Down the memory lane

I wish I had enjoyed my childhood better.. dont know why I was in such a rush to grow up.... I guess, I still am.. but hopefully I wont grow up faster than is needed... in fact sometimes I behave worse than a child.... these days... lost in the process of normal growing, I guess...

When I look back at my childhood, I do remember how excited my parents were, me being their first child.. and their beloved daughter... my birth was actually celebrated in more than one ways in-spite of slight frown on faces of my extended family members... for my parents, it was an opportunity to change the system in their own ways .. my mom was never loved because she was 2nd daughter and her mother died soon after due to pregnancy related complications.. For my mother, it was important to break that viscous cycle... and my father supported her unconditionally.. I was the one who benefited the most, their precious daughter. Even the name they gave me means 'beloved', I was brought up to challenge every norm, to break every rule, to question the system...

I wonder why I started thinking about my upbringing and my childhood today... may be because I have been going through hundreds of family pictures, many are damaged now, thanks to seeping walls and moisture inside... I wish I would have scanned those pictures early on.. I was quite the focus of number of those pictures, more so than my younger brother.. he hated being photographed.... I went through a pictorial journey of our life, snapshots at various moments, lot of memories came gushing by... and so did the tears...

I had a lot of dolls as a child, but as I entered teens, my mother started giving away my dolls and toys to other children, who could not afford to own a toy.. I don't think I resisted at that age.. but by the time I turned 15, I started feeling the loss.. I had no memories of my childhood left, memories that could be touched, cuddled, hugged, smelled.. It was my 15th birthday that I started buying dolls again... she was a real size doll, she still is. Her name is Josephine, Jo... I saw hundreds of her pictures this evening, she was integral part of my adolescence... she was named after my favorite character from a Novel, 'little woman'.. Josephine  Jo.. pale skinned, blue eyed with golden hair... I never had friends so Jo became my confidant..

few years later, I left home but Jo stayed on.. giving company to my mom... she is now a young girl, 18 years old.... Mumbai is hot, dusty and humid, perfect weather to destroy everything beautiful.. same happened with Jo, she requires more frequent washing and bathing . and my mom took care of her along with 30 odd other dolls of mine that I collected over years... In this trip, though, I was strictly told to give away all my dolls or to take them to Basel with me...it sounded like a death sentence... but I know that my mom is serious.. what I am not sure is what I want to do... give these guys away... or take them with me.. but how? what about luggage restriction? Is it worth the effort? But can we really evaluate the emotional significance of things and memories? I cant throw away anything.. I get attached to even a tiny piece of paper, an envelop, an old box, a little note, dried flowers and so on.. there is no way I can let go of my toys.. and dolls.. they mean a world to me... each one of them has a story and each one of them has a name and a personality of their own... they are my family... even my old worn out Dutch bike Sally is my family... I cant put her to rest... She is still waiting for me in Groningen... someday we will reunite..

Blanquito, came from Bangladesh, his soft, snow white fur tickled me to death.. he is one naughty boy.. he had a friend, a little mouse in my student apartment in Dhaka... the mouse ate my books but did not touch Blanquito... and then I had a little frog.. it was Ramiro's frog.. I just saw some of his pictures a while ago... Blanquito came into my life through Ramiro... who also gave him this Spanish name... Ramiro left long ago but Blanquito stayed on... Later we had another huge wild bear... golden brown, soft and furry.. Caffecito..... gentle, loving, well behaved, nerdy boy... who is absolutely boring in traditional sense.. but he is my sweetheart... His name came from my favorite book, 'Caffecito story'... by Julia Alvarez... Blanquito and Caffecito became soul mates, in many ways just like me and my brother only the characters got reversed... Blanquito dropped out of school at age of 4 and Caffecito went to Cambridge at an extreme young age...

Then came Mogli... the yellow bear... I was training a group pf counselors in Chennai.. it was intensive one week training, quite tiring and emotionally exhausting... Somehow some one in my participants, learned about my fascination for soft toys... on the last day of the training... they brought Mogli to me.. as a token of their gratitude... I was overwhelmed.. Mogli radiates that empathy, all the while.. key character of a good counselor.

