Archive for February 24th, 2010

Suffering in silence


Before you jump to any conclusions on the subject of this post, let me reassure you that it is not related to any social issue.

The title comes from my own silent suffering…….in the beauty parlour.

(Ok now, please stop throwing those pillows at me!!  STOP!! Am serious!!)

There’s this parlour I visit once in a while (like once in, MONTHS!). It’s  a small place, very private and owned by a very sweet lady. And each time I go there, by some quirk of fate, I get attended by this one woman…..the one who gives me the shivers!! She is efficient, no doubt, but seriously lacking bed-side manners (or is it chair-side? whatever!). She is sullen, sad, melancholy and monotonous. Yes. Thats her entire personality described there. I have nothing against her, mind you. It’s just that she has this habit of doing the unexpected. Like, for example, asking unexpected questions at the wrong time!

This time, however, she was in no mood to talk (YAY!!) and preferred playing some music instead. I was upstairs in the massage room, undergoing a facial , when suddenly, there came to my ears, a sound as bone chilling as ice. A shrill, raspy voice yelled “Saaajan, Saaajan….” even as my hair stood on their ends (I later found out that it was some song from an Aishwarya Rai movie, title I don’t remember, which had Arjun Rampal in the lead).

At the risk of cracking the face pack, I asked my attendant to turn down the volume, or better, turn it off.

Mujhe pasand hai“, she replied sullenly. And carried on with her work on another customer.

So I had no choice, but to listen to that gut-twisting song for what seemed like ages.

When it came to an end, I sighed in relief. Over. Finally.

Little did I know what was in store for me next.

There started this song, which seemed like Sonu Nigam had lost it completely and was warbling for all his worth. Turned out to be a song from the movie “Mela”. Yup, and you must’ve guessed the song by now. I had never heard the whole song before and I sincerely had NO IDEA that it goes on for , like AGES.

So after all the melas of the Mohabbat, Ashiqs, Dils, Jawani,Duniya, society, kutta, billi et all had gone by, did the song end.

By then, I was a whimpering mass of jelly, scarred for life, unable to even utter a single coherent word.  I finally understood, for once, what made Dominique Francon tick. What it means to suffer silently , specially, when the suffering is self-inflicted (I wanted to visit the parlour, didn’t I?!!)

What were the song-writers thinking?? Was this song supposed to be the next National Anthem?? Why make it so long?? Why have all the top singers in the industry chip in with a few lines, making me wonder at what all money can make a man do!!

Kitna achcha gana hai na?”, asked the attendant of the other lady.

“”Haan, bahut hit gaana hai“, agreed the lady.

“”Phir se lagati hoon“, cooed the attendant.

NAHHHIIIIINNNN“, said I, only to myself.

And for the second time in that parlour, I wished that the earth split and swallow me whole. I didn’t want to live through another run of that song.

But I didn’t have a choice.

Garble-gargle, garble-gargle“, went Sonu Nigam.

I had no option but to grit my teeth and settle down for another round of torture (and they say, Chinese excel at this activity!! Huh, little do they know!)

Luckily, the face pack dried halfway through the song. I practically helped the attendant get the remnants out of my face. Didn’t even let her wipe a wet sponge across it. “I’ll go home and wash”, I managed to utter. She nodded carelessly, too engrossed in her song to bother about me.

Have you heard the phrase about fleeing as if a dog was at your ankles, well, that was me, sans the dog.

I have personally vowed never to go there again.

But I know I will.

Just to see how much I can actually bear.

Dominique, you aren’t the only one.

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