Metro Diaries: BeYOUtiful
Every time I walked into the saloon I couldn’t help notice Stella. Her impeccable choice of clothes, the elegance with which she carries herself and the never-say-die smile on her face, everything just seems so perfect. I mean each one of us have their own bad hair days, foul tempers flying across, feeling irritated about nothing, mood swings, PMS! But Stella seemed to be alien to all these things.
In the last 6 years that I knew her I had never seen her look sad or downtrodden even for a moment. The forever chirpy voice of hers would update me about the latest gossip in the entertainment industry, moving onto some new techniques that might have come into the beauty regime and then some fitness, food, clothes… everything feminine would find a way into our discussion. I would often wonder how relationships never featured into our conversations, but it would give me solace knowing that it was me who didn’t want to talk about it. The fear of opening my own wounds would ensure relationships were a taboo for us.
A love marriage with my best friend gone wrong after close to two decades of togetherness had made me very bitter towards relationships. Everyone wanted to know what happened, or so I thought. And none wanted to understand my pain, or so I felt. Better keep mum, that’s the best advice I could follow. For me Stella defined beauty in her perfection. Something I had failed in doing. In trying to make a marriage work I had forgotten to work on myself. And now when I saw myself in the mirror I knew it was too late. The damage was done; there was nothing that I could do about it. Except a trim here and there, maybe a good facial followed by a massage- all this strictly as a feel good factor and nothing else.
I wish I could tell Stella how much I admire her, and how I want to be like her!
Clara, one of my most favourite clients! I so love it when she comes visiting my saloon. There is an air of been there done that around her. The way she carries herself like a mystery, I so admire that in her. She has a lovely complexion with light freckles and tiny wrinkles just beginning to show up. And yet she radiates grace like none other. Aging gracefully is something she adds meaning to! Her salt and pepper hair neatly cut in layers ending just above her shoulders add the much needed charm to her soft features.
She has beautiful brown eyes, deeply set holding the vastness of the desert in them. Once when I had the chance to stare into them I could almost hear them speak, “I have loved, been loved, wooed, married, created memories, travelled, had a place of my own, fell down, got hurt, dusted myself and began chasing it all over again. All this and more till now on my terms. “ I wish I could tell her how I much I admire her strength. I wish I could show her the cigarette burn marks on my body from my previous relationship. I could never sleep in peace after that night, when I managed to run away from him.
Every night the fear of what if he finds me haunts me rendering me sleepless. I cannot tell anyone the reason I dress up like this is because I disguise myself. I want to hide my older self not only for the fear of being recognized but also because I cannot bear the sight of the older me, the weaker, meeker me who didn’t have the courage to stand up for herself. I want to become unrecognizable even for myself.
I wish I could tell Clara someday that I wish to be like her!