Charlotte came into my life quite unplanned.. I was walking through a crowded market in Delhi, and this girl just looked at me... and I knew I had to bring her home... She was the biggest... and I remember flying home from Delhi with this big doll in my hand... the regular crew of the flight thought that it was a present for my daughter.. I smiled and said, it is a present for myself.... My niece had major crush on Charlotte... at some point, this girl cried so hard that I gave her my Charlotte... I cried too but silently...

and then there are Elmo, and Earny and Manchu and Pingoo... and Emily and Anouk.... at some point, I lost track of them... there is a tiny doll, my precious little baby... her name is Anamika, which literally means the one with no name... she is really special... she came to me in Pondicherry.. I was working with local women's group after Tsunami that hit in 2004... east cost of India was badly hit.. most fishermen had died leaving behind women... the loss of life, property was so immense that these women could barely cry.. they were choked.. could not really cope with the situation... one of the counselor in the group one day decided to try something new... she brought some small pieces of cloth, local materials, colored pens and paper.. Group of women sat around in circle... lost, disconnected from the self and the life around.. they stared blankly at the huge expanse of the ocean.... and at some point, one of them came forward.. she picked up a few things and started fiddling with it... soon she picked up a bright purple piece of cloth with golden border, typical cloth that women in south India wear... and Anamika was born... a tiny doll, size of smallest finger.. but clad in bright cloth. The woman held this tiny doll to her chest and broke into tears... that was the moment we were eagerly waiting for.... soon Anamilka became symbol of new life, new hope... these women made thousands and thousands of these tiny dolls.. it ignited their imagination and creativity, it gave them a sense of well being, they started taking active interest in making these dolls... they asked for more fabric and other supplies... we had finally broken the ice.. thanks to Anamika.. I have one with me.. who reminds me of that extraordinary moment of her birth... birth of life, birth of hope, birth of wanting to live on... 

In pursuit of functional teeth

On my flight to Mumbai, I watched a movie , Camille redouble, a French comedy. A woman gets a chance to recreate her life, rather a chance to make decisions from her past all over again.. will she chose the same path? Or she would go for things that are drastically different....

This morning, while being seated in a dentist's chair, I suddenly remembered this movie and its central theme... If I get a second chance at life like Camille, I will chose a path which will ensure a set of healthy functional teeth...

If one thing I ever took too casually in life, it has to be my dental health. I just did not realize what was at stake there and how I am going to pay through the nose to restore teeth in future. All my life I have been fond of eating but forgot that I need good teeth to enjoy food. I have never investigated the causes of poor teeth in my family, yes it runs in the family and I guess I am the one who is least affected.. but as I describe what being least affected means, you will understand the fate of others in my family...

I have pretty white teeth. I often get compliments for their whiteness, and that is natural. This definitely has not been enhanced or engineered. I cant smile without displaying my teeth. But what gets displayed is only a part, not a complete truth. It is not easy to believe the tragic story of my teeth but trust me it is tragic. What you see is not always what it is.. and that's what I know for sure when it comes to my teeth.

I always had carries as a child. My mom blames it on my obsession for chocolate and reluctance to brush my teeth. I blame it on faulty genes. My permanent teeth were affected by carries too and by the age of 14, five of my permanent molars were extracted by my former dentist. For those who do not know what molars are, these are the big teeth that you need for grinding and biting hard food, they also give support to your face structure.I can now say that this was the worse medical or dental decision I could have made in those days.. but what did 14 year old know? I really wish my dentist would have made me see the consequences of those actions.. but he did not. Root canal treatment could have saved all of those teeth, technology had become available in India by then. But as a family, we could not afford the cost and nor did we have time to undergo long root canal treatment for 5 of my molars. Extracting teeth was an easy and cheaper option... and that is what we chose without much deliberation... those of us in ethics, who always talk about patient's autonomy, here is an example how patients make choices... not what is the best but what is affordable..

