Two days ago, I decided to enter an interesting contest. A story writing contest that centers around a new sunscreen released in the Indian market called ‘Lakme Sun Expert’ and a fictional character Kyra which is it’s mascot. Lakme is the biggest cosmetic brand in India. Named after the French play “Lakme’,
which in turn is the French interpretation for Hindu Goddess of wealth Lakshmi, Lakme has played an integral part in Indian women’s beauty regimen for the past 50 years.
Indiblogger.in on the other hand is a blogger’s paradise. A unique social networking platform for bloggers from India and Indians from abroad, it connects bloggers of all shapes, size, interests and expertise, This short story of a silly and sweet 16 year old is my entry to the Indiblogger.in websites’ Lakme Diva Blogger contest. Enjoy!
A mouse, a swan, and a storm in a tea cup
Week 1.
He is cutest guy on the block.
I’m sure I haven’t seen him before. I think he must have come recently. We have moved into the neighbourhood recently too. But it has already been over two months now, and I have already checked out all the cute boys around. No, I’m sure I haven’t seen him before. A mop of unruly hair framing a square face with a strong jawline, he is a swoon. I am almost 5’8 and he is a good six inches taller than me, a rare occurrence. A guy so divine, I know I wouldn’t have missed him.
It was at Anna’s party that I first noticed him, a week ago. He was standing far off the in the corner, not talking to anyone in particular. I kept looking at him. Oooh! Was he hot! I did see him noticing me a couple of times. You know, how, the eyes fall on you, and then dart away. I was so happy.
But I’m not that happy anymore. During the last week, I have found he lives down the street in the pink house. He has a Mom, a Dad, a sister, and a dog. I love guys who have dogs. His sister is older, working, and lives out of town. I have also noticed that he goes somewhere every day at 4pm in the afternoon. And he does not know I exist.
I have tried to go and hang outside a couple of times outside of my gate already so that the boy of the pink house (that’s what I call him now) would notice me, but it hasn’t worked. At 4pm, the sun is at its worst, and it is so hot! He simply zooms by me in his swanky new Kawasaki Ninja bike. Instead, I have seen Kyra, my neighbor, who lives right across from us, staring at me both the times. I am sure she is making fun of me.
I have seen Kyra a number of times now and met her twice. I know we will be going to the same school after the summer is over and I am not looking forward to it. She thinks she is so cool. I am not jealous or anything, mind you. It’s just that she always looks so…. composed. Yes, that’s the word. Her shoulder length auburn hair always has an ultra-glamorous shine to it. She is just the right height too, not a giraffe like me. Her face looks so smooth, and her eyes are always sparkling! What does she do to look that good all the time? And she never, ever, has that bad sun burnt tan I always seem to be walking around with!
That is the other problem hanging out at 4pm outside brings. My Ma gets so mad at me, because when I get back in, I look like a mouse deep fried in oil by the neighbour’s cat. To add pepper to the wound, it makes my skin dry, lack lustre and I look – well, mousy.
“Look at you! How many times have I told you not to go out in the sun for no reason? You have tuition classes whole morning, Bharatnatyam class at 5pm, you are already out more than you should be, and then you have to still go burn yourself. We have a wedding to go next month and you look so terrible. You are almost 17 now. Quit behaving like a 7 year old…….” She goes on and on.
Week 2.
Sunday night we meet at another birthday party. Kyra is there too. I am sitting with a girl I had met before, chatting, when Kyra comes up and starts making small talk.
After a little while, I get up to get some cold drink. The boy of the pink house comes in. My glass almost falls off my hands. After a few minutes, I see him walking towards me. Towards me! I can hear my heart rolling out Republic Day drum beats in my ears. Oh my God! I close my eyes. Then squint one eye open right away.
He walks right by me. I can’t believe it! I turn around, and see him go straight to Kyra, and talk to her. I dump my whole glass of cola on the nearest flower tub. I wish it was his head.
I have searched Facebook, Twitter, and every other social networking site to see if I could find him. I don’t know his name, and we don’t have any common friends. I couldn’t exactly search ‘the boy of the pink house’. I might have had more luck finding him under ‘the boy who sees through a sun burnt mouse of a girl’, but I didn’t make that search. I am too proud for that.
