Okay,
enough of brooding and sulking, I told myself yesterday, after more than a
month in the dark hole attempting to get a grip of life skills.
I need
to do everything convincingly, if not at least, symbolically. So I stood before
the mirror and spoke to myself. After the self-pep talk, I immediately noticed
the flaws in me, which is not because of a lack of self-motivation, rather
because I am a WOMAN, wholesome at that! My nails felt like claws. I could
grate carrot on my nose and the less said about my sole the better.
BTW, I
have this thing about my feet. My mom always says, "A woman’s feet speaks
about her home. If a woman cannot keep her feet neat, how the hell can you
expect her to keep her home clean?"
So,
dinner could wait. Anyways, I need no reason in particular to keep away from the
kitchen. The husband was happy as he saw me chirpy when he returned home and couldn’t
care if he had to order food and our girl was the happiest that she could have
her junk.
So I
head to the parlour, dip my feet in warm water and hand over my head to another
and my hands to a third.
The girls got talking. The one handling my arms, exclaimed, "Maddaam you have nice arms. You can wear sleeveless without worry." It was a compliment that came my way in a long long while. I immediately felt buoyant like riding on a steep bridge at high speed, that I sat basking on which dress to choose to flaunt my freshly-massaged arms.
I
returned to their conversation mid-way when one of them asked me, “Where do you
stay, maddaam?"
Giving the
details, I queried, "Why do you ask?"
The
three girls resumed talking in their tongue, before one translated for me.
"There is no Filipino supermarket near there maddaam."
"I
don't shop in any of them, anyways,” I replied.
"No
maddaam. You get Tawas stone. Your underarms dark no maddaam. The skin colour
become fair..." I slid off the bridge in the same gear. "I get for
you."
Later,
I hit the gym. I was on a positive overstock. One of the trainers, who
initially taught me how to walk right [http://bit.ly/1nR3PB6], came talking, while I was on the
treadmill. Seeing him, I increased the speed, lest he assess my gait again. I was
mentally preparing to ward off his suggestions, when I heard him say, “You have
a well-maintained body..." Those words got me so light-headed that I lost
him in between, “…like a sportsperson."
“Really!”
I asked.
“You
doubt?” he countered.
Now, I
was trying hard to check my cheeks, lest he catches me blushing. I was so thrilled
that I jumped off the treadmill and climbed on the cross-trainer. Compliments
can instantly increase your stamina, I realised.
"Good,
you've improved a lot," he said, following me and I peddled harder.
"Take
two sessions; we can improve your core strength..."
"What?”
so he was canvassing after all.
“But
didn't you just say I have a sportspersons body!" I asked releasing my
hand, in a show of expertise to quell any doubt he may harbour.
He
laughed loud and clarified, "You didn’t hear me right. I said, you can have
a well-maintained body, if you work with me, in fact, we can make it a sportsperson's…"
I stepped down, stretched like a cat and gulped half-a-bottle of water in one go as if that would wash away my embarrassment for the day.
I stepped down, stretched like a cat and gulped half-a-bottle of water in one go as if that would wash away my embarrassment for the day.
We hear what we want to hear! :)
ReplyDeleteYeah...and that can be so sticky :)
DeleteSo,Nisha's score of this post is 1-1and she moves ro Round 3 as if she is playing US Open 2014 wherd all the top seeds have tumbled out even before reaching 3rd round. Play it hard and listen it even harder. Great regular beginning!
ReplyDeletethanks for the score :P
DeleteLOL, very well written. Oh... how I can relate to everything. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you Ruchi
DeleteGood one nisha
ReplyDeleteThank You Monisha
ReplyDeleteApppreciate this blog post
ReplyDeleteThank you Paula for stopping by
DeleteWow. You write well as I was with you all the time🤓
ReplyDeleteAnd.. who is this
Delete