Death as Tooth Decay

Source: topnews.ae

Every step we take is a step towards death. We long for it.

Every little action, every biochemical reaction, every poison we take in, every word we speak and get to hear in response to it, contributes to our ultimate, impending demise.

Have you ever wondered what dying and death would feel like?

As a matter of fact, nature has given us several clues into that. In terms of consciously perceiving it.

Forget about seeing the other person die. That is simply too distant for a physical being to experience death, despite the emotional pain.

But after observing the decaying death of a couple of my own teeth, it struck me with how analogous it was to death itself.

It is, apart from the skin, one of the few organs in the human body that dies within the normal course of a human life. That is, excluding accidents and more horrendous injuries from the possibilities.

The way the root hurts and the way it is taken care of is a great example of the transition from life to death.

And surely it is the transition that must hurt the most.

As Woody Allen said, I am not afraid of dying. I just don’t want to be there when it’s happening.

Well that precisely elaborates the inescapable predicament.

Life is precious, yes, but the act of dying seems to be the very inseparable part of it.

Dying almost seems like a function of life.

And hardly any other occurrence within our bodies exemplifies it better than tooth decay and extraction.

The ultimate tension, the electric shocks, the soul wrenching pull, when the tooth is pulled out and the ultimate peace and void when it is gone.

Or a tooth can even hang between life and death, even perpetually. Or at least for a very long time.

I don’t know about it and I can’t be sure, but I can tell that it must be representative of a life condition as well.

Or perhaps it is representative of the very condition that our lives are in. You know, the state of somewhere hanging between our lives and deaths.

With our souls longing to be somewhere else than the body, or so it seems. Or perhaps our bodily chemicals hating what we are doing to ourselves or are made to do to ourselves.

A tooth is like a tiny version of ourselves, the one we hardly know or feel, and the one which we can even afford to live without. Which dies away without leaving a trace, and which is replaceable, at least in its function, with a prosthetic replica.

I am not even sure if we can replace people with a prosthetic replica. We do, but not the people we love.

Just the people we need and can never meet or have.

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