Like many lazy sundays , last sunday started with my family having our favourite cup of chai and discussing the hot favourite topic of " upcoming Bengal elections" around the dining table as religiously as a Bengali family could.
Since 15, The bearded old man always appear in all my most memorable moments. He always have a song or couplets to speak about my happy moments or most precisely he makes it clear that I should not be happy on those moments. I always wondered why. For example after having a few drinks on this perfect evening on a Vijaya Dasami with my hubby, assuming as my recent BF in a perfecly shadowy bar where no women would fancy to trade,he appeared as the Thomas of Peaky Blinders (the recent Netflix series I am watching day and night and in love with) and started telling me most vague way that I can be a free woman. As the wind splashing my face on my ride back to home, while my companion chatting about how important it is to learn marathi with auto driver , the old man in Thomas" s disguise was making me lough, lough like a mad free woman, who is free, who does not have to think about 10 year old at home, 93 year old at Kolkata home, or of tommorow if she can perform perfectly at her job.
Red lipstick, always it is a dilemma should I wear it..will it be too brave or too loud!! Will it suit me... for my teacher mom, it is always too loud... always too out of control.. even most happening weddings of my childhood she wore decent colours which were almost non existent on her lips. As I grow up always seen her early morning soft wet curls turn into buns ..glossing light lipstick in her finger tips to make a base for her sindur teep( Bindi) so that stays through the day, and the killing perfume called Elsa... the quintessential taant little higher than her heel and the teachers bag and ofcourse the light shade of lipstick, running hurriedly to catch her bus after doing all her duties as the most dutiful eldest daughter in law of the family.
