Unmasked!

 There was this ad for some moisturizer, where a petite damsel walks in the aisle of a plane, and a young man,  enamoured by her glowing skin, wonders if she will come and sit in his adjacent seat. The girl stops near him and asks," I guess you are in my seat".. The reason for recalling this is something connected to my morning trip to the market yesterday. Actually I am a middle-aged specimen, with pimple-free skin, but absolutely not someone whose radiance can give young people dry eyes due to enchanted staring.  My narcissistic wishes (which appeared suddenly..) reached the zenith of surety when almost sixty percent of the men (and almost ninety percent women) could not take their eyes off me yesterday in the market place. Almost edgy with self consciousness,  I stood near the familiar fishmonger twirling a few greying strands of my hair. Mehtab (isn't it too romantic to pronounce  in the sweltering May heat?) looked at me with 'wide-eyed astonishment'. "Madam", he said, " Please finish your purchase and leave ". I suddenly remembered a melodramatic Rajkumar looking at Meenakumari's legs and saying," Aapke haseen pair zameen pe mat rakhiye, maile ho jayenge." I wondered if the homemade facepack of turmeric and curd had already started to show the results. The 'secret tip' to reverse the ageing process was divulged accidentally to me by my neighbour who resolutely negated all the gossip surrounding the facelifts and fillers being used on her glowing face, and told me to religiously stick to the milk-turmeric routine. I hurriedly purchased the largest rohu fish, and asked Mehtab to cut ot to pieces.  Mehtab refused to make eye contact with me and timidly said that he will not be able to cut the fish. I smiled to myself, trying to feel his 'adulation', and left with the fish,  and paying a handsome hundred rupees extra to Mehtab.  My next stop was at the neighbourhood grocery store. People were queued up, with their feet inside carelessly drawn oblong white circles atleast two feet apart. As I approached the store, the four people in queue made way for me. With my prized rohu hanging by a nylon rope looped around my index finger,  I entered the store with the confidence of a film actress, with full faith that I was exuding some inner aura. The friendly shopkeeper was shocked, I could see it in his eyes which darted crazily from my kohl-lined eyes to my crimson lips ( which gave me the vibe that  the laughter lines around my mouth have disappeared). Giving my most sincere smile, I handed him the shopping list. I saw his hands shaking as he tentatively took the slip of paper from me using the tip of his index finger and the thumb and mumbled something incomprehensible. I leaned forward, asking him to repeat what he had just said. He jumped back, as if my glow would burn him, and said, " Madam, please go home. I will have your things delivered at your place in an hour." I was flabbergasted! This man, who refused to deliver goods even after endless pleading,  was today offering to do home-delivery. I made a mental note to thank my neighbour for her selfless divulgence of the beauty secret.  As soon as I entered the gate of the apartment complex where I live, the security boy came running towards me.  He braked a good couple of metres away, and pointed his index finger towards me, and with eyes almost-out-of-the-sockets, he cried out, " Madam, Where Is Your Mask?" Like a person struck by lightening, I stood rooted there.  So much so for the exudence of my inner beauty at the 'young' age of forty-two! I felt sorry for all the people whom I had interacted with during my crazy trip, and the potential health hazard that I had posed to all during these pandemic times.. Nevertheless,  I have decided to continue with my turmeric-curd routine. Who knows,  someday there might be actual age reversal and when the world will be covid - free, I might be able to show off my new shades of lipstick!