So this is what it feels like to be sent to the gallows. I’m held by the scruff of my neck and yanked hard. But I wasn't going to go down easy. I’m yanked again, even harder this time, and I lose my bearings a little and wobble. I’m bruised but not broken. For those who wonder if your entire life passes you by before you die, it does. But it doesn't happen in a moment, that much I can tell you. If you were walking and a piece of frozen food hit you on the head, you really won’t have time to have your entire life pass you by. On the other hand, in torturous deaths like mine where you can see yourself being killed, you have time to think about stuff. 

*elevator is also an instrument used by dentists.

Here’s what I vividly remember in my last few moments:
  1. Rich chocolate cake
  2. The maddur vada I used to relish in my younger days
  3. Soft idlis and the crunchiness of a crispy masala dosa
  4. Strawberry ice cream
  5. Chicken kebab
  6. Sheekh rolls
  7. Onion samosas
  8. Christmas cake where the raisins are sokaed in brandy
  9. Chocolate barfi
  10. Ribbon pakoda
  11. Mixture
  12.  Puliyogare and Chitra anna
  13. Tamil style sambhar
  14. Kannadiga style sambhar

Just as I was getting comfortable, I was again shaken. This time the sense of finality was unmissable. A drill, yes a drill. What, I look like a bore well now? Which gives me just a second more to reminiscence:

  14. Hot rasam
  15. Curd Rice
  16. Papad
  17. Kesari bath 
  18. Semiya payasam 

The drilling begins. It comes straight for me and I lose consciousness as I am slowly hacked up. If there is a god, there is only question I want to ask - why God, in all his wisdom, created wisdom teeth?


The wisdom tooth passed away extremely painfully while it was wide awake, surrounded by close friends and relatives. It is sorely missed. RIP.


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