He looked up at the sound of the door like always and as usual their eyes met and spoke.  He said “Good Bye Dear! I may never see you again but you’ll remain in them forever”.    She was surprised that he knew though they had never met actually yet her eyes gave away every secret.

Image source:

PS: Do the 55 words above make any sense to you? …. It didn’t to me :O ….Who wrote? Obviously Mi! mi! mi! 😛 … Do I need help? Seriously!

Teeth are precious!


Aren’t they? Well ask me who has been visting the Dentist over the last 2 weeks. I had been to our family dentist long long time ago when I had a severe pain in tooth one night and the gentleman who knows our entire family teeth history had smartly extracted the culprit but scars remained engraved deeply in my memory and add to it several horror stories I had been hearing, I was firmly avoiding the Dentist and never complained of ‘little pain here and there’. So much so that two teeth fell off on their own after failing to draw my attention. I was relived that my body understood my equation with the dentist and healed itself. But yeah we all have buts in our life and if I had known that noone can ditch the inevitable(read dentist). This time my mouth had declared a full blown mutiny and no amount of ‘home remedies’ or prayers worked, things got to a point where I had to go without food and water literally.

So on a fine weekend I had to give in and see the dentist. The doctor was a man with grey hair and told him my condition and that I had lost two teeth to which he smiled and said I’ll loose a few more and not to worry he and his team will fix everything. So now came the treatment plan which was three teeth to be extracted and two root canals to be done. Then came the actual thing – the cost which was going to almost a lakh rupees(yes you heard it right after all it was one the best hospitals in Bangalore). Naturaly I almost fainted and  the doc understood immediately, said well he can offer some discounts and work a way out. I said whatever way it would be I can never afford it. I was not willing to go  bankrupt for my teeth.  The man was very nice and worked out a solution where it would cost around 40K but still my heart was pounding. He said we can do it in several installments and he will help me in whatever way he can.

So after money issues were solved came the real treatment time and I was terrified as root canals were to be done. The doctor said they will take only an hour and he promised that it will not hurt a bit with a big smile. The doctor who came for treatment was a cheerful young man and he was joking but I was petrified as he asked his assistants for ‘bayonet’ no seriously I had heard it right. Midway through the treatment he asked whether I was feeling any pain and when I replied in negative, he confidently said I’ll say the same when I walk out of the door. Well he was right I actually didnot have much pain when I walked out. Over the next two weeks my treatment was  completed and now I am almost normal.

The moral of the story is if you dare to ignore tooth issues for long the dentist not only drills your teeth but a big hole in your pocket as well. So take good care of the teeth and slightest bit of discomfort in tooth go see a dentist because ‘Teeth are precious’.

An Update : The break up of the initial estimate for treatment or rather mouth restoration(thats what they were saying).

2 teeth implants with bone augmentation = Rs. 60K

A bridge with 3 crown units = Rs. 12K

2 single crown units = Rs. 8K

rest for extraction, root canal treatment etc… almost 1 Lakh right….

Who or What am I?


Well before I delve further into the question let me talk about how I came upon this question in first place. While post hopping I ran into a post “What or Who is a Bong ?” which ultimately lead to a post “The Bong“. These two are posts which describe in detail what does the term “Bong” actually mean. While reading  the posts sometimes I was nodding cheeringly though mostly it seemed the posts were very dated because whatever the characterics of a “Bong” mentioned in there are true but it was something the so called “Bong” used to be many years back. Then I found that one of the post was 4 years old and the posts were written by probasis( expat Bengalis). This fact gave way to the question Who or What am I?

In my earlier posts I have mentioned  that I was born in Hyderabad and spent my early childhood there and then spent 18 years in Kolkata and now staying in Bangalore for last 4 years. So before I go about the actual question let me quote from one of the posts above
“There are two kinds of Bengalis that I know. Probashi or Expatriate Bangalees, a fairly large and diverse group about which I can’t write as I am one of them.
And Bengalees who are from Kolkata. This group is incorrectly known as Bongs, as they are merely a subset.”
Isn’t it a strange classification but thats how we Bengalis are ‘quite strange’. Actually there is a clear distinction between the two mindsets which probably can’t be explained to anyone other than Bengali.
Now going by the above definations where do you think I fit because I have grown up in Bengal but now live outside. You would say a probasi but I really hate to be called that. No I don’t have anything against the expat Bengalis but simply I don’t want to be labeled one. There is another term in Bengali which is onabasi (non resident), I think this one suits me perfect as of now till I switch to any one of the  camps 😛 …( after living outside for quite sometime one becomes a probasi)
PS: As far as my information goes the term “Bong” was initially coined by expatriate Bengalis and I first came across the term in English newspapers referring to bollywood actresses who are Bengalis as “Bong beauty”.



