Monday, September 19, 2005
My first (and perhaps last) visit to beauty parlor!!!
Life is boring, unless we do something to break the monotony. My innate inclination for feeling bored is quite high. So I have to constantly keep doing different things. That's the reason why I wear Saree whenever I get a chance. Last Friday for a function I wore a Saree, this time in another different style making friends and Aunts wonder what type of a Saree it was.
Wearing Saree is not quite unusual to me. Hence I badly wanted to do something very much foreign and unnatural (to me). Suddenly I realized that visiting a beauty parlour is a good option for that. It would improve my GK on some girlish (OK..feminine) matters as well. But go there for what? I had never visited one in my life, because even my regular hair trimming is done by my Mom. I didn't want to do waxing or eyebrow shaping or facials, as they would require regular updations. So I went for a one time thingy, i.e... well I'll reserve the suspense till the end.
So on this Sunday, I set my foot into a beauty parlour. As soon as I entered, the beautician (who must be about my age) started her sermons on maintaining the face and body well. She said that I didn't maintain them at all. She treated me with a pitiful scorn and remarked that I was ignorant and naive. She carried herself with a philosopher's stature as though I was there to get enlightened by her preaches. Yeah, you guessed it right, it was me who was completely responsible for her actions, as I don't know to pretend things which I'm not familiar with. She even went to the extent of saying, "You know, the day of saying I'm natural and all that is gone. Nobody gives any value to such natural-ness anymore. It is not a matter of looking modern, it is just a matter of looking neat, presentable and healthy(!?). You are not interested in all these because you haven't got the right guy, once you get one, you'll want to impress him and you'll land up here often!". My goodness!
She started with her work on my hair. She took about one and half hours to complete it. Another one hour was subtracted from my precious lifetime for drying (and another half an hour now, for writing this blog). In the meantime, got the chance to observe and interview several ladies there. Waxing seemed to be too painful. Eyebrow shaping even more so. Least painful of the lot was applying facials and sitting idle for 2 hours. Nevertheless they all seemed to enjoy it!. Some males were also there for pedicure, manicure, colouring the hair etc. In between the beautician made one more interesting comment, when she finally understood that she can't hope for success in brain-washing me: "There should be people like you too around, otherwise what is the difference between those who are conscious and those who are not? Like without villain in a movie, hero will not have any value.." something like this, which everyone appreciated though there was a difference of opinion between me and them on who was the hero and who was the villain, I must say. Finally I came out with a "crown-streaked" wine-red colour hair and a strong resolution not to visit the bugging, boring, preachy, sickening place once again. Very well learnt that beauty parlours are not for me, who doesn't even use any cosmetics.
This hair colour will remain for a good 6 months it seems. It is not looking too bad on me. My Mom had strictly objected, and that was one more motivation for getting it done. But no one believed it until they actually saw my hair. I secretly enjoyed the responses of people who knew me really well. "Are you serious?", "No, it can't be","Aparna is not the one who would colour her hair", "When did you become like that?" People can hardly accept any change, more so with changes associated with other peoples'(whom they think they know well) behaviours. Can they?
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Quest for sense
I've written some uttely nonsensical stuff, which will nevertheless make some sense to some chosen ones.
I think I discovered something last night. The answer to the question, why I tend to think too much. That's a significant discovery for me, I must say, as I've been asking this question to myself for the last 8 years. Here it goes: The fundamental reason behind me thinking too much is that I try to make sense out of everything. Saddest realization is, "actually it is not possible to do so".
I was encountered with another basic question, when I realized why I spend too much time thinking. The question is, "Why do I expect everything to be sensible?". While reading catch - 22 I felt that everything need not make sense. In fact most of the things on earth do not make any sense to anyone at all. It is lot more easier and funnier that way. It is a bad habit to search for some solid stuff in everything one sees, hears, smells, reads, writes etc. But I don't know why I expected everything to be sensible on the first place. Is it that when I was about to take birth on this earth, someone (probably God?) ordered me to expect everything to be sensible? or, is it my parents who told me to look for it when I was a kid? is it the teachers? is it the society? I don't know or remember honestly. Perhaps it is me and me alone who became obsessed with a quest for sense while growing up.
I remember attacking my mother with questions like, "Why are we born?", "Where is the boundary to this space consisting of sun,stars, earth and the moon(these were the only bodies I knew then)?", "What causes us to do what we do?","What moves earth(I hadn't read Atlas shrugged then!)?" etc, when I was about 5 years old. I haven't found the answers yet. I guess no one has. Hence I've stopped asking these and started with lower level questions. Asking questions and finding answers is something I love to keep doing I suppose. But what's the use? there is no point asking what's the use. Actually anything that anyone does can be strongly argued both ways, either as useful or as useless. So no use wondering whether something is useful or not!
I have very strong penchant towards certain things, especially paradoxical statements/stories. Catch - 22 is a wonderful book in that respect. 6 months ago, I read about 100 pages and dropped it there because it was too much to take. I was not moving forward, as I used to read the same thing several times, trying to make sense out of it, thus getting lost in thoughts, which would be entirely unrelated at times. Started again and this time also facing the same problem at page number 200. The whole book is so crazy and too full of balderdash! If only every book was written that way, then this book would appear very ordinary & sensible. That's the whole point. Sense or nonsense is all subjective, like sane and insane. Why are some people called insane, because they are different. But the same insane people might think that the rest of the world is insane and they are sane. It is the majority that matters. Just because majority of the people think insane people to be insane, they are branded insane and treated. Same way, something utterly nonsense can make sense if majority thinks that it is sense. So, it is just the matter of perception and perspectives.
Coming back to the lower level questions, as I haven't written yet as to what are they. Some of them are "Why do humans get bored? do all humans get bored at some times, or only some humans get bored all the time, or all the humans would feel bored at some time or the other? do animals & birds also know what it is to get bored? How to find out?", "What drives some human beings to look for quality and perfection in everything? is it a problem?", It definitely is, when one is not with the majority. Like I wrote in the first para, any particular thing can make sense only when you are with the majority, dear reader. There are some more questions, "We come we go, why do we struggle so much? can life be made simpler? why did God bless(or did I hear curse, from inside?) humans with an endless capacity to think?" I am too tired of thinking to find answers to these.
By the way, what am I trying to convey with this post? don't know as yet. If any of you who've read till the end can make out, kindly let me know. I'll be grateful to you for sometime at least, till I write the next blog, though not for the rest of my life. If you can't make out, drop it. Probably you are not the chosen one. I warned you in the first line itself, inspite of that, it was your choice to read it.
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