Wise or otherwise?

Her mouth wide open. Should she part with it? "It is mine", he said. She decided to let go...It had been gnawing at her every once a while, for dog years now. So well, she thought, might as well.

It was late one evening, a fine weekend at that, when she could have been relaxing at home, with her feet up some wine and some munchies, watching some random movie on TV. But it was an appointment she had to keep. She braced herself for the worst, and walked up to the man who would soon be done with it, showing no mercy or remorse whatsoever.

He was rather nice. Kept them in good humour. Them? Of course, her hubby accompanied her. It was when his wife would lose half her wisdom! The doc gave her a choice between left & right. Oh, both sides have to go eventually, but a few weeks apart, and she could choose which pair first. She chose the left,  bcoz the pain was more severe there.

The doc explained the procedure, displayed his tools (yeah, the hammer, pliers and the works :D), and went on to give her the anaesthesia so she won't feel a thing. And then it started getting heavy, her gums, her lips...slowly working its way to numbness. The AC was chilling her spine by then and she was shuddering quite visibly, almost going stiff when her hubby switched the AC off.

The doc began extracting, starting with the lower one. He pulled and tugged, and crack..."did the tooth break?" she worried. But the jubilant smile on the doc's face said otherwise. It was like a treasure he had dug. He then went on with getting the top one out. Pull, pull, tug, tug...and it was out as well. Another treasure!

She had mixed feelings. Should she have bid a final tearful adieu? Or should she have simply rejoiced, that half her tooth problems were now gone? Or should she have celebrated her "wise" or "otherwise" decision of doing away with half her wisdom, err...you know what?! She simply grinned, feeling the vacuum where once lay a pair of wisdom teeth, that just wouldn't fit in!

A Confession!

It was an arranged marriage. An ad in the Classifieds column, and 187 kms away someone caught the 182 cms bug, came with family to "see the girl" and the girl's father would later joke that the "boy" was perhaps blind to say "yes". Boy (192 cms) was Roman Catholic; Girl on the other hand was a Marthomite. It's not very common for Catholics marrying Marthomites, you need to get converted and stuff (I know, it's complicated...and you thought Christianity was 'one' world-over!). But considering the girl was ta....ll, her folks were happy just to find a boy taller and nodded away happily. The "girl" was struck off the records as Marthomite and baptized as a Catholic (RCSC) after one month's classes at a Convent near home. She didn't really care whether she was Marthomite or Catholic, she had faith in God Almighty, and that's what mattered. Religious affiliations, diocese, congregations etc were just for convenience, she believed.

Marriage and two kids later, the "girl" and "boy" were quite happy with their lives, together. They were like two sides of a coin, poles apart, but the common space they shared was filled with love, respect and understanding. The "boy" went to a Catholic Church at walking distance from their apartment, the kids went to Mar Thoma Church with their maternal grandparents, and the "girl" was left in no man's land, feeling "out-of-place" in both Churches. Unfamiliar service in Catholic Church and Lo.....ng Service in Marthoma Church, she would say (lame excuses I'm sure). The boy and girl used to frequent an Anglo Church earlier (a service they both enjoyed), but after change of residence, "boy" grew comfortable with nearby Church, and "girl" didn't find place!

The elder kid was getting ready to receive the first Holy Communion, before which, there is a "Confession" mandatory for the kid and her parents. The "girl" or should I say ""mother", didn't have a clue what was coming her way. But she had to "confess", especially since the "boy" i.e., the "father" had a valid excuse - to get his mom discharged from hospital and bring her home. So she picked the older of the priests. Waited in line, patiently for her turn. Then "confessed", or mumbled rather (with her face turning pink with embarrassment). The priest must have been amused. The "girl" sure was, because she was not used to such rambling (confessing, if you please). The priest gave her a solution and a piece of advice too - to come for regular confessions!

The "girl" was akin to the kids, who were making their confessions for the first time. The other "mothers" and "fathers" had lengthy confessions to make, some sobbing inconsolably, some sniffing, some almost whispering and just one or two rambling like the "girl"! It was over, finally. And there was a big sigh of relief. She had "confessed", and it didn't feel as bad, she thought! Will she dare make another "confession"? Only time will tell.