The Crown

She brushed her jet black hair behind her ears, pulled the longer strands into a tight, high raised pony and stood staring at herself in the mirror. A tiny pimple had erupted just below her lips. She twitched. Splashing cold water onto her face, she looked at her reflection more closely, hoping against hope that the pimple would have disappeared merely by the touch of water. But it sparkled right there, like dew upon a blossomed flower. It could do nothing but further accentuate her fresh morning glow. Innocent of this fact, she silently cursed herself for having eaten that extra bar of chocolate. Wrapped in a light blue towel, she stepped on the weighing machine. The needle pointing at 55.5 refused to come just a few millimeters down to 55. She cursed again, but this time the Cadbury's company. Damn! They make such amazing chocolates.

Heaving a huge sigh of disgust, she leaned on a chair - her face neatly plastered with a pure white scrub that outlined her eyes and thin rosy lips. Each of her sparkling blue eyes was hidden beneath a slice of fresh cucumber. Her perfectly chiseled feet were immersed in a bucket of warm water. As she relaxed herself in the lingering smell of jasmine scented olive oil, her mind brought in front her, pictures from the news last night – beautiful ladies walking elegantly on stage, one amongst whom was crowned Miss World. It was impossible to refute the fact that she craved to catwalk on that stage, representing her country. Bold and beautiful. Sadly though, it wasn't to happen anytime in this lifetime.

Having to bring up a family of two sisters and a widowed mother, she had greater responsibilities to shoulder. Shattering her childhood dreams of becoming a beauty pageant, she went on to study engineering in a government college, amidst half a dozen proposals, each one of which she turned down, followed by campus placement with a leading software company. Sometimes, she felt God was just playing pranks with each one of his creations. His generosities indeed were very thoughtful, but at times, totally unnecessary. Or so she thought. She had everything it took to become what she desired for, yet such a mishap kept her far from her naïve dreams. Choice was a tough thing, especially because each one came with a unique and sometimes even a surprising consequence.

Thinking of dreams, of home, of her mother and her long-gone father, a drop of tear rolled down, leaving a trail on the dry remains of the facial scrub on her cheek. Her skin had become stiff. She removed the cucumber from her eyes and looked at the wall clock. She was late. She had to attend to an on-site call in the next thirty minutes. With no other choice left, she cat walked for her morning shower.