A Cinderella Story

“Haan yaar, bas tayyari ho rahi hain kal ki New Year party ke liye” said a fat bespectacled man on the phone (to presumably another guy coz I’m sure a woman wouldn’t date a guy like him), while carefully scrutinizing the work of the guy who delicately handled his feet and nails in carrying out a pedicure for him. I could puke, I swear I could. Anyways, I’m not too fond of unisex saloons.

Coming from a family of pure bred military men and with all due respects to metro sexuality, one message to ‘Man’-kind – the nukkad wala ‘Nai’ is your man, people!

‘Yes ma’am?’ asked one of the ladies in the parlor.

‘Yes, yes’ I said turning my gaze, ‘Threading, waxing, filing and nailpaint….and….and anything you think I should do to look better tomorrow!’ I finished.

‘Sure, please take a seat. We’ll start with your threading’ she said

I swallowed, because honestly I hate this part of going to a parlor. It pains like hell.

Just when she was about to start my eyebrow surgery, I stopped her and said ‘Hey, umm...what’s your name?’

‘Sapna’ she answered looking rather amused.

‘Ok,…umm…you know this is very painful for me, infact, my tattoo didn’t hurt so much. So would you please keep stopping after a couple of seconds on your own and then resume. I know this can take some time but consider it as a request’ I said

‘Sure sure ma’am, why do you worry? We do this everyday…in fact every hour of our working day’ she replied in a distinct Punjabi accent – a typical flavor of Delhi.

The seat next to me got a chance to grace the asses of three different women while my seat was getting bored with just one. I took good 15 minutes to get done with the threading and must have asked her to stop a dozen times but Sapna didn’t quite seem to mind or get irritated. I’m sure if I were she; I would have picked up the thread and cut my customer’s skin on purpose for interrupting so much.

‘Finally, thank god!’ I said when it finally did get over.

She found me amusing, I could tell from her expression. ‘Why don’t you change in that room and in the meanwhile, I’ll heat the wax’, she said and I did as she said.

I was relaxed now; the painful part was over long back. What followed now was routine my system had become inured to.

‘What time do you close?’ I inquired

‘By 8’ she replied

‘You stay nearby? With family’ I asked

Yes, I stay close. My parents are in Himachal. I’m married here’ she answered

‘Oh, ok’ I said and started examining my one hand which was now a clean field when Sapna spoke.

‘All this for the big party tomorrow, huh?’ she said knowing all too well that her guess was right and a sense of unmistakable longing in her eyes and tone.

‘Yes, New Years eve. Anyways, it’s time for a routine visit before people in the party tomorrow begin to address us and Col Shekhawat, his wife and ‘Son’.’ I said and giggled coz I found my joke funny.

‘C’mon!’ she said and joined in the laughter.

‘So, what are your plans for tomorrow? Closing early, going out with hubby?’ I asked hoping to get her all chirpy about her plans. On the contrary, her face seemed to have lost its shine, but only temporarily.

‘Hum Kahan’ she said ‘Kal toh parlor me busy day hain’ while still working on my hands. ‘I’m sure we’ll get a lot of people for make up appointments, hair dos, saree draping and all tomorrow. We can’t be on a leave tomorrow’. She said….and stopped her self from saying something more….

‘It’s just another day ma’am. Nothing changes for us. If I don’t take a leave, I might be able to make some extra money and then maybe me and my husband can have a nice dinner someday in the New Year, but on an ordinary day. Wahi hamara New Year ho jayega…’ She finished.

I didn’t have a reply. I almost felt guilty for holding her up so late in the parlor just so that I can look pretty tomorrow. I just managed a smile.

She was just about to get done with my waxing and my bleach was drying up when she called out to her colleague, a lady named Kajal.

She opened my room door and peeped inside raising one of her eyebrow to Sapna to ask why she called her. Sapna asked her to check if I needed to keep the bleach on.

‘It’s done’ she answered after examining my face and started sponging it out. After she was done, there was a big smile on her face.

‘Arre waah, kya glow aa gaya hain, sahi main’ she exclaimed and they both seemed so happy to see my face glow. I almost felt sad that they are putting so much effort on every lady who comes at their doorsteps and making her look like Cinderella all set for the grand ball while they themselves prefer to stay in the shadows and come no where near the ball.

‘Here, let me put some mint gel. It’ll feel good and ensure no eruptions. Your skin seems sensitive’ said Kajal and left the room to get the gel. I’m sure, I don’t even possess half the passion these women show towards their jobs, I thought to myself.

