The Root Reflections- A dental journey

As I sat and thought about that chair — not a throne, not a recliner, not some sculpted ergonomic marvel — just a chair, worn by years and softened by lives — I found myself transported. Not to one moment, but to all of them. Every chair I’ve known since dental school... they’ve all blended into this one memory. In 25 years, there have been many: cracked vinyl, shining leather, metal bases, sleek arms. But they’ve all shared the same sacred duty — to hold stories. And I, more than a dentist, have been their quiet co-witness. I remember the very first one — in the clinical halls of my college. It seemed monstrous then. I walked toward it with gloves too big, and confidence too small. That chair saw my first patient — a classmate, nervous and trusting. It also bore the weight of my embarrassment when I couldn’t find the right angle for a mirror, or when my cotton roll flew into the air. It was there through the crucible of clinical exams — the invigilators peering over shoulders, my hear...

 I don’t think this feeling will ever leave me. It’s been 25 years since I began my journey in dentistry, yet every time, when I hear the footsteps of a new patient approaching the room — I feel it. A flutter in the belly. A moment of unease. That silent question in my head: “What’s coming today?” Before the patient enters am looking at their medical records, scrolling through numerous documents just to try and find out some relief for myself to prepare for them and to make sure I have not missed anything about them including their personal information if they have visited me before. It’s not a lack of confidence. It’s something more tender, more human. It reminds me of the first time I entered the Oral Surgery department as a dental student. I remember standing over a patient, gloves tight, a syringe trembling in my grip. I had practiced local anesthesia on dummies so many times, but now... this was a living, breathing person. And beside me stood Dr. Lakshmi Naik — my teacher. My ...

  Weekend with close friends is one of the best moments we all look forward to. One such weekend, I was sitting with a dear friend Don. He’s not just overweight—he weighs around 180 kgs (≈ 396 lbs) . We were talking about hospital and clinic marketing—he’s a brilliant web developer—and the conversation wandered into dental treatment. Casual, light-hearted… until he said something that really made me pause. “Doc, I guess I need to get a filling done.” Now, Don is not my patient. I never treat close friends—I usually refer them to trusted colleagues to avoid emotional overlap. But I asked him, “What’s holding you back?” He smiled and said, “It’s not the drill, Doc. It’s the fatigue after the procedure.” Then came the real question: “Is it normal to experience pain and fatigue in other parts of the body during or after dental treatment?” It caught me off guard. He explained: “I have limited mouth opening. If I sit in the chair for more than 20 minutes, my back starts aching, and my ...

  Years ago, in the middle of a tough day at the clinic — the kind of day where your brain starts to lag and your focus drifts — I asked my nurse for a 10-minute break. I had just finished with a patient and knew I couldn’t pour from an empty cup anymore. "Prepare the room, but give me 10 minutes," I told her. I leaned back in my consultation chair, placed a towel over my eyes, and let everything go. Just deep, intentional stillness. No alarms. No interruptions. Exactly ten minutes later, I sat back up, feeling completely refreshed. I called the nurse in, ready to continue with the next patient. She stood there, stunned. "Doctor… you slept? For real? And you’re so fresh!" I laughed and said, "That’s Inemuri — the Japanese art of power napping!" She blinked. “Inemuri?” “Yes,” I grinned. "It means ‘sleeping while present’ — a sacred secret of staying sane!" In Japan, Inemuri is a respected practice — even in work environments — where pr...

 A few months ago, an 8-year-old girl was referred to my clinic by a concerned pedodontist. The note read: “Child is extremely anxious and uncooperative. Please try laser if available.” The panoramic radiographs revealed a deep carious lesion on tooth B—very close to the pulp. Recognizing her anxiety and fear of needles and drills, I decided to attempt the restoration using laser as requested by pedodontist, without local anesthesia. It took a lot of gentle persuasion and self-anger management, but she agreed. To my amazement, she sat through the entire procedure without flinching. No whining drill, no needles, no tears. The procedure was completed smoothly, and both the parents and the referring dentist were genuinely surprised and grateful. That day, I realized—not only the brilliance of pedodontists (Hats off to their patience) —but the immense power that laser dentistry holds in transforming clinical practice. What Lasers Bring to the Chair  1. Anxiety-Free Dentistr...

  Lately, I’ve come across quite a few posts—especially from younger dentists—sharing their frustration. Burnout. Underpayment. Disillusionment. And honestly, I feel them. I’ve been there too. I just looked back at my journey. It’s true—many junior dentists, like junior medical residents, are often overworked, undervalued, and paid far less than they deserve. Shifts blur into each other. Rest becomes a luxury. And in the middle of it all, there’s a quiet question echoing inside: “Is this all worth it?” But here’s something I’ve slowly come to realize after nearly 25 years in this profession… Dentistry isn’t just about skill. It’s about maturity, resilience, and clarity —and that comes with time, not just talent. When I stepped into practice as a fresh graduate, I thought I knew a lot. Maybe even everything. The textbooks were still fresh in my head, and my hands were eager to prove themselves. But there was something I didn’t understand then— diagnosis is an art, not just a pr...