Mandara viewed the landscape outside through the etched glass panes of her kitchen window. Right across the street, in green letters outlined in red, was written large ‘Mandara’s Salon’. She briefly looked at her palms and wrists that were showing growing signs of ageing. Nerves, blue and green, were creating an intricate network on her palm region; doctors say that they are going to swell in the days to come. “You should consider a retirement from work” championed her daughter, Suparna; “After all, we have everything that we need to live by Amma!!!” “Easy for her to say”- winced Mandara...

Her salon was the first of its kind to open in that part of the town. It was a small happy place, which was in no way comparable to the expansive salons with luxurious packages at major cities. Everyone objected to her idea of starting the salon; except Kumar, who believed in her intuitions. Kumar and Mandara have had a happy marriage for over 30 years now...but now even he is suggesting her to shut down her place.

Mandara found it strange that she has become the centre of concern and attention, at least for this reason. She was never anyone’s priority; she also had forgotten to make herself a priority. Over the years, she juggled responsibilities in a deftly manner, shied away from admitting that she is tired and exposed herself as a low maintenance person to her family and society. It did not take much time for her to realise that she was being taken for granted. After many months of lone whinings and musings, she arrived at a plan to make something out of her own life. Aarav was completing his 7^th grade and Suparna at 4^th grade. They did not need her help anymore. They had friends and good company at school and neighbourhood. Often, Mandara’s sermons started receiving taunts from her not so grownup kiddos!! those episodes sort of made her realise that its time for self evaluation and progression. It took some rounds of deliberations with Kumar before the course of future was charted before them. Mandara closed her fixed deposit, given to her by her parents at the time of marriage, and made necessary investments. After all, she was trained with some of the best beauty professionals of the time!! If not for her marriage, she would have had roaring business in the city.

Things changed overnight!!! though sarcasm was the first tool; that did not click well. Kumar was by her side. She was determined to not get scared of failures. Yet she did not have to face any of them. The small town grew to accept that women in the house can also spare some time for themselves, to make them feel good. Charred hands, need not remain black and dusty all the time. There are ways to avoid grey hair and that a facial once in a while will not do any harm. Mandara’s business grew; she gathered new courage and self respect, which surpassed her inferiority complex. She realised that since she was a source of income to the family; her opinions mattered. Her children started having a new admiration for her. They were proud to canvass their teachers to their mother’s Salon and it went well. Over the time, the town grew to a more cosmopolitan region. New entreprenuers emerged in the profession. But Mandara kept herself updated...she attended short term professional courses, started offering bridal makeup, flower decoration, gave a modern hue to the salon’s interiors, that ladies would flock in hoping to have a good time for themselves. She employed well trained staff having equal expertise at offering adequate amounts of flattery; making sure that their customer base would not leave them....Now health is taking a toll upon will; Mandara’s hands have progressively become numb over the last two years. She does not feel any sensation on her lower arms. Often she found it hard to hold the thread tightly, and went to the extent of ruining Kalyani’s eye brows once. Thank God!!! she did not make much fuss about it...Otherwise, that would have been the death knell of her industry.

Trying to calm her inner chaos, Mandara remained unaware of the door bell ringing. Kumar, calling her out, brought her back into reality. It was the milkman’s daughter. “Appa is not well today, aunty we are moving from this town next month. My elder brother has got a good job in the city. He says, I can continue my studies there. Though Appa doesn’t want to, my brother is asking him to sell off the cattle, she continued....... was that some sort of a warning for Mandara too? Get out of the business, before you are chucked out!!!!

She could feel her head reeling, and sat down with a cup of hot ginger tea. Sunlight was trickling through the window panes and were creating designs in the patio. Whether the windows are open or shut, it hardly matters; Sun light always creeps in and shuns the darkness.....WoW.....Well, that is a new realisation of an age old truth!!! “You are a strong, flexible person, you can trail through this situation too” Mandara told her self. She contacted her old friend from college Neena, who had a small salon of her own in the next town. It was just 10-12 kilometers away. She was talking about a partnership endeavour for some time. She had way more number of staffs than Manadara had. She would agree to the proposal.....

Mandara’s salon remained closed for over a fornight. It witnessed an overhauling. Installation of better equipments, better sanitised facilities, lady staff in uniform and finally a new name. The partnership was christened as “Mannath”......It meant a wish, and a promise to God...It indeed was one!!!