Life lessons from my maid

I’ve been wanting to write this for the longest time ever and just kick it out of my system. I was always fed up with my maids and their idea of professionalism, but couldn’t risk fighting against it for anything in the world. Mediocre cleanliness is way better than a super shiny, nice smelling, deep cleaned home sweet home. My frustrations often took the shape of caustic posts: Maid in India, Maid 2.0 and My Maid and her newfound efficiency. However, a little compromise is essential for survival in any relationship, the wedded ones would know!

It’s been a month with my new bai and she’s much much better than the earlier one. My home feels like home now and not like the society compound below. The floors are shiny; I can sleep directly on them or just about flop down in any part of the house. She reports everyday and what’s more she arrives just in time!

Given my track record with ‘The Bai’, I should be partying around, zipping away from one room to the other on a broom. But, I’m kinda sad… there’s an inexplicable void inside that’s been eating at me.

It so happened one day last year that my ex-bai got talking to me, when the Mister wasn’t around. What started as a friendly little chat ended into an hour-long session, much like what therapy looks like at a psychiatrist’s clinic. The woman was actually just a girl of 21 from a neighbouring village, packed off to the big city of Pune to earn for her in-laws. Yes, you read it right – the wedding was just an excuse to bring home unpaid labour, anytime access to a woman for the useless son, and some extra income for the family.

Chapter 1 – The beginning of the end

Back when she’d turned 18, her parents got her married to a distant relative, who they thought was well off and well settled in Pune. Her father was promised the girl will never need to work for a living. The wedding happened, the marriage started and little did she know her small town dreams are going to be shattered soon.

For starters, the family did not have a house, not even a rented one, they lived on a parking lot near a construction site. The newly married girl, all of 18, had no privacy to call of her own. The father-in-law, the mother-in-law, the husband, and sometimes the brother-in-law all shared one tiny area, as their ‘home’. Finding a place to relieve herself was a nightmare in itself.

Within a fortnight of the wedding, she was told to begin this jadu-pocha work. First one, then three, soon it ballooned upto ten houses, including one entire office space in a tech firm. Soon after she found herself pregnant, lost her mother in a road accident and between this game of life and death, went into a depressive daze.

The day we got talking, I was shocked to learn that she was five months pregnant with her second child. And the best part in all this is, even after she returns to that so-called home for the mid-day break, there is no food for her or anybody else. The mother-in-law does not even make an effort to move that fat a** around in the house.

Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow – Mary Anne Radmacher

She prepares lunch – 15 rotis and 2 bhajis, spends some time with her now 3-year-old son while getting some food into her tummy as well. She needs to rush again to other homes that prefer afternoon and evening time for the maid. She gets free just before midnight. The tech firm opens early in the morning, so they prefer the cleaning to happen after office hours!

In all this, she has no time to rest, absolutely no time to lie in peace and give those aching bones and muscles some me-time. 15 to 16 hours of pure menial work that may not require evolved skills, but is sure backbreaking as hell.

*****

Chapter 2 – The fight to survive

I asked her if she had a bank account. The poor soul has never had a chance to create one, she doesn’t have any proof documents nor any money to put inside. All that she’s been earning has to be handed over to the bossy mother-in-law. In fact, if any of her homes discontinued work with her, her mother-in-law, also her manager, promptly found another home within days, so that the sum salary she brings home is always at optimum best.

One day her eyes were swollen, actually she had also come after many days, she explained how her husband suspects her of having affairs with the men in the homes she works at. He was very envious that she earned more than him, he is the watchman at the tech firm. I told her to take some action and if need be, we could help her.

There is some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for – J. R. R. Tolkien

She said that the 10 days she had taken uninformed leave during Diwali was actually her plan of action. The pregnant woman had traveled to her village all alone, and finally confided to her father. Furious that she hadn’t informed in all these years, he asked her to stay and planned on calling a panchayat with the elders of both families.

Alas! Few months down the line, all anger had subsided and they had compromised their feelings: it seems she has two younger sisters to get married off, and nobody in the village would be ready to associate with this family if they went to the gram panchayat!

The girl-woman-mother-sister has found a smart turnaround though. She works at extra homes in stealth mode, that is away from the eyes of her prying mother-in-law. The payments from these homes, close to INR 2000 every month, is then promptly saved in a human bank – a trusted neighbouring girl who understands her plight. Every time she visits her dad back in the village, she hands this money to him. Some smart strategy there!