Today, I tried another tactic. We have a terrace; we have no access to it. The owner, whom we are renting this house from, forgot to build stairs. But I’m quite enterprising. I have found that there is a wall back in the garden that supports the terrace. It is not plastered, and has gaps in its brick overlay. Entire week I tried scaling it every chance I got, and finally made the assent on Sunday. Success! It’s so beautiful from up there. You can see the whole green neighbourhood, with its quaint houses, and trees surrounding them. It’s a nice little colony. Of course, I’m not up there to sight-see. My purpose is much more nefarious.
Everyone tells me I have beautiful hair. I don’t think so myself, they are too black, too long, too heavy, and always in a braid. What’s so pretty about that? Nevertheless, if everyone says so, who am I to argue. So I decide to employ the best known asset that I have, and wait patiently at the terrace. This is kind of cool. Ma won’t be looking for me up here, and I have a clear view of the street, and the pink house.
I get all excited when I see him wheeling his bike out onto the street. As he adjusts his helmet and kick starts the bike, I quickly unbraid my hair, and start combing the long, thick volumes that fall over my shoulders past my hips. I have always had this romanticized notion of men loving long tresses on women. He is sure to notice me today.
Zooooom!
He goes right past. Why in the world, a guy riding a bike, would risk breaking his neck by craning it to look all the way up on a terrace, that too for a gal who doesn’t exactly exist in his planet?
Epic fail.
I toss the comb, and braid my hair. Hrmmph!
Picking up my comb, I trudge back down, jump off the wall, and slink into the house. Ma is right there. Of course.
“Look at you! How many times have I told you not to go out in the sun for no reason? You have tuition classes whole morning………….”
————-
The bell rings around 7pm. I have just entered the house, like 5 minutes ago, finishing yet another yawning session in physics. It’s Kyra. She is even prettier than I remembered. And her skin, as usual, is flawless.
“Hi!” she smiles.
“Hi!” I answer back without budging an inch of my lanky 5’8 frame to let her in. What does she want?
My Ma does not let me ponder for more than a minute. She appears like a genie right behind me, and ushers Kyra in, making introductions (since when did Kyra need introductions?), offering snacks, and doing generally what mothers do – annoy.
After a few minutes, Ma leaves us in our room, and we both make small awkward talks.
“I saw you up on the terrace today,” she reveals tentatively.
The very last thing I want to hear today. I knew it. She is here to rib me about my embarrassing trip to the terrace. My ears go red, and I want the floor to open up and swallow me. Unfortunately, the floor is in no hurry to oblige.
“You have such beautiful hair,” she says shyly. I look up in utter surprise. Did I hear wistfulness in her voice?
Well, Kyra is not that bad after all.
“How does your skin look so pretty all the time?” I blurt out, saying the first thing that pops into my mind.
Kyra starts smiling.
“Why don’t you come over tomorrow in the morning?” she asks eagerly. “I will show you how you can also get pretty skin like mine”.
“Really?” I don’t believe her.
I am at her door sharp at 9AM next day. She is excited to see me. I am starting to feel a little ashamed at the way I have been treating her. She holds me by the hand and leads me to her room. She shows me her books, and talks about the shows she watches on TV.
She walks over to her dresser and picks up a bag.
“Remember I was telling you that you could also have a great looking skin?” she asks me.
I nod my head quite enthusiastically. She unzips the bag and takes out few tubes and lotions. She tells me how she takes care of her skin every morning and night. She explains the cleansing, moisturizing routine she religiously follows. Then she holds up a tube and says, “I never ever step out of the house without putting this on. This is Lakme Sun Expert, 
the best sun screen to hit the market, ever.” Her eyes are sparkling as she tells me about how she never gets tanned, and in the process saves her skin from long term damage as well that Sun’s UV rays cause.
“How do you know so much about all this?” I can’t keep the wonder out of my voice.
“Well, my Mom is a dermatologist. I have learnt everything that I know about skin care from her. She is very particular about the products I use and how I use them”.
I’m all ears. And I smile from ear to ear.
“You have such a beautiful smile!” gushes Kyra.
I think I really, really like her.
Week 3.
