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Monday, November 24, 2008

Come into my parlour

The Spider and the Fly
Mary Howitt
Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly,
'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I've a many curious things to shew when you are there.
" Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."

"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly.
"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile,
I'll snugly tuck you in!"

"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, " Dear friend what can I do,
To prove the warm affection I 've always felt for you?
I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;
I'm sure you're very welcome -- will you please to take a slice?"
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind Sir, that cannot be,
I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"

"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I've a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,
If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."
"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you 're pleased to say,
And bidding you good morning now,
I'll call another day."

The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
"Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple -- there's a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue --
Thinking only of her crested head -- poor foolish thing!
At last, Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour -- but she ne'er came out again!

And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words,
I pray you ne'er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,

And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.

Pedi? Sure
I got my first-ever pedicure recently at my neighbourhood beauty parlour in Dadar. Surprised? I'm sure. For those who don't know me and have been following my blog and articles may wonder why I waited till the age of 25 to get my feet cleaned at the parlour - after all, girls nowadays start attending to their cuticles when they barely enter their teens. Those who know me may believe that I have succumbed to a form of witchcraft. Most people who know me believe I don't have the patience to warm a chair for too long - let alone watch someone else cater to my womanly needs.Anyways, that's not the subject of this blog. The pedicure experience is. The attendant started by applying some canary yellow foot cream. She then worked on my nails with a file and clipped my cuticles with a remover. Next came some shocking pink soap gel followed by a grey sandy herbal pack. I twiddled the toes that were dipped in a tub of hot water. Then came the shocker electric blue paste she smothered on my calves. Jesus! That colour would have put a flaming cocktail to shame. But I thanked my stars that it was on my foot and not my face - like the girl's in the next chair. And if that wasn't enough, I heard the attendant shout to another, "Woh vibrator idhar pass kar." I almost fell off the chair. Later that day, I told my friends about it. They cracked up, "Are you sure you got yourself a pedicure?" Well, it seems like it. I haven't soiled my feet.

Mane blame
Getting a haircut for your own wedding is a task in itself and with my kind of curly frizzy just becomes monumental. So I stepped into VLCC at Churchgate looking for my favourite hairstylist Arif. Arif's been cutting my hair for three years now. He's bald and reliable. But this time I was disappointed when a woman hairdresser took a pair of scissors and approached me. I looked to my right and found Arif working on a girl's hair. He nodded to me, smiling slyly. The woman took her scissors as I cowardly told her that I'm getting married and all I wanted was a trim. She asked me if I had a particular hairstyle in mind for the occasion. I cringed. My unpreparedness for my wedding was soon going to be exposed to a complete stranger. I muttered, "A bun." "What kind of bun?" "I think she'll clip on some extensions and place them in a bun. I just don't want it too short." After 45 minutes in the barber's chair, I woke up to the reality that my hair was much shorter than I was prepared for. She blow-dried it to make it look longer, but I was no fool. I could only betray my disappointment and hope sincerely that my hair would grow by at least 0.3 of an inch till my wedding.

Perm in Patna
I happened to walk into Sterling near CST the other day, where I saw a guy with cool tendril-like jet-black curls. Now, that's something you don't see on heads too often. As I ogled at him, my friend from Patna turned to me and said, "You know I had once permed my hair.I think I was 14" I was shocked. I've seen my pal bald. But a perm? That too at 14? Having studied at a rigid Protestant school in Pune for a greater part of my life, I simply couldn't belive that a guy could keep his hair long and permed and still attend school. I suspected my friend was a drop-out. Why, in my school in Pune if our hair grew even half an inch longer than shoulder-length, we were forced to oil and tie ponytails. My friend assured me indeed had completed school. "It was a government school in Patna. The teachers couldn't care how we looked. Plus,all happened during the study leave before the final exams so I couldn't really wear it to school to show off." Mercifully!

1 comment:

Unknown said...

are we actually going to see pictures madam?