Of lotions and potions

 A very popular saying goes that one is never rich and slim enough and may I also add that one is never beautiful enough? These are precisely the three things where the maxim of “more is less” applies most aptly. The closer you are to achieving your goal, the further your over ambitious desire pushes it.

With a surge of DIY videos jeopardizing Youtube and social media, a renowned yoga guru swearing upon its benefits and almost all the magazines dedicating pages upon pages to ‘out of kitchen’ beauty recipes/remedies, it is very difficult to not let yourself give in to the temptations of giving them a try.  The eye catching fancy, colouful drinks considered as magic potions, promising to be highly potent detoxifying agents, aimed at making one ‘feel’ slimmer, lighter, happier, glorious etc. are bound to impress anyone and everyone. I decided to make best use of the ample time available to me by delving and diving into the vast ocean of literature, pertaining to beauty treatments, that is easily, readily and freely available on the internet.

Perhaps, this would turn the wheels of fortune in my favour and make me a beauty expert and help me earn worldwide acclaim & accolades. Who knows with my extreme devotion and hard work I might even give myself an opportunity of an innovative start up? After all imagination requires no wings!

 I started reading beauty columns very sincerely, immersed myself completely into beauty related googling. And I got to realize that almost everything available at home, from charcoal to toothpaste to Vicks vaporub to ridged gourd to gelatin, is capable, beyond our imagination, of lending further glory to beauty.  

‘Home-remedies’! The words ‘home’ and ‘organic’ have such a peaceful and soothing effect on our sensibilities. A strange calm descended upon me at the mere thought of starting my own beauty regime that would be 100% pure, straight out of the kitchen/bathroom and 100% chemical free.  "No, I am not gullible; I am strong enough not to give into the machinations of the ever so flourishing beauty industry", I reminded myself firmly. A sudden realization dawned on me that all my life I have been a lazy mindless spendthrift. Most disdainfully I looked at all the lotions and creams adorning my dressing table, sneering a little more vehemently towards my newly bought serum of vitamin C.  I could see all these , about to be declared useless, items looking at me most apologetically.

      Armed with a new zest and zeal , accompanied by many innovative ideas floating through my head I told myself that I could do it. I gave a hard look at myself in the mirror, strategizing my moves and planning on how to deal with my beauty woes. Suddenly my eyes acquired the ability of a magnifying glass and started pointing out patches, blotches, moles, and blemishes to me, in an accusatory manner. I was now determined to beautify myself both internally and externally. I gave myself around 15 days to change the biology, history and chemistry of my entire body.

      The next day I woke up with a song in my heart for I had realized the purpose of my life and headed straight to the kitchen. I made a concoction of triphala, aamla and lemon and somehow managed to gulp it down refusing to oblige the urge of my gut to puke. I deliberately avoided honey, thinking that the bitter the better. My stomach kept sending revolutionary signals but I kept myself motivated beyond my capability, ignored its warnings and focused only on picturing a slimmer me. I whisked honey, curd , lemon, cinnamon, egg—literally whatever I could lay my hands upon and applied on my face waiting for the magic to happen. Instead of leaving it on my face for 20 min, I left it on for 40. My face became stiff, almost paralyzed, my sense of smell was obnoxiously heightened but all I did was to visualize the impending glory. I washed my face and the telescope like abilities of my eyes too seemed to be washed away and all I saw was a happier, softer and a glowing me. I promised myself to continue undeterred, with the ongoing mission. In the evening I again went berserk in the kitchen and pulped all the available fruits and vegetables and slapped them on my face most generously . I decided to have the much famed ‘lauki’ juice as well. I felt as light as a Himalayan bulbul already. I slept the most satisfying sleep at night with a promise of dating my hair the next day.

      After having treated myself to magic potions and lotions the next day , I collected an assortment of available oils and whipped them up with bananas, eggs, honey, vinegar, lemon. In my excitement, I even threw in some dates. “So what if the application is messy, the after effects are going to be heavenly”, I told myself. At night, my husband was unable to sleep because his smelling power, convinced him that someone had puked on his pillow, bed sheet or may be on him. What a restless night it was for him! But i dreamt of him admiring my knee long tresses, with me revelling in the adulation smilingly coyly and at the same time clinging to my beauty secret most possessively. I professed my newfound love for beauty treatments and shared beauty experiments with my sister and friends. A delightful bond was established with an amazingly renewed fervour, over beauty secrets.

      Next day, I became bolder with my experiments and decided to treat my body with a mix of ‘home’ made cream and honey. I told myself, “What better way to love yourself!” As I drenched myself in it, I again asked, “Can there be a better meditation than this?” I decided to discard all things chemical. I took a vow to do away with soaps and shampoos. I also sincerely hoped that my husband would adapt to all the ‘homely’ smells emanating from me. But it took a lot for me to ignore overpowering , unpleasant and pungent odours threatening to knock me unconscious.

      The next day I noticed a small blister smiling wryly at me from my forehead. "Trying to demotivate me from following my dreams?", I questioned sternly. I ignored it most defiantly, although in my heart of hearts I knew the reason of its occurrence. I didn’t want to deny my face the benefits of my beauty recipes because of seemingly inconsequential zit. My stomach also did somersaults to dissuade me from feeding it with my magic potions. My taste buds  screamed and shrieked but I remained determined.

      I woke up with a loose stomach and saw the acne assuming dangerously large proportions standing like an indomitable mountain on my forehead. May be my body was reacting to my treatments. But how could I have given up so easily? I searched the net frantically and stumbled upon the divine benefits of ‘tea tree’ oil in wiping out any signs of acne, blister, pimples or any such thing completely. I ignored all the instructions of mixing it with water or any other oil before applying and smeared it directly on swelled up acne in order to facilitate its healing and subsequent disappearance. My skin cried because of this ultimate torture but like a maniac I dislodged all its protests, applied some more and even covered it up with a bandage before going to bed. Throughout the night the painful burning sensation kept me from sleeping but me and my pride took it as a sign of healing, the imminent road to recovery. When I removed the Band-Aid in the morning my eyes witnessed the ugliest of sights. For a while I was unable to distinguish a nightmare from a horror. A reddish-purple scar! Scalded and scorched! A shock of worst kinds! I was beyond consolation and the worst part was that I had nobody but mysself to blame. Like all other important lessons of life, I realized it a hard way that even organic, pure and chemical-free products can trigger and aggravate worst of allergies. Therefore, i promised to never get lured by those wicked charms in disguise. The importance and benefits of an otherwise underrated patch test lay bare in front of me and caused extreme discomfort to my vanity.

Irony died a hundred times when I was prescribed a steroid laden chemical cream to treat the home remedy inflicted burns.  I once again understood the importance of having a balanced attitude towards life. I took down notes for self : Over confidence is more of a vice than a virtue. Excessive enthusiasm is as bad as all other excesses.

Unable to face the scar in the mirror I turned towards the Vitamin C serum most expectantly and endearingly.