hmmm...its that time of the month again. The mirror refuses to recognise me. I try hard to find myself, instead end up looking at a bear. With thick bushes of black growing of their own accord around my eyebrows and toe nails assuming a mind of their own, I think it is time to come back into the realm of human species. So, here I am, twiddling my thumbs at a plush south delhi salon. As visions of threads cutting through my skin and searing hot wax lodging itself in my arms run through my head, I am almost tempted to run out. But the memory of my husband crying out in sleep, "not my wife...ALIEN!!!!" keeps me rooted to the spot. A sombre looking beautician calls out my name and escorts me to the gallows. I am ordered to change and sit politely on the chair. The beautician cum prison attendant is back, this time with another colleague. And together they begin the process of third degree torture. All I remember now is streaks of white cloth ripping my skin away as the duo buttered my arms and legs with brutally hot wax and slashed the strip off. Exhausted with their dogged efforts, the torturous duo head out for refreshments and leave me in painful anticipation of the next ordeal to come.
So, it's facial time! How bad could that be? A little bit of mask on the face, a soothing massage...now that could be something to look forward to. Well...apparently it only looks good in the sleek advertisements. The reality offers something else. The beginning holds a lot of promise...I assume since the attendant has realised my agony, she is going out of her way to be polite. My back and face are balmed with lotion, stroked and massaged. But wait...what is that prodding my face...ouch..that hurts. Dunce that I am, I take time to realise that the beautician has waged a war on the puny little blackheads that have made my face their home.
AAAH.....I am beginning to see again...tears have long dried up and the white flashes in front of my eyes have disappeared.
Well..you have to hand it to me...I have stuck my ground...and here I am waiting for more `grooming' to take place. "OOOOH" sqeuals the enthusiastic beautician, "your eye brows have an amazing natural shape." Hmmm....finally I am beginning to enjoy the visit..who doesnt like compliments. Oh..but I am soon to find out that I was given a bait and I have successfully risen to it. She launches on my eyebrows with a mere thread and starts pulling at it right left and centre. What...did she sharpen it or something before I came. Each time that I come for threading...I wish I was somewhere else. If there was an equivalent for a thousand red ants gnawing at your face, this has to be it. How long did this take...an hour...a lifetime!!! 5 min..I am told. You gotta be kidding me!
Uff...finally it is over. I scoop up my belongings....pay the release money and scoot out of there. My husband's face lights up...."wow..your skin glows...they really must be good in there. Why dont you book yourself for another session next month ....just relax and pamper yourself again" Uh oh....not in a million years...plssssssss
