Shampoo

The shampoo’s fragrance transported her to a murky afternoon when her father had walked her through the streets of Darjeeling. Houses clustered, the narrow streets covered with potholes, just the way her chest felt crammed. The air smelled heavy with rain. The decay it left
behind, hovered permanently over the little hill-town like an umbrella.

Her father had bought her a big tin of Wallis cookies, Mongines’ cakes, Bikaji Bhujiya, soap-dish, a bucket, a flask and a 500ml bottle of Sunsilk shampoo. These were her last minute needs before she entered the Loreto Hall as one of its occupants. Later in the evening, she would work up Sunsilk black into a froth, so it stung her eyes, and think of her father saying goodbye to her in the parlour. It was her first time away from home.

And now, sitting on the floor of the bath-tub, something about that day seemed to return. The chemical inspired a tightness in her chest that travelled in a lump up her throat and made her mouth bitter. Her temples throbbed.

She held the edge of the bath-tub, as she felt a convulsion arise from the pit of her stomach. She was retching. For some time, she stared at the lather sliding off her head like an avalanche. It landed next to the slimy patch on the tub she had just released. The fluid looked like a trail left behind by a slug carrying a parasite.

In the open, she would have confronted questions. The women in the house. Was she pregnant? The solitude of the bathroom was a solace. No questions asked.

She turned on the faucet and guided its force against her mess, washing it down the drain. Then she drew her knees to her chest and rested her face on it, her body a rhythmic shudder. The water formed a warm, triangular pool, where her thighs and stomach met. Her nostrils were on fire. She spat. But the choke stayed in her chest.

By the time the shower rinsed out the lather, her eyes were a blistering sore. The shampoo’s fragrance clung to every strand of her hair, just as the voices inside her head; accusing, mocking.

She would never experience motherhood.