Marriage comes with its own set of “tackle-it-right-now” issues. From creatively planning the stuffing in the breakfast parathas to cruelly ignoring the heap of washed clothes begging to be ironed or stashed away; I am wrestling well with time-constraints and multiferous activities in my life. The one front that I could not tackle well for quite some time was the mandatory adornments of a married woman – bindis and bangles!
I always liked bindis, and there was a time when I used to make intricate embellishments on my forehead with my eyeliner. From arrows to snakes, little dots to tear-drops, I tried them all, till I realized I have T-zone oily skin and within an hour, my creative bindi become a smudged black mark on my forehead.
I then experimented with stick-on bindis but they were also not sebum-resistant. Instead of having ridiculous smudge marks on my forehead, I now had sticker-bindis playing truant. If the smudge marks didn’t embarrass enough, I would now be providing comic relief to my colleagues by walking into the team meeting with a bindi sticking on my cheek! I fell out of love with bindis, soon enough! I was anyways never a bangle-freak.
My job profile entails typing at rapacious speed and any time-off from work means online messaging at an even faster pace. My aggressive keyboard strokes were ignored by colleagues as part of my “showing-off-I-am-very-busy” style of working. But I am sure tinkling bangle-sounds accompanying each keystroke would have ticked me off as a “disturbing-element-at-work.” So, I never actually wore bangles to work, or otherwise and bangle-shopping never entered my list of feminine purchases.
Marriage meant rediscovering my love for bindis and kindling a new passion for bangles. Bindis and bangles entered my life with a vengeance. The much-ignored bindi had quick sweet revenge. I could no longer manage with small black colored bindis – stick-on or painted. Bindis now had to be colorful, large, shining, shimmering, and matching with each and every dress I wore.
I went on a bindi-buying spree and loaded my trousseau (and my cupboard) with packs and packs of colored bindis in various shapes and designs, and as my MIL later insisted, humongous sizes. Any bindi less than an inch long and half-an inch wide, and sans-crystals and glitters met with critical remarks and stares. I had to compete with Ekta Kapoor tele-serial “bahus” and taking the cue loaded on heavy-duty bindis.
I started enjoying the daily task of matching my bindis with the dress I wore. My reinstated love for the bindi was short-lived. However, large or expensive a bindi is, it is not oily-skin-proof, and now I had flashy, brightly colored bindis dangling precariously from the third-eye area, till they finally found a new landing spot – the chapatti dough, the stir-fried vegetable, the pillow, the sofa, the husband’s forehead…. !!!
Wearing a bindi was imperative as “suhag-ki-nishani.” I was oft rebuked by family members for having lost my bindi. It was as offensive as losing track of my husband. In fact a friend once gave me a “from-one- married-woman-to-another-tip” that if your bindi doesn’t stay put on your forehead then it implies your husband has eyes on someone other than you. Brandished with this newfound knowledge, I am still trying to figure out how the not-meant-to-stick-together-for-long-relationship between my greasy forehead and designer bindi, actually reflect on my husband’s fidelity. Answers, anyone?
The above information made me more concerned about the welfare of my bindi as its presence on my forehead was a reflection of my husband’s loyalty to me, and me alone. The bindi suddenly became “sign-ificant” for me and then I found the perfect solution. I started carrying a bindi pack in my purse. I may go out now without my comb, or lip-liner, or office i-card or forget my daily dose of vitamins, but I always ensure that I have a pack of bindi handy. I finally have the rebellion of the bindis under control, and the mark of my husband’s love and loyalty shining and shimmering in myriad hues, right on my forehead!
How I fared with bangles as adornments, is another story, for another day!