Thursday, 20 June 2013

My face is attached, for your kind perusal

It’s a bad day. I just realized the mole on my nose is not perfectly centered. A case of Left-from-Centre mole! Can anything be worse than that? I’m finished, no not the glossy or matt variety. Finished as in ruined in a world that is spinning around prepositions and propositions to help us get beautiful – anywhere and everywhere, seriously (except in the head, which they say is what karma makes of it, and alcohol). Pure machinery work – elevation and suction, under, over and in between, tucking and lifting, plucking and squeezing, increasing more than decreasing. And then the ‘anti-‘ words that will help you defy the forces of nature and gravity alike, like ageing, sagging and some other '-ings'.  

WWW should read Women Wanting Wonders, the pretty kind. From advert banners on FB to blog posts on Indi, everything is reminding me of my age and stage and how I am ignoring my tomorrow. A schoolmarm with golden eye shadow and cherry lips (or vice versa was it) in my dreams imposingly telling me how I will wake up with the hidden pigmentation under my skin no longer hidden, how the skin around my eyes will form estuaries, how birds will make nests in my frizzy hair-in-humidity and how I am the sore thumb neem in an orchard of Christmas trees. I did click on a few links which were begging me to, only to find things like bigger the better, brighter the better, the more unrecognisable the person in the mirror the better! I imagined my lashes getting thick as the rainforests, got scared and did not click again!  

Truth be told. I did go for a facial once. Pre-bridal variety! With scrub in my eyes, nostrils blocked close with a fruity cream in semi-nude state of affairs, with dimmed lights and elevator music, and some kind of mechanical arm spraying rose water on my face, I was trying to “relax ma’am, for best face shine-up results”. Apart from having a hundred to-dos gnawing my insides, I could barely breathe or see, let alone keep sane enough to count down the 20 minutes of this beauteous relaxation to get over. And the free pedicure that ensued (it was a package deal, which means your wallet is still theirs!) told me forever that I have more tickle sensors on my feet than any primate alive, and hence the foot massage-n-more ended before it’s time. If I were to get ‘Survivor’ tattooed on my forehead, now you will know why.  

He had told me straight – I hope I won’t see a stranger walk up to the rajgaddis the night of our marriage. Since he had seen me from school, there wasn’t much I could hide or nip, paint or pout. We got married, the whole 7 merry-go-rounds, so I guess that went off fine. Until today, when a fellow blogger tagged me in a Beauty-ful post that began ‘How to …’! And that’s when my mole started screaming at me that it’s falling on to one side. And to top it all, Humpty Dumpty on You Tube suddenly made way for a certain brand of cosmetic clad women singing ‘Kiss kiss baby lips for lucky kiss…’ Divine intervention to make me pull up my socks and lift my face in time? Oh well, at least my son was jiving to the peppy tune and blowing kisses to the multi-coloured lips singing. Honestly, when Humpty Dumpty came back, he suddenly seemed a tad under-dressed for the sing-along sequence. Talk about the power of advertising!   

I am in awe of all those who write about the nitty-gritty to make us pretty-pretty. If I were asked to write on or advertise a beauty product, chances are, I would not be able to. The brand on the kohl pencil I use faded away a year back. The lip-sticks I have are bottomless cylinders of shades that shine on choice occasions. And I still don’t know how to pink-en my cheeks the right way, and always fear looking like a bag punched. Please, someone start a foundation course for foundations too, for more often than not the world is looking grey instead of the pearly peachy creamy white the expensive elixirs promise.  

Here’s me, when I last tried colour on my face. I do think I look quite pleased with the results. But what would I know? Perhaps a copy of ‘Beauty for Dummies’ will help. Till I get hold of one, my face is attached for your perusal. Now, bring in those ‘How to Wash Face the Beautiful Way' tags. I'm waiting!


  1. Sakshi, I am in your boat too. I had written a post on my make up woes:
    But you know sometimes when the adverts go really on and on about how you will get pigmentation, dull skin and so on and so forth, sometimes I really get worried. And what also worries me is when the time would be to colour my hair! Will I do it or will I go Nafisa Ali way [not the bald one, but the white-haired version].

    1. I'm going to read that link, Reema. Adverts do go on and on but something tells me we cannot reverse ageing just because that tiny bottle costing a fortune and carrying gold particles claims to. I do not want to look like Sri Devi, or even Simi Grewal. I think my hair can go white, skin can wrinkle as I turn whatever. Yes, dentures I will definitely get. BUT, on the other hand, if something makes you feel good and more confident - be it make up or dye or even botox, then who is another to judge or decide? I do think, our immediate company (husbands, best friends)may play a very crucial role in deciding for us which way we go, Nafisa bald, peppered or blonde. :D

  2. Omg... I love that picture.. so colorful.. so beautiful...

    1. Wow! You reminded me of this old, very old post. I see this was in the Google+ era of my blog, deactivating which had erased all the fun comments this had garnered.
      Thanks for reading this. :)


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