So more or less for 20 years now, I am like an older person who has lost teeth when it comes to eating well, chewing well. I have acquired a preference for soft food. Give me an apple to eat and I cry, it takes me ages to chew and eat an whole apple simply because I don't have the required teeth in my jaw. Bananas, mangoes  berries, papayas and melons, all soft, pulpy fruits became my favorites not because I don't like the others but because these are easy to chew... I cant eat anything that requires active chewing with molars.. I bite and chew with my front teeth.... which are not meant for that.. watch me eat a carrot and I actually look like a bunny because I am using my front, white teeth to chew carrot... if you have not realized it yet, digestion and absorption of food gets affected if you don't chew it well and I have experienced this effect over years now...

When I entered medical school, I decided to seek help for fixing my teeth. I went to a teaching dental school, because that is where treatment is often for free, it takes a long time but young doctors in training get to learn a lot from cases like me. I was myself a doctor in training.. so I know what such patients mean to us.. I was ashamed of my empty jaws. It took tremendous courage to walk into one of those out patient clinics. I knew what was going to happen but I had clearly underestimated it. The professor looked into my mouth, positioned the over head light and ordered a huge class of dental students to take a look... he actually said, 'this is a museum piece. You wont find many cases of permanent damage like this..at least in today's world. Take a good look and tell me all the wrong decisions that have been made here and all the impacts this young woman is going to face in her future'... I shrank into myself, I wish I could disappear.. I was surrounded by crowd of dentists, those words had already killed me and had painted bleak future for me... everyone peeped into my mouth one by one... I had tears rolling down my cheeks but no one noticed... my open jaw started hurting by holding that position for so long... the discussion started and I knew I was in deep trouble and there was very little that can now be done to restore my lost teeth. This experience took away my courage to ever seek help again at least in a public health care system. Most importantly it taught me how to treat my patients with respect and dignity. I lived with utter shame from that day on... with the teeth, I also lost my dignity and pride in a way...

A close friend of mine who also happens to be a dentist, referred me to his own professor of dentistry who has his private clinic. This friend knew about my trauma of seeing a dentist.. he assured me that this professor is different and i wont go through any humiliation and I can trust his advice. He actually went with me for the first consultation. I was shivering with fear... did not know what to expect. The face of the professor grew serious. He made X Rays, took molds  carefully listened to my history. He was such an empathetic listener.. at ones I felt at ease in his hands.. He explained to me in clear and simple words what has happened.. it was about 10 years after the damage had been done. He suggested a removable denture. There were two clear reasons, to improve my chewing capacity, my lower jaw bone was already loosing its structure and most important was to ensure that the molars from the upper jaw don't overerrupt, thus compromising interlocking of teeth in upper and lower jaw. I understood everything and consented for the procedure.. I had artificial denture at the age of 23.. no wonder I feel like old woman all the time.. but this removable bridge seriously affected my speech... I am a public speaker and I love to speak.. I talk all the time and my job required me to talk and to train... I could not dare to open my mouth and speak with that dental bridge... I truly sounded weird and I felt weird.. talking, the activity that I loved the most, felt like pain... my dentist encouraged me to continue using it with hope that eventually I will regain my clarity of speech... but I was not patient enough... and I preferred good speech over good bite.. I gave up on the denture... this time entirely my responsibility... and embarked full force on my career.. it is true that my speech made me successful but my biting became further week and over years the upper teeth over-erupted, because of the gaps in my teeth, the other teeth grew and tilted in all possible directions, it basically changed alignment of all my teeth and the jaw bones.. I could still smile showing of my white front teeth.. but beyond that is a dark hole... absence of teeth... These last 10 years, I have been everywhere but in Mumbai... in-spite of having a great dentist, I could not benefit because I was never there... but I stayed in touch with this professor and every time i was home I made sure that I had my regular dental check... by then my mom and brother had become his dedicated patients.