This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 9; the ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

“Look what I have found in his drawer while cleaning his desk today” whispered Sudha nervously handing over the piece of folded paper to Vimal.
“What is it?” replied Vimal, irritated.
“Sssh… Just read it and don’t shout he’s in the other room.” said Sudha in low voice indicating Vimal to lower his voice too.
Vimal opened the paper and read it, frowned and looked at it again. He seemed to be worried too, looked at Sudha and blurted “Are..”
Sudha put her hand on his mouth and whispered “What are you doing slowly”.
Vimal lowered his voice and asked in questioning tone “Are you sure he wrote this one?”.
Sudha irked and retorted “I told you I found it in his drawer moreover don’t you recognize his handwriting?”
“Yes but why would he write such a thing.” replied Vimal and thought something.
“Had I known it then why would I ask you. Shall we talk to a pychiatrist. We need to do something before its too late. Thank God I found this one otherwise…Oh my God I can’t take it anymore…. Please do something..” Vimal hushes Sudha and looks at the paper once again.
“No! No pychiatrist. Right now we have to be very careful on this one. You know how today’s kids are we have to be very careful. I think you need to keep a close eye on him.” Added Vimal unmindfully “Another thing he  should not suspect that we have discovered this note and behave normal with him. We have to be very careful. Meanwhile let me do some enquiries and see how to handle this one..”
“Good Lord never can understand what goes on in the boy’s mind” said Vimal to himself seemingly disturbed.
Vimal switched on the light on the table in his study. The study was a small cosy room with a large window in the left and couch underneath it, there was a table beside it with a huge shelf stuffed with books, adjoining it was another shelf with all kinds of CDs/DVDs. The table had a computer and the usual stuff. Vimal pulled the chair and sat on it. This was his place of recluse and generally was ‘out of bounds’  from the rest of the world.
He pulled the bottom most drawer and found the cigarette pack and the lighter, he looked into the packet and found there were 6 sticks in it still. He pulled out one and went to the couch and looked out of the window. The dark night sky had turned reddish and there were no signs of the stars or the moon. The winds were really strong and the wind chimes were making a strange music. “It must have rained somewhere” thought Vimal aloud. He liked the smell of the first rain and he always liked this climate specially after such super hot days but today he was not really interested in the weather outside.
Vimal looked at the chair and let out a cloud of smoke. He thought I have solved so many complex issues sitting there. That was his ‘idea’ chair. But all those ‘problems’ were solved by his mind but today he’s faced with something that involved his heart too. He took out the note Sudha had given from his kurta’s pocket and looked at it once again.
It said “I AM USELESS I AM A WASTE PLEASE KILL ME” all in capital letters as if the writer of the note was screaming. “Really Brave” he thought about his wife Sudha who didn’t panic on seeing such a note in their only son’s table but actually came to him, like she always did during tough time. So he should not panick but think! Think of a way out of this. His analytical mind started to look for answers to ‘Why?’, ‘What on earth could have gone wrong?’.
Vimal started to think about his son Vishal. Who was an intelligent, enthusiastic, energetic young boy in short a ‘super cool’ dude the ‘Bindaas banda’. Yes that’s what everybody said about their Vishy(that’s what Sudha had called her baby when she first held him in her hands and later Vishy became Vishal for offical documents but remained Vishy to all his loved ones.) He and Sudha had brought up their son very grounded so naturally Vishy was a very level-headed child Vimal thought.Then what had gone wrong suddenly?  No there can’t be any generation gap here as he had always treated his son with the respect and care a young adult deserves the moment he steps into his teens. Vimal had learnt this skill from his own father with whom he never had any generation issues. “So Mr. Vimal where is the gap?” he questioned himself.
Vimal’s thoughts kept going in circles and ending up in the same place irrespective of the fact that le he started to think from a very different angle. What happened to his ‘out-of-box’ thinking abilities he wondered. But he would not give up so easily so he started from the beginning and concluded that only way to get to the bottom of this was to get inside Vishy’s mind but How he thought. Just then a face flashed in his mind. It was the ever smiling face of Tinni. Tonima was Vimal’s sister’s daughter. They lived in same lane and Tinni was a year older to Vishy. They had grown up together and were very close. They were the bestest friends and not just cousins. Vimal felt a little relieved at the silver lining that Tinni seemed to be at that point. Vimal looked at the clock it showed 2.30AM. “Time to go to bed” told Vimal to himself.
“Impossible! Mamu. It can’t be bhai…” exclaimed Tinni jumping up from chair after reading the note.
“I know I know beta this doesn’t make any sense but you know your brother’s handwriting right”.
Tinni didn’t say anything just shook her head in despair as if trying put the peices of puzzle together.
“Ok Tinni beta could it be he was seeing somebody and something happened there. I mean…”
“Oh mamu you know bhai, girls are the last thing he will be serious about.” Tinni a little irritated by the whole thing.
“Whatever it is, you have to help. See you are closest to him so you should try to talk to him and get to the base of all this.”  uttered Vimal and looked at Tinni with hope as if she was his saviour.
“Hmm…’ replied Tinni absent-mindedly.
“Bapi where is ma?” blurted out Vishy looking very  anxious.
“She’s gone to the Kalibari today is Saturday remember. What is it can I be useful?” said Vimal lovingly. He thought this could the opportunity to talk to Vishy directly as Tinni had failed to extract any information.
“No Nothing…” replied Vishy and turned to rush back to his room.
“Tell me what is it maybe I can solve it for you.”
“Well then actually I have to complete an entry for a young writer’s challenge.”
“Oh great what’s the challenge about let me see if I can contribute.”
“No Bapi that’s not the problem. They had given a line on which I have to write a funny story and I had written the line on a piece of paper and I am not finding the paper now. “
“Oh how big was the line don’t you remember them.” Vimal seemed to relax.
“I wan’t the exact words you see its important. It was something like ‘I am waste I am useless Kill me’ or something.”
PS: This is a work of fiction. I sincerely wish that every father whose child gets suicidal becomes a ‘Fool’ like Vimal and this story doesn’t
remain a fiction.

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