Sapna and I spoke for some more time. She was my fairy, after all and I knew she was going to vanish in a while.

Why do you stay so far away in Hyderabad?’ she asked

‘I got placed there from campus. It’s a good job’ I said

‘But don’t you miss home, especially now, after spending so many days here?’ she asked

‘I do, I do….let’s wait and watch what the New Year and the future has in store for me’ I gave an unsure answer.

A couple of more sentences were exchanged between us before I was done with all that I intended to in the parlor.

‘Rajesh will file your nails and apply nail paint. You’ll have to go that room’ said Sapna while guiding me out and directing me towards a new room.

Before I went, I saw the mirror. ‘Damn, Kajal was right!’ I though to myself and I’m sure even Sapna caught my slightly twisted smile.

Rajesh took about fifteen minutes with my nails and yes they were now shapely and colored. He saw me struggling with my slip-ons and helped me slide my feet right into them holding on to my slip-ons. That was kind and not really on his JD.

I walked out towards the billing counter. I inquired about the total damage from the owner of the parlor while Kajal was at his side. My eyes were searching for Sapna.

‘Sapna?’ asked Kajal and I nodded.

‘She left while you were getting your nail paint changed’ she informed

‘Ok…I just wanted to thank her and wish her’ I said and she just smiled. My Fairy left without a word. I wonder if Cinderella ever got a chance to thank anyone- the pumpkins that got transformed into a two bogeyed chariot, the mice who became horsemen, the hare who became the door guard and most of all, the fairy. Even she was in too much of a hurry to reach the ball and her prince.

Money transaction over, I looked at the owner and said ‘Try closing early tomorrow and go party somewhere with this wonderful gang that you have here’

‘He just smiled’ – he had to is my guess coz I had paid him a bomb just seconds back.

‘Happy new year’ I wished him, Kajal and Rajesh

‘Happy New Year to you too’ he said and ‘here, this pocket calendar…2011…this is for you’ and handed it over to me.

‘Wow, thanks’ I said and wished them again before moving out of the parlor.

It’s New Year’s Eve and I feel like Cinderella. I’m sure every girl my age going to a party tomorrow will feel and also look like one. I say so because when I got up in the morning today, there was no kohl on my eyelids but oil in my hair, no moisture on my lips but unfiled nails with the nail paint chipped. So to get things in shape, I paid up for my very own pumpkin, four mice and a fairy. How I wish I could take them all along with me to the ball…How I wish very pumpkin, every mice and every hare gets a chance to be a Cinderella….to get their own set of angels who would in turn be their pumpkins and fairies…

Oh magical Cinderella dear

Thou art a real beauty, I hear

And believe a large heart, you bear

So do give me a listening ear

And in memory, push the back gear

I hear the ball was far from near

And sooted drags were all you had to wear

If not for these angels, whom you prayed should appear

Instead of peach, you might have ended up looking like a pear

And you and your prince might have been acquaintances, mere

So, first up, pray for those who got you here

The pumpkin, the mice, the fairy and the hare

All those who, in the big picture, have always been at the rear

Coz, I believe to become a Cinderella, every Pumpkin possess flair….

The Balancing Act

“Thank you so much” I said as the guy at the payment counter of the Bombay store at Hyderabad airport handed over to me my latest “impulse purchase” – a leather handbag, more like a shoulder one actually with Kashmiri work at its bottom. Well, I call it an impulse purchase because I am a compulsive shopper and couldn’t wait to get to Delhi to shop. Besides Preity Zinta flaunted something similar in Kal Ho Na Ho…

I was still getting my new possession in place and my debit card in the safety of my wallet while the guy at the counter who seemed to be in a hurry as he was dealing with two customers at the same time – me and a finely dressed young gentleman standing next to me when he mistakenly addressed him as ‘Ma’am’ while handing over his purchase to him and said ‘here’s your bag Ma’am’.

Naturally, I wanted to laugh out loudly but the fetters of age, decency and maturity (more pronounced in the case of a girl) allowed me just a muffled giggle.

Little did I know that the finely dressed man was just going to eschew his own impression of ‘being a fine young gentleman’ with his next words. “I can see that this lady here seemed to have got you a little mesmerized, but that doesn’t mean you are going to address everyone as ma’am” he said alternating his glances between me and the guy at the counter and smirking all this while. I could hear a mirror break…the pieces scattered right at his feet. What a desperate attempt and actually what a pity!

Smart Alec…I thought to myself! Not really the kind of guys I like to talk to. I managed a forced smile and we parted. But don’t worry he’s not the ‘Hero’ of my story. My heroes are humble…they are simple…they are real and they are special.

