A visit to the beauty parlour

 "Blah, blah, blah."

I tried to shut out my hearing . I was sitting with hair slick with hair dye , slowly trickling down my earlobes and back of the neck into my brand new T shirt . The total lack of heating in the beauty parlour was not helping . My scalp was frozen shut . My brain was slowly following .

The new bride seemed in her late teens . Chubby and hirsute . The baby fat was still very much evident . The mother chaperoning her was more insistent and conscious of beauty treatments than the daughter .

"Full body waxing , facial , massage , manicure , pedicure ...."

Some words were familiar , others were just blah .

Then the mom leaned forward and whispered into my dye-applying lady's ear ,

"What about streaks ?"

"What about them ?" a generous splotch of dye landed on my shoulder . "Ooooh ! Sorry , sorry , sorry madam " Vigorous rubbing , rubbing , rubbing of my shoulder

"Kitna ?" The mother was insistent . How much ? She really wanted to export a shiny faced , fair , hairless , polished and streaked maiden to Canada , where the groom lived .

And she had money to fulfill all her desires , vicariously , through her daughter .

The beautician hummed and hawed , and ruminated as she continued to drop more gloops of dye on my body / attire .

I could hear the cogs and wheels of her brain turning this way and that through the superficial volley of sorrys , directed at me . Being a nice person , and less of a fleecer , she came up with a random number .

"2000 to 3000." She cocked her head thoughtfully , dye brush in gloved hand , and then nodded to herself , "Yes , 2000 to 3000"

"It can be either 2000 or 3000. How can it be both ?" The mother , now defensive ,had crossed her arms . A reactive swish of the brush , and the deep melanin of her hairy arm got a coat of black .

"Ooooooh , sorry , sorry , sorry , sooooorrrry !" An extra sorry for an extra zero . I was just paying 300.

"Madam !" With a definitive flourish , the beautician , placed the offending brush in a bowl , removed her gloves , placed her free hand on one hip , and gesticulated placatingly with the other hand . "It depends on the number of streaks you want your child to have . "

Before the mother could answer , a loud wail emanated from the inner chambers , the sanctum sanctorum , where you are laid prone on a bed and various parts of your body is beautified.

It was the daughter . Some liniment , being slathered on her face had entered her eyes .

"Aapka ho gaya madam , now keep sitting still for the next half an hour . " The beautician issued strict warning to me , before darting inside to save the would be bride's eyes , and therefore the day .

An assistant took the fall .
"Why can't you be more careful ?"

"But I ..."

"yes , why can't you ? You are charging me through the roof , still so careless " The Mother bear was in full form , protecting her cub . Lying vulnerably on the reccine bed , sobbing , She looked every inch the baby grizzly . How was she to transform into a kpop star in a months' time was my wonder and beautician's worry .

I peeked through rivulets of dye and dared to ask "How old is she ?"

Both, the beautician and mother turned around at this impertinent interlude , looking quite upset .

"Madam , please do not get up , you will splash dye everywhere . "

"She is old enough . " The mother pursed her lips . Not saying anything more .

"I am 15 . I didn't even want to marry . I have to give my exams next weeeeek " The sobs exploded into full scale wail fest . The beautician slapped her forehead in resignation , the mother went to placate her hysterical offspring , and I quietly got up , paid and left , after igniting world war three .