Surabhi recalls her first brush with nail painting, as a schoolgirl, in 1979. She draws a vivid picture of Allahabad then. An exclusive for Different Truths.

To pick up the thread, I enjoyed nail painting, as I was recuperating from Covid-19, recently. My first brush with nail painting takes me almost four decades back. June 1979, was my Class VIII summer break at Allahabad. It had just rained. The sweet petrichor always aroused my senses. It was evening time and our guitar class had just finished. We were strumming ‘Hare Rama Hare Krishna’ song that evening. As I passed by Pratima’s house, her Pishi ( Bulbul Bua) called out to me loudly. Pratima was my SMC classmate. She was very fair and beautiful. She was enjoying banana fritters (Kola Bora) and Fanta with her Pishi and two other elderly friends, sitting on the brick-red footsteps bordering the shiny red veranda. Pishi offered me too, adding that it was a Bengali delicacy. There was an array of Lakme’ nail paints, a big bottle of nail paint remover and cotton balls, kept neatly on the Sunday edition of Northern India Patrika (NIP).

June 1979, was my Class VIII summer break at Allahabad. It had just rained. The sweet petrichor always aroused my senses. It was evening time and our guitar class had just finished. We were strumming ‘Hare Rama Hare Krishna’ song that evening. As I passed by Pratima’s house, her Pishi ( Bulbul Bua) called out to me loudly. Pratima was my SMC classmate. She was very fair and beautiful. She was enjoying banana fritters (Kola Bora) and Fanta with her Pishi and two other elderly friends, sitting on the brick-red footsteps bordering the shiny red veranda.

The discussion was on a very important event, the first of its kind in Allahabad. The advertisement – in NIP was about a one-day summer course on manicure/ pedicure and a nail paint session by experts from Army background, Mrs Reena Trehan and Mrs Sheenu Grover. The venue was Coral Club and the course fee was Rs 200/-. There were giggles and soft laughter, among Pishi and her friends, as they also enjoyed the banana fritters. Pratima and I were terribly inquisitive about this event. At SMC, our nails were to be kept, unpainted and short. We discussed since it was summer break, even we could venture out with our Buaji for this wonderful event. We also decided to grow our nails quickly by applying almond oil, as the others were discussing this too. There was a week’s time. Pratima was worried, as she had bitten her nails. How could she be eligible for this course, but anyway she wanted to make it to the Coral Club, by any means.

It was going to be dark soon. I took leave for my home, where Meena Bua greeted me at the gate. I apprised her about the forthcoming event. We both took permission from our Dadaji, who was too liberal in his views and agreed to it immediately. My Dad had gone to Aligarh to dispose of some of Dadiji’s property. How I wondered that everything fell in place. Later, it was decided that we all collect at my place and Pannalal our rickshaw fellow would arrange for two more rickshaws. The six of us would leave by 9 am as the course would start at 10 am sharp.

My teenage fantasy during this waiting period still brings a big smile on my face. How I skipped, exercised, cuddled my dolls, took time to clean myself properly. Took so long in the bathroom with homemade turmeric and gram flour scrub. Kept it as a big secret from my guitar class friends. Kept it a secret for my parents too. It was just me and Buaji, smiling with glitter in our eyes. Meena Bua ironed her saree and my dress too, keeping it securely in her cupboard. Pratima and I would wear our newly stitched tunics, from LG Ramchand, prepared for a chorus singing at school, in soft pink organdy fabric

My teenage fantasy during this waiting period still brings a big smile on my face. How I skipped, exercised, cuddled my dolls, took time to clean myself properly. Took so long in the bathroom with homemade turmeric and gram flour scrub. Kept it as a big secret from my guitar class friends. Kept it a secret for my parents too. It was just me and Buaji, smiling with glitter in our eyes. Meena Bua ironed her saree and my dress too, keeping it securely in her cupboard. Pratima and I would wear our newly stitched tunics, from LG Ramchand, prepared for a chorus singing at school, in soft pink organdy fabric, teaming it with flip-flap white sandals, bought from Fitwell, in Civil Lines. I was very happy. We had plans to go to Lucky Sweets too for a Rosogolla treat after the course was over.

Finally, Sunday morning arrived. Pishi (Bulbul Bua), Meena Bua, China Bua and Manjula Bua, all draped crisp cotton sarees in summer shades, with a neat hairdo. China Bua pinned a flower too. Meena Bua wore an oxidised silver brooch with matching studs. Manjula and Pishi wore finger rings and studs. All wore their shades too.

