“No matter how great-looking you are, how beautiful you are, there is always going to…Read More →
She looked into the mirror. It was time to get ready.
Spread all around her were various potions, lotions, creams and umpteen dainty objects of beauty expectantly waiting to change her. She never felt beautiful unless she put on that veil of pretense on her face. These were her crutches in a cruel world. They shielded her from facing the world alone.
She felt empty,naked much like her soul.
Her big beautiful hazel eyes which shined with mirth whenever she was truly joyous had to be turned into blue with those tacky cheap contacts which hurt her eyes. However,this was what society called ideal and so be it. She lived for their approval isn’t it? Her bold eyes squinting with pain made them look smaller. Those expressive eyes would have otherwise burned through the souls of all around her.
Now her skin, flawless in it’s dusky self was buttery, her electric spirit seamed to burst at the seams with her luminosity. However it had to be pounded,pinched and powdered to create the semblance of an ivory white fallacy. Her mother had often beaten her up for taking up after herself rather than her abusive,alcoholic but oh so fair father. She still remember the fights she heard from their bedroom. To the tune of those remembrances, she piled up the “brightening” powder on herself.
With every pound her glow diminished much like a neglected burning holy diya in night.
Now time for blush. This was easy. The incessant groping, the lustful eyes of lecherous men all around her drew in color in those dimpled cheeks like no artificiality ever could. However she was artificial and so she piled it on again.
Her lips were always drawn on her face. Right from that exaggerated cupid’s bow to those coquettish slants, the almost scarlet color of her lips were supposed to draw in men like hungry carnivores to dead flesh.
Ah, The smell of blood.
Her beautiful long locks were locked in various garlands of mogra. After all, they needed something to pull on to when she was disobedient. But, She never was. This was what society wanted. And She lived for their approval isn’t it?
Her Bindi, the hindu symbol of feminity was the only thing which she loved. She felt it was the only adornment which reminded her that she was still a woman not an object. However, it was always rubbed off. It may confuse the customers that this was a married one. Bad for business.
She heard a drunken knock on her door and the obligatory abuse. The first one was here. It was a fully booked night. She was going to be back again for touch-ups after being used up by one after the other.
Her face lived for society’s approval.
That’s what she lived for. Pity, She never got
She was beautiful and We made her ugly.