WHATSAPP FORWARDS

"You will not read any of my WhatsApp messages and so it is useless to send you anything.” My mother said to me. I acknowledged her by my silence mentally reciting," I read all that you sent to me".

So, here I am busy reading all about Indian spices and medicinal herbs used as daily household ingredients, thereby indulging in more studies on naturopathy as compared to any other ‘pathy’ which has side effects.

I speed dialled my mother when my patient refused to undergo the procedure of scaling to clean her teeth in favour of 'alum', or "phitkari," a desi nuskha. No wonder patients shirk away from scaling. I ruminate. "I just called you up to confirm if you WhatsApped something to my patient "I vented.

Ever since, I have been scrolling through all her erstwhile messages to know more about natural healthier medicaments, their benefits and roles in dentistry and health.

Oh! WhatsApp was not there when I was a student. No wonder, my gold medal involved many sleepless nights devouring the dental Bibles while the days were full of rigorous work of treating patients provided in steady streams by our professors.

If only WhatsApp was there, I would just have to read the forwarded messages on WhatsApp.

The Truth About The Paradox Of Life

Salads were the newest additions to our menu list as starters. It owes its origins to friends we visit often like a second home. The mundane sprouts could be part of creative jewellery with pomegranates and cheese cubes that had never occurred to me till I saw them beautifully and colourfully occupying the centre table. The rainbow salad on a different occasion was also mesmerising. The presentation and the warmth with which they served added to the taste as much as to the refreshing memories. As I uncovered the lid of the container on my kitchen slab, I observed that the moth beans had sprouted, and rootlets were visible. I could eat them as much as I could plant them. I decided to plant a few and serve the remaining for breakfast. They lay embedded in the soil with air, water and food in plenty. After a few days, I observed most had not survived. They had turned black and lay on the verge of extinction in that darkness. The paradox of plenty providing in excess is not good. The para...

SCARS ARE FOREVER

A dhoti-clad man stood next to the reception counter where I stood to attend to my daily records. A brief look at his face made me question the nature of his work in the hospital. He opened up his file and handed me his papers. He had undergone surgery for sarcoma maxillary sinus, a carcinoma in the hollow bone adjacent to the nose, twenty years ago. He held a dentist responsible for the negligence caused in extracting his tooth. It resulted in this lifelong illness. My attempts to shake the belief he had held for twenty years seemed an impossible feat. So, I aimed to alleviate his current problem and provide him some relief. The man continued further; he pulled up his dhoti to his thigh. What I saw was no less scary and unsightly. It imitated the brown extensions of the roots of trees above the ground. The lengths and heights varied. Truncated lines existed on those roots and merged well with the background. Nature has its way of designing things up. The thigh from where doctors had r...

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