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12 years ago
It was her college farewell, and she had bought kajal (black kohl), a face powder of some sort, and a lipstick.
She had propped up her laptop in a corner, and after carefully following the step-by-step makeup instructions, she had achieved the perfect smokey eye.
As she confidently strutted down the Milan runway like a supermodel, she encountered:
Raucous laughter.
"You look like a raccoon." Her brother spoke in between loud guffaws.
"Who gave you two black eyes?" Her best friend managed to speak in the midst of a laughing fit.
"Are you okay?" Her father asked.
"You are more beautiful without makeup." Her mother said this with a quelling look towards the two laughing buffoons.
Her shoulders drooped, and she scurried back inside to wash her face.
10 years ago
It was her first date. She had gotten a haircut at the swanky new place that had opened in town. She had bought concealer to hide her dark circles from the rigorous late-night study sessions at b school.
All eight girls on her floor crammed inside their hostel room, offering their makeup expertise. The senior who could draw straight lines of eyeliner, the batchmate who had the makeup kit, the fashion advisors, her roommate with her vocal inputs, the all-knowing serial dater, and the pessimistic all-round critic
After achieving the perfect eye liner, she appreciated the minimalistic piece of art in the mirror.
"Should I just go like this?"
"You want to wow on the first date. Can't be basic." The serial dater shook her head.
"Yes, we need more!" The senior with the makeup kit willed her fingers.
"Do it, just paint her face!" The roommate bellowed.
"You need to be subtle, guys." The critic, who had recently begun using that word, found it essential to bring it up in each conversation.
"What's the point? You can hide yourself behind the facade of makeup, but the crazy is going to show itself anyway." The pessimist walked away from that parting shot.
With a full face of makeup, she got into that most magically evil of things—Delhi Metro. A sea of people swallowed her as she held on to thin air. She found a tiny cubic cm3 of space. What she had not anticipated, and certainly even the pessimist had not thought to that extent, was that the sheer number of people in the Delhi Metro—the invisible force in the metro that makes people hug or smack each other involuntarily—would wreak havoc on her makeup.
When she reached the location of the date, she was getting strange looks. She rushed to the bathroom and saw her reflection. It looked like her face was melting. She sighed and washed her face.
2 years ago
She looked at the dark circles under her eyes due to a lack of sleep. This sleep-deprived state was the result of a small human who could not tell day from night. Her hair looked as if she had survived a lab accident.
As she was contemplating how she had aged 10 years in the last two, she got a message from her friend.
"I am coming to India in September; do you need anything? Electronics? Makeup?"
This sent her through a rabbit hole of makeup reviews and tutorials. More importantly, the emphasis was on skincare. She ended up buying almost half of Sephora.
For the first time in her life, she felt feminine. As she applied her makeup, this time it worked out. It looked natural, and some instinct made her hands work their magic.
She looked at the tiny human sleeping in the corner and smiled. Motherhood has some hidden joys.
