My Vanity Box
“You are beautiful,”he said.
Words I would ponder upon for months to come.The confusion about them.The mystery about them.The truth about them.
It was raining hard.My meager makeup had been washed out.My hair clinging down my head,dripping water.My classy black dress drenched to it’s satin lining.One of my shoe heels chipped off.And yet,he had said it—-so simply,like stating a fact,with absolutely no incentive to lie.
Every once in a while,I think of those words.And I wonder at the roots of the conviction with which they were said.I think of the wonder in those eyes,which seem to ask me “What’s your secret?”
A moisturizing base of sensitivity.Not the oily kind that traps dust.The kind that’s absorbed and sits there,but you can never tell.No mask of foundation for me,thank you.I like my skin color the way it is.A little blush of curiosity.Blatant and subtle,both at the same time.An eye liner strong in self-esteem.The one that can draw a line between stuff that deserves my tears and stuff that doesn’t.And,stuff that’s in between.An invisibly colorful eye-shadow from vibrant experiences.Some that I speak of,some that I don’t.Beware,though…it’s tough to have a control on the heaviness of this one.Layers over layers.Some rubbed off,some re-applied,some half faded,some ridiculously bright.I choose to let them be they way they are.But that’s just me.Ample of sweeping,warm and intense mascara.Which lets people in.Or out.With just a bat of an eyelid.A rich skin lotion enriched by the sun and the rain.The moon and the snow.The leaves and the stars.The lies and the truths.The fun and the sorrow.The triumphs and the betrayals.The mistakes and the rides.The flowers and the paints.The music and the quiet.This one’s expensive.A matte of experiments.Good ones.Bad ones.Scary ones.Failed ones.Recurring ones.Stupid ones.Rash ones.Inspiring ones.What’s cool is that it integrates the shiny spots with the skin without concealing them!But it does require courage.A whole bunch of it.An angular,sharp stroke of honesty.All over.So much,that it sometimes hurts,even bleeds.It pays off,though,I promise.A brisk flair of impulsiveness.Try at your own risk ONLY (highly inadvisable).An irregular dab of humor.That’s condescendingly indifferent towards the empty,and alive and bubbling with the genuine.Finally,an incorrigible glow of confidence.They say it’s earned,I am not so sure.And the usual spark of innocence.It comes free of cost with honesty,I think.Don’t forget an occasional session of self-analysis and criticism.Rejuvenates you like a baby.And of course,a splash of insight and a cleansing mask of understanding for every day.These are indispensable.And most importantly,a good night’s sleep.Good,in the real and complete sense.
I never got the chance to answer that question.Because I didn’t know.I simply wasn’t aware.It took me weeks,months to realize,to connect,to learn.
I was waiting for the bus after a long work day.So tired that I wanted to cut my legs off so that they wouldn’t hurt.Breathing in pollution-loaded air,I stood there thinking of the biggest purchase I have ever made till now…from my first salary.Thinking of my family.Of the guy I miss.Of dreams.Of plans.Of loneliness.
Of life.And me.And in that split-mix-second,I understood the meaning of those words.He wasn’t lying.
I thought of the sentence “What you feel is what you exude”. And,I smiled at my vanity.