*****

Chapter 3 – Every end is a new beginning

Life is a cycle just as the eras. What comes into this living world of ours, also leaves one fine day; nothing is forever, nothing is permanent. Like I always say, oceans turn into deserts, mountains become plains and living beings just find a new livelihood from scratch. My ex-bai might not possess all these philosophical insights, but she sure follows it all the same.

When you have only two pennies left in the world, buy a loaf of bread with one and a lily with the other

She is ceaselessly fighting a lone battle day in and day out, never once believing that it’s all over, always on the lookout for an opportunity and staying positive when it comes knocking at her doors. She is what I now look at as a living inspiration in my life, a person in dire straits always looking to wish upon a star.

The Chinese say, “When you have only two pennies left in the world, buy a loaf of bread with one and a lily with the other.” My ex-bai always draped herself in beautiful sarees with gold jewellery and glass bangles, the glitter and jingle hiding away her blues.

In moments of despair, I am reminded of her silent courage, her never give up attitude and that dazzling smile. So no more bai bashing posts on my blog, unless my new one acts funny!

Maid 2.0

Uborka-2

My bai woes are unending. This year we shifted our home-office to a new place in the same locality, an extra room with an additional balcony meant more space between the Mister and me. Life had become so peaceful that I almost began to worry, remember the Universe’s first law of Happiness – “This too shall pass”. Now picturise a happy sun saying this to you.

Little did I know that my inner peace would be ruffled soon by the new maid. Her name means ‘Poetry’ and just like they say, “There is magic in poetry”, there was magic in her, or rather her work. Dust vanished into thin air, as she walked into every room. Things sorted themselves as if by divine reconfiguration. The Mister and me lived like the King and the Queen in their squeaky clean apartment…until.

She came. She saw. She conquered.

The day we set foot in our house after all the packing and the moving and then the unpacking, we saw a quaint figure watching us from a distance. The next day, a lady deliberately crossed paths with the Mister and ordered him to employ her as our maid. He placed the ball in my court. She came to me the next day and pleaded for the job.

Maids and me have always been in an abusive relationship. They set the rules and I quietly abide by them. Do read “Maid in India” and “My maid and her newfound efficiency” for an accurate context.

The new home ushered new hopes, so I decided to let go of past trauma. I told her to come from the next week, but she started that very day. She sweeped and she mopped, then she mopped some more and left me a happy soul.

Days went by and just as the Mister and me were getting newly accustomed to our clean home, and hassle-free maid, things took an ugly turn.

It started with her reporting time that swayed anywhere from pre-breakfast to lunch-making time. Some days she came even before I could open my eyes fully. When I complained, “It’s too early”, she’d say, “I have to go out.”

Some days she comes in when I’m preparing lunch and offers no explanation whatsoever. When it turned into a daily habit, I asked her, of course in a feeble voice, as to what is the matter in her life. Is she going through some mid-life crisis? Does she need a break?

She said, “I got more houses to clean now.” I kept mum.

Then came the holidays. One time she went on a vacation for ten days, of which only four were informed ones. I didn’t dare to ask her this time!

Dust can be neither cleaned nor be destroyed, but it transfers from one place to another.

Dust is transferred from one place to another, just like the law of conservation of energy that states – Energy can be neither created nor be destroyed, but it transforms from one form to another. The dust law applies to all maids.

My house is as much clean as it is dusty!

This month, she has set a new rule, well two actually – one we cannot ‘not be present’ at home whenever she comes, and second, we need to inform her in advance if we will ‘not be present’ at home whenever she comes.

The Mister booked Sunday tickets for ‘Mad Max Fury Road’ on a Saturday evening. I had to have them cancelled, as we hadn’t taken requisite permission from The Maid.

Life has come a full circle when it comes to maids. It’s almost poetic. She says she has a very tiny child (this is a new story) who acts as per his whims and fancies (look who’s talking).

I have almost given up in my hunt for the perfect maid. They say, “Life is finding love in the imperfections” and it is true. We don’t look eye to eye anymore, and I don’t dare occupy the bathroom…whenever she comes.