I waited a while in the waiting area and forced half a Mc Chicken from Mc Donalds into my tummy and threw the rest. God knows why I bought it in the first place. I think it has something to do with my nationality. Mine is probably the only country where people eat because they are somewhere out and not because they are hungry…It’s more like… ‘bhai bahar aaye hain…toh kuch toh kha le’…


I boarded the flight and had an aisle seat. People don’t prefer aisle seats but I really like them. For some reason, every time I have got a window seat, it’s been right above the wing…so boom go your chances of beautiful views and two- three hours of making imaginary creatures out of the clouds. So aisle seats totally work for me. Besides all I do while I’m on an aircraft is sleep. It’s like magic – pure, undisturbed, deep slumber….almost like a coma. Flights do that to me and I love it. Just in case I can’t get to sleep, I talk to random people. Did I mention that the only time I don’t talk is when I’m asleep…So, here I was all set for my short term come when…. “waaaaaa…waaaaa”


Hmpf! Hmpf! Hmp! Now, I’m not a child hater. I’m a woman and I do have innate maternal instincts but something that comes more naturally is sleep. I would say nature overpowers instincts. And so, I hated that kid at that moment. I think everyone was irritated with that kid at that point and still trying to keep up an encouraging smile towards each other and specially the kid’s parents. Like I mentioned earlier - the fetters of age, decency and maturity ultimately take over. My brains’s army was getting into action. Enemy location – it shouted out. I glanced left and then right. There …there he was….and as much as I wanted to say to its mother – Can you please make that kid of your shut the fuck up!....all I managed was a sympathetic understanding smile which she must have translated in words as “ I know ..I know what it means to manage a kid…especially in flights…after all I’m a mother of four” but honestly the real translation was – ‘Damn it! Couple of years and I’ll be in her shoes and somebody else would be calling my kid stupid and praying that it shut up’. That’s mean – I concluded and hence the smile.

‘What is the capital of Meghalaya?’

‘Shillong’!

‘What is the capital of Nagaland?’

‘Kohima’

And this must have continued for another five minutes when I could no longer hold back my urge to stare at the people sitting next to me. The kid was brilliant – I thought to myself. I mean, I wasn’t like this when I was his age. I’m sure if I’m asked to spell out the north eastern states of India, I’ll still miss one of them. In fact, when someone asks me about the North East, the first thing that’ll come to my mind are chinkies, straight hair, smart clothes, noodles, guitar, drugs, greenery and my stay in Arunanchal Pradesh. And instead of answering what I know about the North East, I’ll deviate and break a discussion around how nice my stay in Arunanchal was. But that’s me. And this kid was not me. He knew everything by heart. The seven sisters…capitals..rivers..surrouding areas..mountain ranges….z z z z z z z z z….That’s enough…nature finally did get the better of me.

Just about half an hour before the flight landed, I woke up and looked at my watch.

“Damn! I’m up early! What the hell will I do?” I thought

“TALK” the answer was simple.

My neighbours were still at it – the question answer game. Sitting next to me was a middle aged man who must be in his late forties though I thought he looked older. The kid sitting on the window seat seemed small – I thought he must be in 2^nd or 3^rd (given his knowledge). But the man I presumed would be his uncle or someone older – he looked to old to be a father of such a young kid. Well, you see my dad was a dashing and a handsome young man in uniform with a super fit body when I was that small –he still is minus the super fitness (Another thought that was playing in my head was and I’m not particularly proud of this one – Has he kidnapped this kid and that’s why he’s keeping him busy with color books coz he’s definitely not his father? :P)

‘Papa, can I get some juice?’ said the kid. Alright so you are son and father…

Satisfied with his juice, the kid went on to reading the spice route magazine (at that age, I only read pictures…no words) and asked his father how an airplane works. He wanted to know the dynamics! But that’s not the shocker. The shocker was that the father began to explain the dynamics using some terms which I identified I didn’t quite understand even when Mrs. Veena Dhawan, my physics teacher in 10^th tried to make me understand.

The next few minutes the father questioned his son on world geography and trust me this kid knew more than I do even today at my age. I couldn’t hold myself back.

‘How old is he? Which class is he in?’ I asked his father.

‘He’s 6 years old…in 1^st standard’ he replied.

‘I can swear, I wasn’t that intelligent when I was his age’ I said smiling genuinely at that kid.

The father smiled…I’m sure with pride an added ‘He’s been like this you know…very inquisitive about everything...loves reading and we just help him’.