I still remember, my ear lobes were not pricked at that time. I put a black hairband, my hair was shoulder-length, straight, very thick and black. Pratima’s fair skin shone beautifully with her neatly woven two plaits, tied with pink satin ribbon. Secretly, I felt a bit jealous of her good looks. All Buajis carried some money in their smart clutches, either in black or brown colour. We all had a laced white handkerchief each, given to us by my Dadiji. Slipping out of the house with Meena Bua was never a problem, as she would often go to her friend’s place on Sunday.

I still remember, my ear lobes were not pricked at that time. I put a black hairband, my hair was shoulder-length, straight, very thick and black. Pratima’s fair skin shone beautifully with her neatly woven two plaits, tied with pink satin ribbon. Secretly, I felt a bit jealous of her good looks. All Buajis carried some money in their smart clutches, either in black or brown colour. We all had a laced white handkerchief each, given to us by my Dadiji. Slipping out of the house with Meena Bua was never a problem, as she would often go to her friend’s place on Sunday. Mummy was a bit inquisitive but Meena Bua pacified her that we were going for a Sunday trip to a friend’s place and return by evening. I still feel the pinch of telling a lie to my sweet Mom.

As the three rickshaws lined up, we all paired ourselves randomly. Pannalal was very possessive about me. I and Pratima shared a common rickshaw. All of us were keeping our well-moisturised hands in a touch-me-not mode. We all were careful of our dresses too, lest they get ruffled. The rickshaw hoods were drawn up. We glided through the Neem tree-lined path of Belvedere press compound, crushing the fallen Neem seeds that emanated a familiar aroma, after a rain shower, our hearts pounding with joy, hit the road in front of Senate Hall of Allahabad University, crossed University Road, Old Katra, Kutchery Road, Thornhill Road, Civil Lines and finally, Nawab Yusuf Road, where Coral Club was – and is – located. The ride was breezy and dreamy too.

We were welcomed at the gate by two smart, young girls, who directed us to the registration counter, where we all filled in a form and paid the course fee. There was a tricky question asking us, why we wanted to do this course. I wrote, “for personal grooming.” While I knew from my heart that it was just out of inquisitiveness and Sunday fun with all Buajis. There were many other girls and elderly women too.

We were welcomed at the gate by two smart, young girls, who directed us to the registration counter, where we all filled in a form and paid the course fee. There was a tricky question asking us, why we wanted to do this course. I wrote, “for personal grooming.” While I knew from my heart that it was just out of inquisitiveness and Sunday fun with all Buajis. There were many other girls and elderly women too. My two other classmates, Lovleen Sabharwal and Meenal Kaur were present there. Their dads were in the defence. They had joined in to help the organisers, I guess. There was a very cordial environment. The hall was well decorated with two beautiful flower arrangements and a table, adorned with laced white table linen.

On the table were kept various products of regular pedicure and manicure, including, scrubs, lotions, moisturisers, foot masks, several boxes encasing manicure tools, various lengths of nail filers, nail paints, nail polish removers, varieties of powders, neatly stacked towels — big and small, rubber gloves and a big basket full of sponges of various colours and loofahs.

Mrs Grover and Mrs Trehan were smart petite ladies with smiling, attractive demeanour. Both had bob cut hair and were in their late twenties. I still remember Mrs Grover, appreciating my straight black shiny hair and we both shared a similar-looking mole just at the tip of our nose. Mrs Trehan had very protruding eyeballs and had full lips. Both had a similar skin tone and were very active in their work. We were all given two sheets of paper each, a lead pencil and made to sit on the neatly arranged chairs. The session started with a lecture on personal grooming, self-improvement tips like, love yourself, perpetuate a smile on one’s faces.

There was a team of very active girls donned in smart aprons, who gave us our seat numbers. The session started by lightning a candle, placed neatly between the two flower arrangements. Mrs Grover and Mrs Trehan were smart petite ladies with smiling, attractive demeanour. Both had bob cut hair and were in their late twenties. I still remember Mrs Grover, appreciating my straight black shiny hair and we both shared a similar-looking mole just at the tip of our nose. Mrs Trehan had very protruding eyeballs and had full lips. Both had a similar skin tone and were very active in their work. We were all given two sheets of paper each, a lead pencil and made to sit on the neatly arranged chairs. The session started with a lecture on personal grooming, self-improvement tips like, love yourself, perpetuate a smile on ones faces. We were told, try to discover new things and ideas, admit your flaws and weaknesses, avoid silly things, appreciate the person doing anything good, few tips about makeup, hairstyling, mixing and matching of outfits and made us aware of some upcoming courses.

Mrs Grover spoke on nail health. Relating to the important aspect of a balanced diet, general health and even genetics. A balance of Vitamin D, Calcium and protein, is required for nail growth and prevention of brittle nails.

