If Only

Published in Muse India, an online literary journal - February 2014

http://www.museindia.com/regularcontent.asp?issid=49&id=4209

She checked the time on her expensive mother-of-pearl, diamond-studded Rolex yet again with an outward sigh. 'Damn,' she thought to herself, 'Varun will scold me again for being late - and I thought being late was the first hallmark of a successful socialite,' as she plastered another smile at the lady behind the counter - indicating her urge for speed.

As she was ushered into the innards of the sophisticated parlour for a routine manicure, she couldn't help but noticing the beautiful beautician who had been assigned to her - her regular being caught up, on such short notice. Her skin was flawlessly white and she had dark smoky eyes, achieved with smudging kohl - an effect not unknown to her - for hadn't she done it herself on numerous occasions with the built in smudge effect of the expensive eyeliner she used? - but she saw that the beautician's eyes looked far more pretty, far more real than her oft-made up eyes. Her hands were as clean as cotton - nails trimmed and filed down, while her own stood out like sharp red talons in contrast, the years of nail polish and buffing showing in all their pinkness while hers were fresh, young and so clean. 

As the young beautician started scrubbing, she couldn't help but think how much she was putting in to save her marriage to Varun which seemed dwindling precariously by the thin thread of the production company they jointly owned. From spa rejuvenation therapies in order to make herself irresistible in front of all those nubile young women who were perennially waiting outside their office in hopes of a plum role to various Botox diets, she had done everything. And yet..., Varun seemed distant, haughty, too caught up in the heady success that their company was celebrating today. 

[She is so beautiful. Her watch alone must be worth lakhs of rupees – lakhs! If only I had a few thousands to save my home from being taken away from us! The end of the month seems near. Where will we go when he throws us out? Bharti Masi? Alok Chacha? But they stay in one-room homes too... Where will we go, oh God? What will we do? Oh no...! What have I done... that she stood up?] 

The bubbles of the scrubbing tray fell in an ominous puddle on her silk dress and she groaned inwardly. This was a gift from Varun - and she couldn't help noticing how deftly the beautician wiped away the small pool of water and brought out a hair dryer to erase the soap marks. Waving off the small group of onlookers including the worried cashier, the girl settled down again for the other hand, apologising profusely. It doesn't matter, she thought to herself. No one will notice me - or this stain. Varun will be too busy with the others, laughing, chatting... 

[Such a beautiful silk dress! It reminds me of the new dresses Amma got for us at Diwali when Baba had a job. Now even Dada is struggling to bring in regular money. They only have me and this steady income. I hope this nice lady tips me well. I can buy some sweets with it today. She has such tapered lovely fingers - like an artist. I wonder if she is one herself...!] 

Yes, an artist. Varun was an artist, a smooth talking con man, having drugged her with his salt-n-pepper hair, aquiline nose and strong muscular jaw, wooing her over buckets of roses and strings of candlelit dinners. It all had seemed so perfect then - just like the perfect half moons on her pink nails which were being gently teased back by the young beautician to reveal soft pink nails underneath. 

[I have managed to complete the maximum number of jobs today too. I have about two hundred in tips today. If she gives me fifty, I will be able to put away those two hundred towards the payment and take home some sweets for Amma. It's been so long since we have had any treat in our home. It's always money or the lack of it... Tomorrow I will leave home half-hour early so I can take on more clients. More time here means more money.] 

'Now if only Varun would spend more time with me than money'... she thought absently as the beautician rubbed some fragrant moisturiser into her soft hands to complete the manicure, thinking of the few amorous massages that had fizzled out, like their marriage, a few months earlier. She banished the thought that since the time a particularly beautiful brunette had joined their company as an accountant, Varun always had some business and finances to take care of, lasting well into early dawn!

[Her hands look like a fairy's. She's so white and her skin glows so transparent. She was my best client today - not even creating any fuss when I dropped the soapy water on her. What an angel!] 

Yes, only God and her senses could save her now, thinking of the monthly visit to the temple that she had recently started undertaking. It was a feeble attempt to stop her husband from straying, but it gave her immense inner peace. 

'Thanks so much,' she said, finishing up the manicure by folding two crisp hundred rupee notes into her hand, gratefully looking into the young beautician's eyes, and seeing nothing but emptiness there. 

[Two hundred rupees! Now I can save double my budget today. Maybe I can get a new saree for Amma - she has only two... what a nice kind lady! May God give her all she wants!] 

And she stepped out into her waiting car, flashing her best smile in readiness for Varun - the smile which reached only to her eyes because her heart was bleeding inside, praying that God would give her true happiness and attention from Varun, if only for a day!