Say ‘oh’ – single, 44, and changing dentists faster than lovers

By Ms Garam Masala

I haven’t changed as many romantic partners as I have changed dentists. But then such is the irony of the beginning of midlife crisis with health issues. So, what if the health issues have begun with the teeth with someone as young at 40?

Now, at 44, I realise that the only constant in my life for the past four years has been the constant search for the perfect match – as in, the perfect dentist.

Why would someone keep changing their dentist, right? Credibility and honesty are what the heart seeks, and dishonesty is what I have encountered, both in love and in medicine.

However, come Covid and gone, my relationship with my dentist has lasted longer than with my lovers. By now I am wondering if it’s going to be “something forever”, or whatever forever means in this tech era of left swipe, right swipe.

Open wide

I don’t think I have spread my legs wide open as many times lately as I have opened and re-opened my mouth, wider and wider, to the call of various men in white gowns with hands of different shapes, sizes and colours. And a couple of women too.

These dentists have helped me put aside my middle-class morality and accept that polygamy is better enjoyed, with both men and women. At least, now I have a new story every month, which makes me more interesting to my Gen Z colleagues too.

Just the other day, my dad reminded me of how many dentists he visited with me initially. I was a scared kid back then. If only he had shown me that many men through an arranged-marriage setup, I may have been married by now.

But now I am glad to be unattached, as polygamy seems more interesting. The shapes, sizes and colours can go beyond the hand, I realise.

The big ‘o’

One of my dentists clearly exhibited chauvinism in his professional behaviour. He would go wild if my jaws slipped and closed a bit. He couldn’t accept it if the cap wasn’t of the size he had thought he had ordered – it was almost like him failing to give an orgasm to the woman, or his manhood being challenged. But yes, he never failed to give a shot of extra anaesthesia to ensure he kept me in a zone, non-vocal and numb.

Numbness is good. It keeps you switched off from all your problems. It ensures it takes all your attention and you happily give it. After all, it is those moments that come without any pain.

My hero

The other boy was typically sweet. He actually enjoyed having me over because he found me funny. Unfortunately, though, he didn’t offer me any discounts for that. Being the typical Sindhi that I am, I actually made him an offer to adopt me, considering the money I was losing to him. Losing a fortune to a dentist hurts as much as the pain of the root canal.

Nayak (‘hero’) was his name. I actually changed the ringtone of his call to the superhit song, Nayak nahi, khalnayak hoon mein (‘not hero, I am the anti-hero’). However, he lost the plot over time. He never gave me enough anaesthesia to keep me numb.

For the past couple of days, I’ve caught myself starring at one of my colleagues. I wondered, why this lust? Ooh la la, he reminded me of Nayak! How much I miss Nayak. Yes, I miss my ex-dentist more than any ex-boyfriend. Life is beyond numbness, I see!

With two teeth extractions, four root canals, one re-root canal, and five caps, today I consider it a responsibility to counsel people about seeing a dentist regularly. I am contemplating becoming a marketing whiz to the dentist fraternity, with a real-time testimony of my journey. And yes, I am still single and unattached. Contact me for further discussions.

An aspiring standup comic, Ms Garam Masala has lit up parties of friends and family with her wit and spontaneity. Scared of public speaking, the Mumbai-based corporate professional writes to keep her creativity alive, hoping one day she can push aside the fear of an open mic and entertain you all!