Soon we all were instructed to take off our footwear in the marked corner and part with any finger rings or toe rings. Curtains were drawn, old nail polish was removed, nails were trimmed neatly and filed. Tubs were placed on the ground for soaking the feet and on elevated stands to soak the hands, in warm water, added with Hydrogen peroxide, rock salt and shampoo. We all had to soak and stay put for 30 minutes. After this bath, hands and feet were towels dried. Cuticle cream applied to the base of each nail and cuticles gently pushed with a cuticle pusher. Scrubbing, Moisturising and massaging were all meticulously taught. There was a nice clean feeling altogether. The smell of the massage cream still lingers in my senses. Last and the best part was nail decoration with the nail paint of our choice. I picked up a bright peach colour. We were taught how to apply the base coat first in similar strokes, let it dry and then without smudging, apply the topcoat. A lot of patience needed to be followed.

I still recall that princess feeling. We thanked our assistants and both the ever-smiling friendly teachers. We promised to join the upcoming courses. Meena Buaji’s hands and feet painted in the soft pink shade were looking so dainty. We admired each other’s nails. Even Pratima’s fingers were showing off some painted, pointed keratinised structures. She was so happy. Each one was silently comparing. We clapped in unison. We were treated by refreshments neatly laid on paper plates. A pineapple pastry, samosa and coke concluded our course. As I wiped our hands with the paper napkin, it occurred to me that with the nail paint, the fingers feel a bit burdened.

Before we left we had to write our best moment in the review book. The entire event is still etched in my memory. Those were such carefree days, without the distractions of mobile phone calls. As we bid goodbyes to Meenal and Lovleen too, our buaji’s appreciated their skill and discipline. Pannalal and the other two fellows were relaxing under the shade of neem tree, enjoying smoking their Bidis. I had saved my samosa for Pannalal, which I gave him after the other two had started off. We were all too full but did not want to reach home before evening.

Before we left we had to write our best moment in the review book. The entire event is still etched in my memory. Those were such carefree days, without the distractions of mobile phone calls. As we bid goodbyes to Meenal and Lovleen too, our buaji’s appreciated their skill and discipline. Pannalal and the other two fellows were relaxing under the shade of neem tree, enjoying smoking their Bidis. I had saved my samosa for Pannalal, which I gave him after the other two had started off. We were all too full but did not want to reach home before evening. So we all stopped at Wheeler’s book shop in Civil Lines. All browsed several books of their liking. I kept glancing my peach perfect nails, frequently, smiling and admiring. All Buaji’s were discussing the ‘Vogue body and beauty book’ by Bronwen Meredith. China Bua wanted to check on Elle, which wasn’t available. They were discussing Corsets and nightwear too. I bought a book on dry flower arrangements, which is still with me. It has helped me, win so many dry flower arrangement competitions. I wondered how each one of us had such different tastes. Well, our next stop was at the Softy Corner. We all enjoyed two scoops each of our favourite flavoured ice cream cone. It was about time to part now. When everyone, along with the rickshaw pullers had finished enjoying their softy, we promised to meet soon. Pannalal took us through Thornhill Road, Old Katra, University Road, Holland hall, Holy Trinity Church, Church Lane, Allenganj as Pratima Biswas had to be dropped. Meena buaji, accompanied us with Bulbul Bua. We dropped at Pratima’s place and quickened our steps back home with cherished moments of a Sunday well spent. I banged the main gate in a frisson of excitement.

To my utter surprise, Dad was there at the main gate. He had returned home unalarmed, in the afternoon. My face became pale. I hopped off briskly to drown in Dadiji’s arms. Dad was quick to observe my freshly painted nails, especially the toenails that shone so strikingly in the new white footwear. Meena Bua was quick to reply. She said that both of us had visited her friend’s place for lunch and her friend painted my nails, just for a while. A nail polish remover came to my rescue. My Dad was very strict and warned Meena buaji. He told her that she should take care that I  don’t get distracted from studies and spoil myself with the wrong company. He asked me to maintain good hand hygiene clip the nails, keep them clean and study well to achieve a goal. Later on in life, the nails could be painted if I wished. I remember this till date and haven’t really got a chance ever to repaint my nails again.

I remember how my angelic world collapsed four decades back, so similar to my shattered world about a month back.

How I love those painted nails,
So soft, so calm, so seductive, so warm,
Cheerful, reflective, idyllic, romantic, humorous,
Ominous, lonely, whimsical, tense, fearful, angry,
Lighthearted, how pure, how dear, you, charming nails

Photos by the author