Image credit: Vectors 4 all

quilted thoughts

of scattered feelings,
and quilted thoughts
a little here,
and a little there

sewed together
with a broken thread, and
leftovers from a time gone by

of little whimpers and many whys
of little joys and many sighs

once ethereal, beyond dare
now lethal, full of scare

let me go, her muted screams
stained the silence
of strangers nearby

pierced, shattered
but quilted with care

her thoughts lay strewn
within the crease –
of the bare

they laid the quilt
over waters welling by
the brook stood still –
but, she floated by

of scattered feelings,
and quilted thoughts

now neither here, nor there!

My maid helped me rediscover my passion for life

Time and again I get questioned on why I don’t blog here more frequently. That’s like asking my maid why she turns up at my place so few times of the year. It’s just that she has a ton of household chores to deal with in her home already. Like I have a ton of posts to write about at the Lighthouse blog – the blog we run from our home-office. So no big deal really. But, all this was in the past. It’s a new story altogether. Read on…

Yesterday I had this uncanny feeling that she is watching over me, smiling away to herself. Why am I day dreaming about her, you ask? That is because she has gifted me with her “indefinite absenteeism”, ever since the morning of my birthday last month. It was a crazy working Friday and I was looking forward to her making it to my house, so we (the Mister & me) could enjoy a clean home at least for the one special day that comes once a year.

goodbyeAlas she dashed our hopes! This despite saving more than a quarter piece from the Monginis Swiss chocolate cake for her. This despite wishing for her to visit us when I blew upon my birthday candles. This despite praying from the bottom of my heart.

In fact, she dashed our hopes the day after that and the day after that day too. She seems to have taken an oath to never visit us forever. I still await the day I catch a glimpse of her somewhere – you know I owe her 3 days of last month’s pay, if we were to ignore the 100 days she hasn’t turned up in the last year.

Somehow, she must have stumbled upon these blog posts I write about her. The first signs started showing right after I described my encounter with an assortment of maids and finally ending up with the best of the lot in ‘Maid in India’. Soon after I had complained about her frequent absenteeism, of course in my blog, she started showing up more frequently until she reported every single day. This I described in my blog post ‘My maid and her newfound efficiency’. But, alas she has chosen to desert me.

And maybe it is for good.

Now my weekends are more clogged with the laundry, the basin and sink, the floors, the bathroom, the cooking range, my weekly head champi, along with my lost-and-found love for art and crafts. Yes, the entire time I had all these weekends, I never did a thing except stare at beautiful and incredible pieces of artwork I explored on the internet. But, now after my maid has abandoned me, I have finally re-discovered my sole purpose for living – my passion for the arts. I have been busy in the weekends doing some kind of art, and of course the house chores.

There’s a silver lining at the end of dark clouds, they say. For me, it has been my maid’s uninformed disappearance for close to two months now. And I hope it remains that way.

Image credit: Photobucket/Vicki Berson

My maid and her newfound efficiency

indian-maidMy bai has stopped giving me the cold shoulder. Ever since I wrote this post called “Maid in India” describing how we (the Mister & me) are the hostages in this employment contract, she has been acting strangely. The first quarter of this year is round the corner and I still haven’t been able to figure out why.

I am scared, very scared to write this post; I have an uncanny feeling she knows about this blog therapy I follow. Perhaps through some extra sensory perception, she knows what I think about her.

In fact, she demanded a raise right after the post, leaving me feeling quite stupid for having written that. Anyways, we had to concede to her demands if we wanted peace at home and some cleanliness if you may!

But lately I’ve been noticing a peculiar work ethos in my maid. She has transformed into an efficient worker since the two weeks of March. I fear a massive uprising is on the cards soon…but no!

For starters, the utensils are squeaky clean and you can see your face in it. Seen the vessels in the VIM washing bar ad, which the brand new daughter-in-law is brandishing away at her sceptical mother-in-law? My maid is washing the vessels like that, can you beat that?

The deep bottomed kadai might not come out squeaky clean, but there is no trace of any oil on it, not even on the handles, like it used to be before. Spoons, ladles, the butter knife, every little thing is washed both sides. There was a time when the holding side had traces of what I had cooked earlier. Now, I don’t feel like cooking in these vessels anymore, why dirty them again?!

Earlier, there used to be a puddle of water on the platform where she dumped all the vessels. Now it is dry and vessels are placed intelligently so that all sides of the vessel dry up faster. She should be awarded a ‘Kaizen’ for finally bringing up a continuous improvement approach to her work!