Good thing is the technological development in the field of dentistry and at the same time, there was improvement in my affordability. It took a while, a long while but finally I found myself in perfect situation.. I had a great dentist, the dental implants became easily available in India and I could afford it. Last year, I finally decided to go ahead with major rework on my teeth... It was an ambitious plan given the fact that I visit Mumbai once a year, I live on student visa in Europe which practically means I do not have access to good dental care and I cant afford to seek even emergency help while being abroad.. but I have a dentist who is highly professional, skilled and capable of carrying out a lot of dental work without much pain or complications in such short while. In my last trip of 10 days, he inserted two titanium implants in my lower jaw.. the procedure that sounded ghastly... like boring a hole through the jaw bone and fitting a peg inside, number of nuts and bolts that go with it.. to make an artificial root for the tooth to be implanted on top... he explained me the procedure, he answered all my concerns, he took me through the process and I felt like an empowered patient. He even promised me that my pleasure for food while I am in Mumbai wont be totally lost and I could eat soon enough all normal soft things.. anyways that is what I always eat.. soft food.. so it did not bother me much.. I just had to control spices... you dont want some salt and red chilly powder over your opened gums and stitches... I was initially scared but after undergoing the first procedure I grew confident.. he often gave me a hand mirror while he worked on my teeth so that I could see what was going on... I loved to be part of that process, to have a look... otherwise I have troubled relationship with mirror.. but being in his dental chair, i absolutely want the hand mirror .... What I distinctly remember in my last treatment with him is that I could not stop giggling in that dental chair.. strange but true.. he would narrate the procedure in his own humorous style as he worked.. and I had hard time to control my laughter.... try and imagine laughing when there is some heavy duty work being  undertaken in your jaws... I guess this experience began the healing process for that deep emotional injury 10 years ago in dental school... and 20 years ago when I consented to remove my permanent teeth without much thought.. There was hardly any pain... and my recovery was uneventful.. I flew out to Europe in a week's time with tiny Xrays and patient notes with all necessary details of inserted implants in case I had to seek emergency help in the Netherlands.. I did not need it.. but I love looking at those XRays... my natural teeth stretching out in all weird directions and there sit the implants, quite well behaved... we needed to give some time so that the jaw bone will accept the metal implant and grow around it, thus giving a permanent fixture.. I kept imagining myself eating an apple some day soon....it was such a joyous visualization.. I kept giggling and I told him about my fantasy of eating an apple... without having to cut it in small pieces or cooking it...

This morning I met him again... the next procedure has started.. it is still not an easy task... one side is more or less straight forward but for the other... we have to do an intentional root canal for an over erupted tooth from the upper jaw, then cut that tooth, put a crown on it.. and make space for an implant below... Root canal that I needed 20 years ago.. I will undergo one tomorrow... my first one.. in a very different context... things have changed quite a bit in that process as well... it seems it only requires two settings now.. I will find out how that goes... but I guess, I am going to fly out of Mumbai with 2 or possibly three strong molar implants... I cant believe it.. I dont know how my jaw will look like when I have more teeth in there.. how will it feel to bite and to eat... I really hope it wont affect my speech.. I love my speech more than my teeth even today.. but I am excited and happy... I will have few additional functional teeth to help me chew and bite... This morning, again with my hand mirror... I kept counting... number of teeth.... I guess I will have total 27 teeth in case everything goes as planned... highest ever since those crazy extractions.... and he reminded me... 'It is not about number of teeth but it is really about restoring function, chewing and strengthening structure of your jaws...' I cant agree less... I cant wait to eat an apple.. I cant wait to open my jaw and see and feel those new teeth... it is my second chance indeed....

and I will continue to eat chocolate... but I have learned to take my teeth seriously.... Thanks doc for this second chance you have provided me with.. I am eternally grateful....

