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Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Mother's Dressing Table

Mother's dressing table came as part of her wedding furniture.
One long mirror balanced on a small low table, with a set of three drawers on one side.
A stool with matching "sun mica".

The dressing table braved many lorry travels from Jorhat, my grandparents house, to Digboi , Guwahati , back to Digboi and again back to Guwahati. The sun mica was replaced twice, not because it was worn out but because mother wanted a change.

The dressing table  had stuff which we don't see today.
Starting with a stand where mother hung her hair pieces.
"Khopa", as we call in Assamese.
In those days, hair fashion was a khopa with rolls and layers, stuck in place with a packet of hair pins.

Then there was a jar of "snow".
And Charmis cold cream.
An ornate "powder case" with a puff.
The puffs were replaced quite often, so they always looked fluffy and pink with a satin ribbon for holding.

A hair oil bottle surfaced once in a while.
The drawers had a few lipsticks.
Some of them had been used and the remnants were like a well inside the plastic case.
But mother never threw things till they were completely used.
She used a clip to scoop the lipstick out for a bindi.

I remember a lipstick she had years back with a green cake which was pink when applied to the lips.
Don't remember the brand now.

Mother would always sit on the stool, pull open the drawer, take out her "make up"- some foundation, compact, powder, lipstick etc.
I would sit on the floor next to her and watch her  as she transformed her tiredness into gorgeousness.

My dressing table looks quite different today.
Well, I have a mirror and a dresser in front.
The lipsticks are still there.
I have lip glosses and rouges and colour palletes.
And a moisturiser and sun block cream.
But nothing else remains from those days.

My daughter does not stare at me when I am in front of my dresser.
She is busy . But she also does not see any magic in the moment.
The TV, the games, the screens are more magical.

I guess  we took great joy out of little moments which seem so insignificant now.

As for mother's dressing table, it finally got carted out of our house quite unceremoniously a few years back.
Maybe it lies in an old shed, forgotten by all.
With memories of a beautiful woman turning gorgeous every day in front of it.