‘That’s nice to know’ I said and then just kept quiet. Usually, with men, I only say a couple of words. They do the rest.

‘So what do you do? Are you studying?’ he asked

YAYEEE, BROWNIE POINTS UNCLE…gushing with happiness inside…coz it clearly meant I didn’t look 24 ;)

I replied in a modest humble tone ‘Oh no, I’m a post graduate and have been working for the past 1.5 years as a consultant with Deloitte’

‘Very nice, keep it up. That’s an audit firm, right?’ he said

‘Yes, but I’m a part of the consulting function’ I said

Completely ignoring my last statement, uncle said ‘do you know what audit firms do?’ and before I could reply, he started explaining what audit means and the next five minutes were spent on that and his interactions with my firm. I chose to listen politely.

‘Very nice company’ he concluded.

He spoke a lot to me from – my schooling to how being an Army kid is good and its disadvantages too, from my education to how Delhi has changed in the past couple of years. He seemed particularly cheerful and positive when he spoke of Delhi. Even though I have been born and brought up in Northern India, I do have South Indian loyalties. For some reason, I just like South more than North now. Anyways, he had to be, I presumed, a Delhi-ite as they are called.

And so ‘Uncle, what do you do?’ I asked him.

‘I’m a doctor’ he replied.

‘And you’re based out of Hyderabad, is it?’ I asked

‘Oh no...no. It’s my child, he said looking at his son and giving him a reassuring smile and getting one right back from him. He has a medical condition, something in his left eye. So I need to take him to L.V.Prasad hospital in Hyderabad for a treatment every three months. They have the best eye doctors you see’.

It took me a minute to gather myself. The child seemed perfect…he couldn’t have had any medical condition for heaven’s sake. It’s not correct God! He’s six for crying out loud.

Like I said I’m not a child hater and at this point I did have to hold myself back from taking the kid right into my arms and kissing him on the forehead – maybe just to reassure and pray to God to cure him as early as possible.

‘Aah…oh..ok’ I managed to say and then looked at the kid ‘You’re a very intelligent boy, you know. What’s your name?’

‘Supratim’ he said shyly

‘Supratim? That’s it? Is that all? Supratim what’? said his father with a smile ofcourse.

‘Supratim Mehta’ said the kid.

‘That’s a nice name’ I said and started searching my handbag just in case I could find a toffee somewhere in my bag. I usually do have them. But today was different. Yes, it was different. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have toffees today Supratim’ I said

‘It’s ok, no problem’ he smiled and so did his dad. A smile that said - 'yes, my life's a struggle but that's no reason for me not to smile or live my life to the fullest.

I didn’t want to talk anymore. I was thinking…and thinking hard. It’s not fair for a little kid to have to deal with such troubles so early in his life. But maybe this is what god’s idea of fairness is. Life averages everything. Somewhere you have plenty, in other aspects you’re a pauper. You win some…you lose some…

The flight landed. ‘It was nice meeting you Uncle’ I said and bade a final goodbye to Supratim.

P.S –Waiting for my luggage, I did notice, while everybody else was busy in looking either bored or getting ready to put on their pretentious demeanors right before stepping out into Delhi, Supratim was busy examining the conveyor belt, its plates and its motion.

I am a butterfly...a social one at that..and being still isn't my nature...Constant move..an undying quest..I know not what I yearn for...but there's something I'm still looking for...
I move...from flower to flower....some are pretty...some are not..but have you ever seen a rabble of butterflies? I doubt...that's not their nature....each one is pretty..each one is uncertain and each one takes off alone...swiftly flying..gathering nectar from strange flowers...winning the praise of onlookers but never staying long enough for anyone to come grab them...
She'd much rather find her reality in the strangeness of the random flowers than in the clutches of those hands that once praised her for her beauty and swiftness and then trapped her independence in the next moment...I'm sure she has a story about each of those strange flowers..maybe more interesting ones than the mundane 'that big human looking beast tried to grab me again' story..
This one's a collection of my such encounters...with people I have met just once and shall never meet again..and yes...they are more interesting than the mundane 'that guy asked me out';'I've put on weight';'what are you wearing for new years' stories...coz I'm more real than this..
As a prelude to what you shall read....let me assure you...that emotions - as I've known and learnt are strange...we live in a world where you'll find friends in strangers...love in the darkest and unbelievable places and hatred from quarters you least expected... Life sure is a heady cocktail...but you wouldn't want it any other way...now would you.. ?? ;)