Pleasure or Pressure?

Long back I took an owe to say goodbye to personal posts once for all. The feeling of being exposed made me so restless that I banned myself from them. But not when I extremely want to scream loud about something the whole world does not care to hear. My screaming starts now.

‘When the occasion demands u cannot say no. Leave ur stubbornness. I have seen people coming out beautiful, and you badly need an external support to make yourself presentable.’ I have been hearing this for the past few weeks, wooing me to visit the parlor.

I know what to do. I hate lectures and advice. I won’t budge.

I was so mulish and made up my mind against the visit to parlor.

Sometime back, I was with my friend in a shop selling beauty products. As my friend was into the product she wanted to buy, I saw a couple entering the shop. The woman willingly digged out the lotions kept, while the man found it a little difficult to accommodate himself in that place. He whispered into her ears and moved out.

When I thought again, I knew that I felt the same way when I first entered this shop to accompany my friend. My subsequent visit to accompany them did relax that embarrassment to some extent, but never enthused me to spend a rupee there.

I never thought that I will yield to pressure and be in beauty parlor, bearing all the painting done on my face. I was compelled to the core that I started to have guilty conscience of denying something too good to myself. As two guards accompanied me to the parlor, the beautician caught hold of me and decided what she should do.

‘She needs bleach’. She proclaimed. I resisted. ‘Well if u don’t like, I won’t insist.’ She said.

So being content that nothing unreal will be dumped on me to resemble a white clown, I decided to co operate.

But I was deceived. The funny patch smeared made me uncomfortable and I shouted. ‘Are u feeling the heat on your face? Is it unbearable?’ asked the beautician soothingly.
So u thought I won’t be able to bear that uncomfort? I am brave. I immediately closed my mouth and said, ‘nothing too bad. I will bear it.’

One after the other, the processes continued, and I imagined my face to be a specimen for the new joinee in parlor. At last, everything did end, relieving me of the great doubt whether this will stop or not.

Tired with unpleasant face, I came out. One of my guards confidently asked, ‘how do u feel now?’ in Rajini style.

I said, ‘lighter. Lighter by few hundreds. ’

Those were the moments I felt how tied I was. The most worst moments can be when we force ourself to do something which we disgust, when we are compelled to explain the world why we have such a feeling, when we know for sure that our words make little sense to others making them to brand us as proud, vain and stubborn.

For sure, that would be my first and last visit there.