She isn’t stopping at that. The kitchen sink is brushed hard at all the edges too. Washing the sink was never in her to-do list. All she did was merely pour tons of water on all sides and let drain it on its own. She even gave me a big surprise two days back. She washed up the cooking range squeaky clean, without me telling her to do it, which is the case usually. As a matter of fact, I remember a time until a month ago where I was begging her to do it.

To add to this, my home is immaculately clean. The floors are swept with a vengeance like never before. She mops away in a beautiful rhythmic pattern; replace the mop and water with a paintbrush and colours, this would create a masterpiece for keeps.

She was a good worker, she came with neighbour recommendation a year ago. That was the time, when a few maids had taken us on a royal ride. My next door neighbour suggested this lady, and added that she works in and around a few homes in the same wing. This lady, however, took too many leaves without informing us. One time her daughter was sick, the other time her brother was on a visit to her place, and at other times she would even get rashes!

Now she hasn’t skipped a single day except for one day, the next day she looked frail but happy to report to work.

Her soaring performance deserves a ‘best performance’ award, her efficiency is a welcome change, her full attendance is inspirational, but I’m breaking my head to know why. A few days ago, I’ve been seeing new maids at the homes she used to work at. Maybe there is a clue there. I would be more than happy to write a new post with all the masala!

Image courtesy: Times Crest

Maid in India

I can’t do without her. Nor can we live in harmony. She knows the place she holds in my life. And she uses it to her benefit. So when this noble lady tells me, “Pocha kal” I obey at once with a respectful nod.

Today she reports nearly three hours later than her scheduled time, but I say nothing because being present on the job is an even bigger quality than punctuality, isn’t it? She is reporting after 50 hours, which is fine because little breaks from work helps keep her mind fresh and active. Besides, it gives me and the mister a chance to do some house chores as a break from our very humdrum life of blogging.

indian-home-maid-servant-naukrani-funny-cartoon

Last December, right after my back injury, I knew I couldn’t avoid this anymore. To give up washing our utensils, to give up on sweeping and mopping our one-bedroom home office, to give up on my freedom to do whatever I want with my home was something very tough for me. We had shifted home just a couple of months back and hired the maid who claimed to be the most ‘in demand’ in our housing society. We had no choice but to believe her and depute her. Soon after the transfer of power, a familiar feeling began to overpower us.

Our endeavour to keep our home clean had failed again. This maid hardly turned up. And God forbid, if she ever did turn up, she also made sure to leave within ten minutes. So quick and efficient was she, that all the utensils self-washed themselves, all the dust vanished from the floors before they got magically moped with glassfuls of Lizol. It took me a week to decode her modus operandi.

She transferred dirt to nooks and crannies that are invisible to the human eye. Though, these were visible to the pests that lived with us and often laughed at our ignorance. How I got rid of the pests is an altogether different story that needs to be told as well. Living in rented homes teaches you a lot about human behaviour, I tell you!

I had questioned this lady holding in my palm a portion of evidence although it was ‘dirty’ – dust, hair, a few pulses, some shedded skin too I guess. She was deeply hurt that someone could question her integrity like this. She left at once and promised to never come again. She came the next day to collect her salary for the days she deceived us though.

So 2013 began with this new maid who came with recommendations from the neighbours. This time I got smarter to not rely on self- proclamations. She takes her time at the kitchen sink. Then she carefully sweeps away dust (hair and all) from all nooks and crannies too. Then she mops the floor with a corkful of Lizol and leaves a fragrant home for the two of us.

But, she hardly reports to work.

Sometimes, her daughter is sick or at times she takes a week-long sojourn to her native land. That way she prefers to keep away from the dim of city life and rejuvenate through all the greenery in the countryside.

She works at nearly seven homes everyday, thus earning our empathy. So when she does report to work, she finds herself with more than a day’s dirt to wash, sweep or mop. She made sure it wasn’t too hard on her. So the invariable response was ‘Pocha kal’ which meant ‘mopping tomorrow as today there is too much work load’. Also, ‘you guys don’t seem to mind not having a squeaky clean floor anyways’!

Every thing including her absenteeism was going fine up until I saw her leaving a neighbour’s home after finishing their chores, and leaving on the sly. And, she has been doing this for the whole of this year, right under our nose!

