| I want to be a supermodel – wrote Dheuva | | | | throat for her address to the board of directors. She |
| – in her assessment sheet. Then cancelled it out | | | | dismisses their silent questions with an air of |
| again, when she thought of her 5ft 3 built, coffee | | | | arrogance. She moves around the wet floor |
| brown colored, and box shaped frame. Sure she had | | | | mimicking moves she has observed from her seniors, |
| almond shaped eyes that changed color from a dark | | | | while they made their presentations. All the while her |
| brown to a hazel everytime they lit up, and a smile | | | | visiting card peeps from the pocket of her just worn |
| that was dangerously contagious, but considering | | | | trouser, her designation – Executive – edited |
| herself suitable for professional modeling was pushing | | | | with a scribbled – Senior. Her first promotion at |
| it too far. As she walked back home after lectures, | | | | work. |
| she had long forgotten about the cancellation on the | | | | Her forehead is marked with vermillion, and a string |
| assessment sheet. | | | | of black and gold beads is hung around her neck. Her |
| | | | | wedding vows were exchanged years ago, and the |
| Blue tiles with lavender flowers drawn on them nod in | | | | essence of marriage eventually faded into |
| consent. The white floor meets her step as she | | | | indifference, yet Dheuva was still Mrs. Bannerjee |
| graces her audience with a smile. They seem to be | | | | – a title she wore with every symbol of a |
| smiling back. Even the blue basin which stands at the | | | | wedded woman. At every party, her husband's |
| other end seems to beckon. The faucets, the soap | | | | colleagues credited her with his success as a reputed |
| dish, the buckets, all look upbeat, glistening and | | | | criminal lawyer – the woman behind the |
| awake. She starts the tap to shut out the noise of | | | | successful man - they said. Dheuva smiled like the |
| the daily soap programme that's on full volume | | | | obedient wife that she had been modeled into and |
| outside. In her one room kitchen flat, where she lives | | | | proceeded to serve her husband's dinner. She was no |
| with her parents, this was her space, her domain. It | | | | success charm, just an insignificant homemaker. |
| doesn't matter much to her that the time she gets | | | | |
| here is brief, because in the world that she knows, a | | | | She has left the lavender flowers behind and now |
| world where gardens are grown on a one-foot | | | | the walls are covered with abstract designs of black |
| window ledge, privacy has not yet been discovered. | | | | and red – dizzying circles that merge into jagged |
| The water on the floor begins creating myriad | | | | edges. The room is different but its no longer a |
| patterns of curves and ‘ess-es' with the strewn | | | | stranger, it remains her preferred hideaway. The |
| strands of hair, and the heat from the bucket rises | | | | bathroom is bigger now. The glass shelves placed on |
| to create a fog between the four walls of her stage. | | | | either side of the full length mirror hold their |
| Today she's a famous model, a face that the | | | | toothbrushes, his shaving kit and her hair care |
| fair-skinned envy and others desire. She flutters her | | | | potions. She starts the shower and lets the water |
| eyes at the reflection, tilts her head back and pouts | | | | flow through her being. Tiny rivulets that find their |
| for the camera. Then she nudges her head lower till | | | | way into intimate nooks and corners, caressing her, |
| her dark brown tresses partially cover her face. She | | | | calming and yet arousing her in a way that's seems |
| holds that pose till the camera clicks away. It's a | | | | almost forbidden. She's not a wife here; she's never |
| perfect shot. And then the bucket overflows. | | | | been a mother. She is only a woman, a creator of |
| | | | | images that live in her mind. She rehearses the lines |
| Dheuva and her sweetheart met on a social | | | | of her upcoming already houseful show – "I will |
| networking site. She casually accepted his random | | | | not live in your shadows; I am me, a person, a life, a |
| friend request and before long they discovered a | | | | living beyond an existence. I will shine through, like |
| comfort zone with each other. On their first date she | | | | the light that creates you." The candles flicker and |
| thought him talkative, yet quite interesting, and | | | | the rain stops. |
| constantly blushed in response to his stream of | | | | |
| flowery compliments. It might have been their fifth | | | | A garland of sandalwood flowers adorned |
| or sixth date, and Dheuva was officially smitten. | | | | Mr.Bannerjee's photograph. Dheuva emptied out his |
| Though, she still didn't know how many siblings he | | | | wardrobe to the household-helps, a parting gift to |
| had or even where his parents stayed, she thought | | | | them all. For the first time in 30 years she had time |
| these details were petty to fuss about; she would | | | | to think about something other than her husband's |
| deal with it later. He made her feel like a queen and | | | | needs, wants, expectations. But yet, partly out of |
| she was blissfully blinded to every thing else. | | | | habit and partly due to fatigue she simply found it |
| | | | | difficult to focus on any thing in particular. |
| The lavender flowers are more greyish today. | | | | |
| Outside the single window, the rain pours incessantly. | | | | Reclining on her armchair in the comforting warmth of |
| Inside the blue walls her tears taste like salt. The | | | | the winter dusk, she looks at the stretch of grass |
| thunder muffles the cries of her broken heart. The | | | | before her. The unkept, wild, free grass. She would |
| vapor forms clouds in front of her gaze, and she | | | | tend to it in her younger days, now she lacks the |
| sees her lover with another woman. She holds on to | | | | spirit. She is not the woman that she could be, nor |
| the razor, poised at a right angle to her wrist, while | | | | one that she wanted to be. Her stage is no longer |
| they make out in the back seat of the taxi riding | | | | confined to the walls of the bathroom – the only |
| right past her. | | | | room that shut the world out. Her world now doubles |
| | | | | up as the stage. The entire house – 2 bedrooms, |
| The corporate jungle with its snares is not a place | | | | a kitchen, a living area, and a study – all hers. She |
| for the weak willed. Had someone told Dheuva that | | | | misses an audience sometimes, but then again, she |
| earlier, she might have heeded her mother's advice | | | | never has had a live one. As the evening sun turns a |
| and applied for a teaching job, instead of subjecting | | | | hue redder, she sees through the neglected blades of |
| herself to the daily turmoil of the corporate class. Her | | | | grass, a tiny, virtually insignificant new bud erupting |
| desk was located at the far end of the office with | | | | from the heart of the earth. And in that last ray of |
| no view of the world outside. She saw the sky only | | | | light she spots the spark that moves her towards |
| twice a day; it was a bright blue on her way to work | | | | the dawn – Hope! |
| and a dark indigo on her way back home. Her job | | | | |
| involved entering information; sorting it into | | | | Dheuva has an important meeting today. She picks |
| understandable rows and columns - just the way | | | | her favourite saree: guava pink with a cream border. |
| errant school children are grouped into straight lines | | | | She ties her hair into a sophisticated bun. It has been |
| according to their standards and classes. Well, she | | | | a while since she took the effort to dress up, and |
| was similar to a teacher in that sense. | | | | she struggles with lining her eyes with dark kohl. She |
| | | | | purses her lips together to smooth out the lip balm, |
| She's not much of a singer, yet today she sings while | | | | and reaches out for her pearl set. She looks at |
| she dances like Santa on Prozac. The shower faucets | | | | herself with approval and prepares to begin her |
| are her dancing partners. They're somewhat rigid but | | | | meeting. She reaches out towards the mirror, smiles |
| they support her well as she twirls on her toes, and | | | | and says – ‘Hi, I'm Dheuva. Pleased to meet |
| arches backwards. She straightens up and clears her | | | | with you. |