AND THE QUEEN WAS IN THE PARLOUR

All us girls go to the beauty parlour. While I confess to that, I am not going to tell you what all we do there. A little snip here, a little thread there, some hot stuff, some cold stuff maybe. I will also add that it is all not so pleasant. Probably you guys have a less painful time trying to look good. But if what I read is correct then young men these days go through as much trouble to look 'presentable'. 

When I was very young, once upon a time, my father would take me to the salon for my hair cut. And I have this memory of dozing off as the barber used the clipper on the nape of my neck. I still have a tendency to doze off, even now. 

There is always a hunt for a good parlour/salon where you are on name calling basis, as in know the person's name and greet her as you walk in. Because, in my opinion, it is extremely daunting walking into a parlour.

Clients who sit there, getting their stuff done or those waiting for their chance, look you up and check you out and in their mind's eye, they have decided what you need to get done.  

Already vulnerable with extra growths, messy looks, etc. It takes that fraction of a minute to move from vulnerable to comfort. And once you are in the latter state, things start to fall in place. But wait, this is just about your state of mind.

The daunting task of meeting the judgemental standards of the beautician and her assistants is an entirely separate experience. If you go for a haircut, they will lift strands of your hair, while the traitor hair falls limply, and announce loudly about the kind of hair you have and discuss the cut they can give, which will give a bounce to the hair after an unnecessary shampoo. The shampoo station is not the most comfortable place. While warm water is used to rinse the hair, you come away with a crick in your neck. Having said that, at a familiar parlour, they will play with your hair and announce loudly `you had such thick hair earlier, now even your scalp shows.... let me see what I can do'.

Then they try hard to sell some expensive unguents for a glowing skin, (because yours, they say lacks the glow, which is typical for all senior citizens!), the perfect shampoo for that extra hair growth and for that model like shimmer (since your scalp is showing most of the way and whatever little hair you have is limp). 

In other words, they say things which can discourage you. And in the meanwhile, in walks in a young thing, with long, thick hair, glowing skin, with the perfectly arched eyebrows and lips shaped in the form of a bow. She chose to come at that time to get her hair highlighted. Ah! What leisure!

Finally after enduring much temporary pain, looking a little bit trimmer and definitely with more confidence, I step out of Doris, a new discovery. This parlour, apparently has been in existence for the past six years and ignorant me had been travelling long distances. This one is literally in my backyard and is tucked into one of the Srinagar Colony lanes. Huge bungalows are built cheek by jowl, typically with no parking place for any outside vehicle. While walls are painted, a huge picture window gets you a peek into the parlour. Lots of women were inside. I stepped in tentatively and in my usual way greeted them, which is by and large friendly. I am only nasty, witty, sarcy, dreadfully insulting with people whom I know! One of them rose and asked me about what I wanted.

If I had thought she meant `life', I could have waxed eloquent, but I told her the three tasks and then sat on a chair, while a noisy blower was doing its job on long hair.

Karen, who took care of me, is Doris' daughter and had the confidence which all young women seem to have these days. She was also in a bit of a rush since she was going for birdal makeup in another hour. The place was hopping, for Karen was giving instructions, meanwhile doing the needful for me and yet answering questions of a very querulous mother, regarding the state of her daughter's hair, while the young daughter kept staring into the mirror and flicking her just straightened hair.

I was trying to eavesdrop on to the others, but the mother was loud and my work there was almost done. But will keep you posted if there is interesting gossip.

Meanwhile, talking of gossip, read that Deepika Padukone and Ranveer Singh have bought four sea-facing floors at Bandstand, Bandra, which cost them 119 crores. MY GOD!  Should such people not be arrested and starved for the next seven days? They might be doing their bit in the good deed direction but that kind of money can set up an industry and employ several 100 people.

What is this house made of I wonder for them to pay that much money. Finally, they will sleep on one bed, and use one toilet bowl, etc. If you listen to the radio, then there are these ads for gated communities, flats and they give far off locations, but the woman of the house is keen on investing and the guy sounding dumbed down, agrees. Most of these are for houses about 50 lakhs. Am mentioning this because I am wondering who is the audience for the radio, FM, etc?

This week I have invitations for two weddings for daughters of two very good friends. I will be attending only the sangeet, which is a tad informal and I can raise a glass or two. These are again occasions which make me nervous, one because of the lavishness with which money is spent. But the gorgeous decorations, the attention paid to detailing soothes me a little. Had I had a daughter, I would have seriously advised her to elope, with my blessings.

I attend only the one function, but the others will attend all the functions, dress up, change their jewellery, meet the same people again.....Whoa!!!!!!!!!

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