Out of the 350 days she took salary for, she must have reported for only 280 as every month sees her sickness, her daughter’s sickness, or her wish to take a breath of fresh air from her countryside.

She is a good worker who knows her value and her employers very well. This November, I gifted her a saree along with Diwali bonus, although me and the mister did all the pre-festive deep cleaning. She was apprehensive in taking it then. Unlike other maids who rejoice over getting gifts over Diwali, or blackmail into getting them, she seemed a tad bit guilty. Her uninformed absence for the next 11 days gave me the answer.

Well, this is my maid. My very own ‘Maid in India!’ I am hoping you have your very own maid stories to share too 🙂

What do women of substance feel about Holi?

Once upon a time, oldfox004 was on a secret mission but as usual she forgot her way and ended up meeting prominent women and also got a chance to interview them on their feelings for Holi. So here goes…

Rakhi Sawant – Oh Jessus! i loves the Holi, the rangs, the water, the innocent masti…this Holi tho i love to color my bhaiyya Mikka…he’s so sweet na *does the kuchi-kuchi action

Veena Mallik – Holi? What Holi? Filhaal tho all the mulla’s are labelling me ‘unholi’. But, i love Ash in a very ‘holi’ way, kasam se! *sends a flying kiss

Shweta Thiwari – Arre yaar! I gotta wear a burqa this holi 🙁 If Raja sees me all red and wet…??? I don’t like all this skinshow and all…what will my daughter say?  But, its all OK on TV, no? *kisses her daughter

Payal Rohatgi – I hate Monica, she is so fake yaar! Rahul is like my brother only. I don’t like to play Holi…all that gulaal will spoil my skin na…tho phir kya dikhaungi main? I bet Monica is playing secret holi with him…$^%^&*$ *smirks

Dolly Bhindra – HOLI…HOLI….HOLI…HOLI….$%#&*%^$….HOLI KI THO….%$^(*^&*#$…nobody plays Holi with me 🙁 *makes a horrendously scary face…i disappear in seconds

Yana Gupta – But, you know i love color….and especially colorful undies….shocking pink, neon yellow, electric blue…wow! What ? You asking me about Holi? Oh! I’m so forgetful na…I even forget to wear my colorful undy sometimes..*winks

Ekta Kapoor – Holi? Did you just say Holi? Can you see the big tikha on my forehead? I celebrate Holi with all my staff all year round…we use real blood, sacchi! *poker faced

Sonia Gandhi – Hamara Bharath mahaan desh hain…yahan Diwali, Christmas, Eid ithyadi sabhi thyohaar manaya jaatha hain…Hum sabko ‘Haath’ milakar rang lagana chahiye. ‘Haath’ ne sab ka ‘Man-moh’ liya hain. Bharath Mata ki Jai! Happy Holi! *waves her hand high in the air to no one in particular

Jyothi (Common girl) – Holi is nice holi-day for me. I’ll do a nice oil champi and put some multani mitthi on my face. Mum will make yummy puran poli’s. I’ll take to office tomorrow:) *shakes delightfully

Rani (Street girl) – Hamare liye tho roj Holi hain madam..kabhie yeh mard log idhar color lagathe tho kabhie udhar…bole tho ..koi ijjath hi nahi madam…upar se complain karo tho police log bhi…#$^$%^%$ saala! *deadpan

Disclaimer: All names have been changed in order to protect their ‘Real’ identities. Please don’t be alarmed if you find any resemblance to anybody whom you have happened to hear about even remotely. Happy Holi, guys!

The Irony!

woh jannat ki khoj mein nikla hain…
uske liye Mecca bhi door nahi,
apni begum ki izzath se beparvaah
nikla hain tere khoj mein eh Allah !…”

Thus concluded the fakir amidst much applause.

Wah wah wah!”, praised the old Sheikh in delight and quickly got up, shoving his new virgin bride all of 12.

P.S: Please forgive the hindi-urdu mix-up if any. Also, here’s the translation for Karthik, Kanagu n Lance:
“He has left in search of heaven…
Even Mecca is not far for him,
He doesn’t care to respect his wife
He has left in search of u, O Allah!..”