Being Lazy 101

That was my new year resolution.. not that I ever manage to keep my resolution for more than an hour... but that is how I would describe my day today.. lazy.. aimless... just being there... and not being there... I was in many places and with many people in my head.. but most of the time, I was physically in my bed today... trying to sleep or keep my eyes closed... feeling yet another mattress under my back, filtering out traffic honks just outside the window... the road construction work sounds in Basel sound non-existent in comparison to this symphony of music... to make a grand welcome for me, the apartment building where I live has started re-plastering and structural repairs of the building... so there is no dirth of dust and noise.... I am home for sure....

It is warm and humid..... and my skin never misses that clue... I have super-oily skin at the moment.. I never understood this logic of skin glands.. I wish they would secrete all this oil in the cold weather of Europe, so i wont need all those moisturizers..... why ooze the sebum unnecessarily in Mumbai.. there is enough moisture here... but things always do not work as per the logic..

after my initial roaring hunger last night, I am taking it pretty easy... on food front... wonder how long this will last... I go on an eating spree whenever in Mumbai... always wonder what is it that I am eating symbolically .. it is definitely emotional eating... did my baseline weight this morning... and then there will be 'after' measurement... but food habits will be changed.... for sure... no greens and salads, lots of home-cooked delicacies that I cant cook myself or wont even find ingredients... invitations at the relatives with more to eat... my morning drink of honey, lemon and warm water already got replaced by chai tea boiled in milk with herbs and spices... i never make it for myself because it never tastes the same.... but this morning my day began with a cup of tea in bed... at 9am.. my mother spoiling me all over again.....I am home for sure...

My closet doesn't feel like mine anymore... my soft toys are covered with dust.. my mom refused to take care of my 32 odd toys.... I have been told to give them away or to take them to basel... in days ahead..i will bathe them one by one... and wash away all that dirt and other emotional webs... my piles of books.. they are turning yellow too... all those boxes with little memories, hundreds of letters and old diaries... I have my life scattered over the place... old black and white pictures from my childhood.. they are catching moisture.. I have to preserve them somehow...there was a temptation to make a list.. but I resisted.. list is taking shape in my head but it is not on paper yet... this afternoon, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling... should I empty my stuff from here.... why am i occupying so much space here in this tiny apartment.... how often and for how long I will keep returning home? I guess as long as my mom and brother are around... but all other connections and bonds already feel strained... something that I am trying to hold on to.. to keep them alive... but it is a struggle...

I continued to stare at the ceiling.... and there it was.. the ceiling fan... all my life I have been afraid of those... I could never sleep under one because of the fear that it might fall and kill me... in hot Mumbai summers with 40 C temperature.. I would rather soak in sweat but not start the fan.. ridiculous fear but i could never overcome it... my life last three years or so without ceiling fans... was such a bliss.. i had forgotten about this fear till last Thursday night...when I woke up in the middle of night, soaked in sweat.. heart racing... realizing that my fear of the ceiling fans was back... I was paralyzed by this fear.. I was going back to the land of fans... it sank in.. and it provoked all the unsettling thoughts and fears...

I shared this incidence with my brother the next morning... he knows this fear very well... he has suffered silently because of my inability to deal with it... I walked in the bedroom last night to see a brand new ceiling fan... smooth, silent yet strong... no rattling sounds.. no scary looks... will I be safe, I wondered... he looked at me... we said nothing... I did sleep under the fan last night... the blades whirling around fast.. creating 'wind'... cooling the room down.. cooling me down... I kept staring at it... and thinking about it... the fan, the fear, the unresolved conflict... the wind, the temperature, myself, my home, the bonds and connections... past and the present... me, constantly changing, constantly in conflict, restless, in search of something... but what is it that I am really searching for? how do I face all my fears which catch me unprepared.. how do I let go... of all the constraints, emotional or physical and take a leap of faith.. how do I remain honest to myself and to people that matter the most to me... how do I remain me?

I think I have broken yet another resolution... I have not been lazy after all... :(

may be my next resolution should be..' i will hurt my lips to my highest ability each moment..'.. I would so love to break that resolution...