Mode C is as much for Calvin as it is for Chaos, as much for Cool as it is for Cold, as much for Class as it is for Crass.

Mode C is a way of life, the Calvin way of life which I am so fascinated by as to keep trying to make it my own way of life. But what exactly is Calvin's way of life, you ask...and I say that there are no clear answers to this one.

I strongly believe, however, that almost all the seriously critical fundamental concepts of life, they are just the bogies under Calvin's bed that he is afraid of. Everyhting else...Miss Wormwood, Susie, Mom and Dad, and of course above all, Hobbes...aren't they all merely the means that he uses to attack these bogies?

It is nothing, therefore, but the perspective of each of these players on the stage of Calvin's dramatic life that helps him fight these bogies and move on in his own unique way...listening to all but doing only what finally makes sense to his own individuality. This is what comes closest, I guess, to the Calvin way of leading one's life...

Thursday, December 23, 2004

No longer a virgin

I have been violated. I have been opened, explored and penetrated. The experience, as I had heard earlier, was truly bitter sweet. There were times when it pleased me but all the same, there were moments when the pain was intense. The pleasure was intermingled with instances of awkward disturbance when all my innards protested against the invasion of my body. It was, after all, my first time with the dentist :-)

For the past three months, I have been having this tingling sensation at the back of my teeth set whenever I had anything cold. Ice-creams, cold drinks, et al were rapidly becoming unaffardable and the sword of tooth cavity was hanging precariously over my head. Since I had to come home anyway, I decided to give the neighborhood dentist shop one shot...luckily, the shot was worth it. There was no cavity in my teeth but only a little abnormality in the way my Wisdon Tooth had shaped up. It had turned up a little slanted and had actually lost touch with the gums, creating a gap that the dentists call the fourth pocket. This pocket had, in turn, been filled with foreign material which needed to be cleaned up for any relief from my condition.

As is true with any professional worth his salt, the dentist, despite assuring me that I had a set of wonderful teeth, advised professional cleaning to make sure that the teeth remain even close to wonderful. And that is what I had to undergo when it felt as if something external had overcome me and my body. The saliva-dripping, saliva-sucking pipe, the water spraying jet, the adhesive-fixing gun, the tongue-restraining God-knows-what...all of them moved freely inside my mouth and made merry as if it was their territory and I was just a minor inconvenience.

The long and short of it is that going to a dentist is okay as long as the dentist does not start any 'professional' stuff. As soon as he starts talking of that, let the warning bells start ringing and let the preparations begin for an orgy where the patient, that is you or me, is not even a mute spectator, but actually the much-punished victim.

Posted by Nitai at 8:08 PM
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