Taj Mahal in my hands

...that is how my romance with wisdom teeth ended.Before I tell you about the end I should tell you how it really began. It was a fifth standard class room.The lecture was on general science and the topic was "TEETH". I was one of the students in the class. The teacher told us that human beings had 32 teeth and dogs had 42 teeth.As soon as I heard the number of teeth I started counting the teeth present in my mouth. This was an exciting exercise because never it occurred to me that I could count my teeth till then. The exercise told me that my mouth bore only 28 of them and I was worried about the missing four. Before I was driven away by any crazy thought the teacher told me that young boys only have 28 teeth and the rest four are called wisdom teeth which grow in teens as a mark of maturity. And also these teeth will not grow in everybody and now are vestigial organs. This confused me, if they do not show up in everybody then why are they counted to make number of teeth 32? Was it not completely subjective? Well, I passed my fifth standard science paper marking the number of teeth in human beings as 32 and anticipating to have both wisdom and wisdom teeth.
I would jump several years from my grade five for the sake of wisdom teeth. Now, it was my pre-university classroom. I could feel pain in my upper left jaw. When I tried to locate the source of pain, it led me to upper-left gum space after the molars. I rolled my tongue over and felt a hard bone like thing still covered by gum. I used my tongue to press hard at it and the pain made me feel good. It was not the eruption of wisdom teeth that excited me. I always found excitement or enjoyment in a little physical pain. Pain in the mouth gum and pain after forcefully removing a small part of right-leg-second-toe nail being some of them. I felt the pain good and repeatedly pressed my tongue against it for sheer pleasure of feeling the pain. All the while I did not notice that I was being observed by the lecturer in the classroom and the end result was I was thrown out of the class. I never really minded because,after the expulsion, I had all the time for myself to poke at my painful gum. I did it all day and increased the pressure with which I pressed my gum by nightfall. So, what happened? In the morning pain grew to unbearable levels and I had to stay away from classroom. On the evening of that day I could feel a tooth like thing forcing its way out of the gum, realized that it was wisdom teeth and felt intelligent foolishly. Foolish because I always thought wisdom teeth gives intelligence.
In a weeks time I had a full grown wisdom teeth that made my teeth count 29. Perhaps after just one week of time my right upper gum started paining and this time I was careful enough not to trouble the trouble. As a result my second encounter with wisdom tooth was a peaceful one. Two wisdom teeth and I now jump into my graduation. Half wisdom is more dangerous than having no wisdom that is a fact and I set on to prove it once again. So how did I manage to do it ? Ha .. I fell in love. Isn't it the a dangerous thing to fall in love? But I had support. As if to allay my fears about aftermaths of falling in love and declare its support, my lower left gum started showing signs. Supporter of my love, the left Wisdom tooth struggled for space with the molars,and the molars said "look mister we already are jam packed we cannot accommodate you, so please stay away and find other ways to convey that falling in love is symbol of wisdom not foolishness". The tooth twisted and turned and grew in an angle into my cheeks. And, meanwhile its partner the wisdom tooth in lower right jaw is too happy with the girl i had chosen and decided to bestow the status of complete wisdom upon me.So it started showing up. But this time it was met with force and had become meso-angular. That is, it had taken a 90 degree turn and grew towards the molars.
Then, I had 2 sets of teeth. One full grown set and the other half grown to purely signify my wisdom: wisdom of love. Three years into my love life, these half grown symbols of love started giving me trouble. Not of course in my love life. They wanted more space. Whenever I ate food the left wisdom tooth bit my cheek skin, occasionally leading to bruises, and the right wisdom tooth held pieces of food in its crevices. I bore with these symbols of my love for an year. But the left had become aggressive on my left cheek and the right had become greedier. I had decided to get rid of Taj Mahal of my mouth and went to a dentist to get this job done. The dentist suggested me to go ahead with the extraction of left tooth first. The first one that corroborated my decision of falling in love and I heeded to the advice, because this was the pioneer and the most troublesome of the two lower wisdom tooth. The exercise of tooth removal was painful, both physically which is obvious and psychologically because it was my Taj Mahal. The painful exercise went on for a quarter short of an hour with the dentist removing the white marble to leave a stitched cavity in my mouth.
Today, after a week long medication, the sutures were removed and I get to hold my Taj Mahal, a Taj Mahal bathed in acid and preserved in brine by the dentist who made me undergo and went on to understand the pain. Whatever, I miss you my Taj.