“Are you coming? The customer is already waiting” Megna screeched through the staff room door. Lakshmi winced. Her head was pounding and her heart breaking. She wanted to scream obscenities in Telugu, throw that air purifier in the air and cry. Cry till the world stopped and listened to her. Till she had no more words to rant and tears to shed. Till the wrong turned right.

Fixing her puffy eyes with expert dabs of the concealer she did what her employer called the “Quick Customer Check”. White teeth, no chipped nails, perfect makeup, and a dab of perfume – she was all set to go. “If only I could fix my heart” she grumbled as locked her turned off cellphone in the locker. Final check at one for the full length mirrors that seemed to hang at every corner highlighting imperfections and she headed to Treatment Room 3.

She did not greet the customer. She did not look at Megna, who had already started the pedicure. She did not do small talk – the trick of her trade.  She was doing it all wrong and she knew it. She did not want to talk about the weather, nail care, other treatments her saloon offered. She wanted to lament and complain to anyone who would hear. She wanted throw a fit and a tantrum. She wanted to curl up into a ball and never face the world.

Instead she worked on automation – turn the tap on, check temperature, fill water, turn tap off, grab the bath salts, throw some in the water, give the water a quick stir, grab a clean towel, spread it on the customer’s lap and place the bowl. The water splashed. She winced. Luckily it did not spill. She functioned like a zombie and Megna’s eyes were on her. She would sure be telling tales later to the supervisor and she will have to listen to yet another lecture on customer care. Another headache to handle. It was shaping to be a Tuesday straight from hell.

“Just shaping or cut nails mam?” she asked as she looked critically at the lady’s hand. Nails like walls told tales. This lady had tiny nails and long fingers. Nails tainted with turmeric and masala. No jewellery or frivolous accessories. Hands that had probably never seen manual labour. Hands that were neglected but for those random visits to the saloon for a manicure. She sneaked a peek at Megna scrubbing the lady’s feet with a nail file. Dead skin fell like shreds of cheese just like they show in those advertisements. Neglected feet too. She wondered her story. She wondered if the lady with tiny nails getting her pedicure and manicure ever had her heart broken and her dreams shattered into pieces. She wondered if the lady married her first love or did she go for an arranged marriage. Did she have children?

She moved away from home seeking her fortunes in shores afar. She left with just a dream. She studied, met him at the Beauty and Skincare Academy, fell in love, got hired and wore with pride the standard uniform of jeans and tee shirt with the spa logo embroidered. She finally felt the pieces fit in. She could nearly see the future. For years she pinched pennies, survived on rice and curd. Saved enough to buy small pieces of gold.

She pushed back the gold bangle on her right arm as she reached for the cuticle cream. She remembered her first visit to the famous jewellery shop in T.Nagar. Gleaming rows of yellow gold under glowing lights at the jewellery store was an intoxicating sight. She brought a pair of earrings – 4 grams jhumkis. Traditional and a must have piece in any wedding trousseau. A necklace, a pair of bangles, silver anklets and a nose ring were added to her collection over the years. All for him. To satisfy his family. They would obviously want a daughter-in-law who was able to bring something.

She thought she had the world in her hands. She dreamed about leaving the small room she shared with 3 others right above the spa – the room that smelt of sweat, hair spray, nail polish remover and noodles leftovers. On her off Sundays, she met him at the bus stop near the beach. They walked hand-in-hand in the sand, laughed and dreamed together. A future for themselves. They dreamed about the “Lakshmi Saloon” they would set up from the money tell will get from pawning or selling her jewellery. They spoke about the haircuts, pedicures, manicures and bleaches they will offer. They detailed the equipment they will buy and the colours the walls will be.

He ended it all – shattering her dreams and heart.  “Going home. Marriage on 7^th April. Girl family give own saloon immediately” 

I attempt to write short scenes for the April A to Z challenge. I randomly select words and write something around it. It has not been an easy attempt but I plan to try and challenge myself. Please throw some words at me. C to Z are open. I will dedicate the story to you (if ever I come up with one) and don’t forget to wish me luck. I need them in truckloads

This post is a part of the April A to Z challenge. 26 days, 26 letters and 26 short stories. Come back tomorrow for more.