A beautiful young lady sat opposite me across the table on the train. She took out a little sequined rectangular sachet from her big huge black handbag that could have housed a small Romanian village. She dipped into her handbag and produced a packet of hand wipes, pulled one out and thoroughly cleaned her hands. She proceeded to unzip the sachet. Out came 3 little differently sized beige coloured make up thingies. She opened one, poured a dollop of the fawn coloured thick creamy fluid on to her left index finger and dabbed it all over her face. She opened the mirror that was on the inside of the lid of the square pot and spent the next 4-5 minutes just working the stuff into her facial skin with both hands. She took great care and made sure that her hairline was fully integrated into the face. She checked and rechecked for perfection from various angles. Her fingers twitched every now and then like an artist anticipating her next stroke.

Thereafter she proceeded to the next layer, then the cheeks, the eyelids, eyes, under-eyes and finally the lips. All done meticulously! This routine was only interrupted by periodic cleaning of hands, worktop and the various pots. She was completely immersed in her ritual oblivious to everything around her. She spent 33 minutes doing what takes me 2 and a half minutes at most. To me she looked beautiful before and after.

For those 33 minutes I was completely taken in by her ritual. I thought of it as her sharing something very personal. I was grateful to her for taking my attention away from my own thoughts for a while. Stepping into someone else’s world is refreshing. May be I’ll see her again sometime. May be I won’t.