Beauty and the life rainbow…

And just when I had begun enjoying the concept of life akin to chasing a rainbow and actually riding on it, along comes my old friend and blows it up! Remember my parlor wala fiasco and that girl who after much pleading and lauding finally relented to do the mowing ? I had sworn never to go there even at the risk of frightening the kids and adults alike in the family and elsewhere. But time and eyebrows wait for no man err..woman. Their collective desires conspired with the universe to literally push me there.

It so happened that I had reached this other parlor just a moment before they shut-shop for the day, even though I had ventured out early but its just that my day starts in the evening and boy! what a day..There were no parlors in my line of sight and the ones which ‘seemingly’ looked like parlors and catered to both men and women didnt seem worth it. Also, as I’m the chosen one and carry the thunder cloud right above me, it would so happen that there would be a raid the very moment I set foot to ask if this is ‘indeed’ a place where they ‘cut and trim’ hair or thread eyebrows. I could already sense the triumphant joys on the cops faces for catching me young at this Godforsaken place and teaching me a lesson. The probability is that this may happen like once in a million times when the cops were not ‘catered to’, but I’m sure it was waiting to happen as soon as I would set foot, rather it would be favorable only when I set foot. Period.

But I am not as stupid as I seem to look. So, I did not set foot in the ‘all-in-one’ parlor ! That left me again at sea, where do I go for a decent threading job? The usual parlor seemed quite decent and hey..what the heck..she isn’t the only girl there. If she is hell bent on making me feel like a disgrace to feminine beauty, I would replace her with the other efficient (read humane) girls. So, I go in there but alas they too were getting ready to shut-shop. And if Truth be told, who the hell am I kidding…I’m no celebrity. Let that be my self-promotion tactic for blogsville. The owner told me to come back tomorrow within the stipulated time. Ohh Well..yes madam! Needless to say that ‘the girl’ was super delighted to see the disappointment writ large across my face which was now resembling the debutant Karishma Kapoor with her squirrel-tailed eyebrows! I did not see the looks on the other girls though.

I walk out with my face down and the life rainbow somehow had transformed into a grayscale image. I was too ashamed to walk back home and scare the kids yet again. So I take this long walk on the highway, reminiscing on the parlor wali girl’s inhuman gesture and how all the parlors conspired to boycott me. It’s not as if I were walking around with a walrus moustache or a goatee, but I almost felt like I was!

I was nearly half way up the highway when a girl caught up with me and asked me whether I had come to the parlor some time back. She was very beautiful, the kinds a guy would take home to his parents. I faintly recognised her since she wasn’t in her uniform. I said yes. She asked me what exactly I had come for. I replied. She eyed my eyebrows sympathetically and told me to visit the parlor tomorrow without any further delay. As an urgent emergency procedure, she even offered to come home with me and operate upon me! I declined her ‘over humane’ gesture but inside I was very happy that a beautiful parlor-wali girl cared for me. I laughed at the walrus moustache and the goatee I had been wearing on my mind sometime back. Hmmm…and the life rainbow burst with colors once again!

P.S: I so love these beauty parlor-wali girls:)

When Ms. Junglee barged into the beauty parlor…

It was quite a dull day yesterday, though the spring has just sprung fresh warmth everywhere. Sadly, she couldn’t feel a thing. It was all hazy with some kind of fog wherever her eyes moved. On a day like this, a flavored tea would be quite potent to shoo away the fog. Alas! The haze was still there…

Life was calling but where was she? She, the favorite, she the damned soul, she the inspiration behind every murphy’s law, she the Frankensteinne! She glances at the mirror, just a second lesser than one can begin to say ‘F-R-A’, before the reflection gets misty. And what does she notice…a jungle complete with flora and fauna right above her eyes!

She zooms across to the nearest beauty parlor in sight and with God’s grace, they let her in.

Now what happened is the real ‘horror’ part of this post. She became ‘The lady in question’. They glared at her in utter disappointment with a look which seemed to say ‘ how-the-f**k-do-you-think-we-can-help-you’. If she could bury her head, she would do that right away!

Whoever said that eyebrows need to be threaded and not mowed down could well…just be proved wrong! After a hell lot of begging, the parlor wali girl relented and proceeded with her gardening tools err beauty tools. She gave her a decent brushing down too and I mean that literally.

Spring is all blooming now in bright colors and the haze has vanished. She now looks at the mirror till as long as one can say ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the brightest of them all?’

P.S: And need I even state the obvious – I so hate these beauty parlor- wali girls:)