"Apu, that tube you keep in the drawer — where is it? The holud is day after tomorrow." Her younger sister, standing at the kitchen door at a quarter to twelve.
The tube has a fixed spot. On the shelf above the sink, between the salt jar and the tea strainer, hidden behind the sugar container. Only Suraiya's hand reaches that shelf. All day there is nowhere in the flat to be alone — the TV in the sitting room, clothes on the balcony, a queue for the bathroom. The kitchen empties only after everyone has gone to sleep.
At eleven forty the rattle of the exhaust fan is the loudest thing in the house. The fridge shudders and stops, shudders and stops. The smell of the evening's tempering still hangs in the curtain. Suraiya pulls the stool over and brings down JAPAN Sakura Hair Removal Cream 50g — the pink lettering on the tube catching the kitchen tubelight.
The cream comes out thick, white and cold — a little colder than the tiles underfoot. No rubbing needed, you just lay it on the skin in a proper thick layer. The spatula makes a soft scraping sound as it moves. The scent is what the name suggests — light, leaning floral. A few minutes later, wiping it away with a damp soft cloth, the hand runs smooth, and then the tap, and water hitting the steel basin. That is all the noise there is.
The tube is not full any more. Rolled up from the bottom, a crease across its middle. Tomorrow morning it will not go back to the shelf — it will go into the drawer, beside the scissors and a hair band, because the holud is day after tomorrow and this time the blouse sleeves are short.
On the day of the holud, two sisters' arms lie side by side, skin equally smooth under the mehndi. By then the tube is already in someone else's bag.
There is an empty spot on your kitchen shelf too — keep this tube there and see.
আপনার মতামত অন্য ক্রেতাদের সাহায্য করবে
