The pretense 

Can’t sleep. What’s wrong? Nothing. I just can’t sleep. I’m in bed. Relaxed. Have a book by my side. A clean face. A moisturised face. Oh, the importance of moisturising. I went to a mehndi tonight.  The dressing up. The makeup. The mascara.  Smeared eyeshadow. Smudged Kohl.  A mehndi is a pre-wedding function. Full of glitz. Full of yellow. Green. Pink. Food. Singing. Dancing. Laughing. Sitting. Waiting. What’s next? Then we greet. We kiss each cheek. Everyone already knows you. They say how lovely you look. Keeping friendly? Or being truthful? Who knows. But I’m back now. Pulled off the sequin, emerald, velvet dress. Tugged it and hung it up in its hanger. In the cupboard. Pyjamas on. Fluffy socks on. Now I can breathe. I like mehndi events but they’re tiring. The pretense. Everyone is keeping up appearances. After 6 hours of social suffocation, it’s time to go. To drive away. I captured this photo before the noise and bustle of the evening. The pretense.   


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