WAXED UP

      

 

DECEMBER 1988 

                                           

I became what I am today. I thought of the precise moment when my father was just about to leave for his official visit to Germany. A telegram informed me of my admission to King George’s Medical College in the Dental Department. I was excited that I had succeeded in the heavily contested premedical entrance test. When all the dust settled, I thought it to be just dentistry. Some of my friends had been admitted to MBBS while I had trailed despite hard work came to me as a second thought.Dentists reminded me of Dr. Jhatka in Lotpot, a Hindi cartoon magazine, which caricatured him struggling with extractions by raising his tools and forgetting the patient needed a local anaesthetic shot. This comparison was deemed an insult to Dr.Jaidka, our family dentist, a soft-spoken person. My disdain for his profession and that which was soon to be mine lost all grounds.

 

The Lucknow-bound Nauchandi express train carried me to the premier center for dental education. The flight of steps leading to the massive British architectural building that housed the Administrative Block, the well-manicured gardens dotted with a circular cluster of flowers, bordered by razor-straight hedges, was awe-inspiring. We went from one department to another for our medical, deposited our fees, and became the Georgians for a lifetime. All thoughts evaded. Now, I became an aspiring dentist.

 

In the first year of dentistry, we learned to knead the impression compound to take the imprints of the jaw to fabricate dentures. It was on dies (replicas of edentulous mouths in metal). In the second year, we learned the carving of teeth on wax blocks. Measuring the dimensions of each tooth and then gradually removing layers of the wax block to carve out a delicate replica of our incisor, canine, and molar seemed treacherous. The journey of carving from beginning to end was full of myriad mishaps. The axis could deviate, the tooth could tilt, polishing could distort the anatomy, and even a root could fracture. The tripod of the molar would thereby collapse. We had to start from scratch again since there was no scope to add wax anywhere.

 

All this came down memory lane as we were in Montreal. My son and daughter-in-law planned to take us to ‘Grevin,’ the wax museum. Before going into the international arena, we went to the light and sound show. It was very different from the ones we had seen back in India. Contrasting to the ones on the forts, their rulers, and heritage here, it was the chimes, tinkering of glass, and projected nature images. Mesmerizing images, enchanting music, and colorful displays characterized the show.

 

The door further ahead led us into the hall with international dignitaries discussing matters of importance or standing aloof. We communicated with the monarchs, movie stars, Presidents, prime ministers, current and former. All the legends Jackie Chan, Barack Obama, Trudeau, Steve Jobs, Kalpana Chawla, Mahatma Gandhi, and many more stood before us. We made ourselves comfortable on the floor seated with seamen, played hockey, raced cars, traveled on the train singing with Justin Bieber, played tricks with Jack of Pirates of the Caribbean, bowed like Charlie Chaplin with his hat, and even twisted his stick. It was amazing. 

 

Finally, it was time for Oscar. Guess! Who was the recipient? Me. Dancing with Lady Gaga in a beautiful hall with opulent chandeliers, a black and white tiled floor as if it was all in the White House, a live rock band where I played the singer too. The clock was ticking. It was past midnight, time for the party to end. We hurried back and satiated the hunger pangs with cocktails, cuisines, and desserts all in wax. It was time to go, leaving the virtual world, my Avtaar, and my star status at Grevin. A creation, defining all the replicas in wax so flawless, creating an aura of authenticity.The diversity of creation that has inhabited this earth so beautifully waxed up by its creators.