Kyra and I have spent almost the entire week hanging out together. She took me shopping the very day I went to her house. I bought a whole lot of brand new stuff to use. She also dragged me for a haircut. The hairdresser sheared my hair, lightened it up, and showed me how I could care for my hair and have it look lovely all the time. I learnt to pin it up, giving my long slender neck a chance to breathe.
I have started using Lakme Sun Expert diligently. Ma is already noticing how fresh my skin has started looking. The new hair cut suits me too, with stray strands framing my face. I think I like the new me. I was turning into quite a Lakme Diva. All thanks to my new friend, Kyra.
We talk a lot. We have discovered so much about each other in such a short period of time, and we have so much in common! We like the same authors, drool on the same celebrities, love to dance and have same subjects in school. We even go to the beach, something my Ma normally does not allow, but I come back looking more refreshed, and magically – no mousy looking tan! Kyra’s magical Lakme Sun Expert at work, no doubt.
Even my Ma has started using it every day, without fail. The dullness on her face is already clearing up. Pa even commented on it yesterday. She is extra happy now-a- days, and does not launch into that many lectures any more. Or, at least, they aren’t as long.
My 4pm obsession also has taken a back seat. He still hasn’t noticed me, but I’m not that heart-broken anymore. I am too busy discovering myself.
Week 4 & 5
The weeks are flying by! I have become so busy. With my tuitions, classes and all the fun things I have been doing with Kyra lately, I haven’t had much time to think. I have been feeling like a character out of the ugly duckling story. My skin has started glowing, and I have started getting lovely compliments.
Singh Aunty, who never has a kind word for anyone, quipped the other day – “What’s the matter Mrs Mukherjee! You and your daughter’s complexions have really started glowing. What do you use? Besan?”
I quietly smile, while my Ma launches into an explanation in her broken hindi about Lakme Sun Expert’s expertise and magic. “Woh jabse hum log na Lakme ka noya sunscreen laga raha hai, hamko shurjo ekdom nahi lagta hai……”
I’m sure Singh Aunty is already at the local store, buying those magical tubes by the dozen.
And then there is Kyra. She is my best friend now. We help each other out in everything. We study together, and have even joined a local karaoke club.
The boy of the pink house is a member there. I didn’t know that. I swear I didn’t.
Last two times, I have seen him stealing glances at me. Krya nudges me the third time. “Don’t look, but he is really looking at you.”
“Stop it Kyra!” I protest halfheartedly. My heart is already doing somersaults.
The boy and I are now Facebook friends, filed away under ‘Acquaintances’. We haven’t exchanged any other info about each other, other than three facts: a) he is about 3 years older to me; b) he is in second year at a medical college c) he is a Punjabi to my Bengali.
And that he sings badly.
My Pa probably will hate him anyway. Non fish eating specimens are not too welcome in my house you see.
Maybe I should start preparing seriously for medical college.
Week 6
It is two more weeks to go before the school starts. We have just arrived in Lucknow for my cousin’s wedding.
Everyone is waxing eloquent about how good I look. Ma has bought me these beautiful dresses that Kyra helped me pick. Kyra is here too. I insisted she come with us, and her parents were so kind to give permission. I love Doctor Aunty and Uncle.
The baraat has arrived. Oh! All the colourful ensembles, the lights, the dancing, the merry making. My cousin Priya is an exquisite bride. She is marrying her sweetheart from college. My Aunt’s husband is from UP, so it’s a full ‘band bajaa baraat’ for his only daughter. We have discovered that all the girls, and most boys have a Lakme Sun Expert tube tucked away somewhere on their body. Isn’t that wicked!
I join the dancing women in the middle welcoming the baraat. All my dance training comes 
to the fore, as I take center stage and dance joyfully. My shimmering turquoise lehenga twirls happily as I sway masterfully to the lyrical tunes belted out by the band. Kyra, resplendent in white and blue, is right by me as we match step for step. We have been practicing for this for the past two weeks.
The dancing finally slows down, and the baraat is finally taken inside by the family members for the much awaited ‘ swayamvar’. I do my bit and then walk in slowly to grab a glass of water.
And walk right into a solid wall.
It’s the boy of the pink house. Who now, is more of a man, in a shimmering silk sherwani, looking down straight at me. As his hands on my shoulder steady me, I look right up into his eyes.
I discover a fourth fact. His eyes are a sparkly shade of brown.
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