Mannequin on the move

My transition from animate to inanimate was possible thanks to Juice Salon and Spanbsp;who agreed to make me look like a mannequin. I was asked to sport a short skirt and a designer top. My body wasnbsp;painted in shades of golden and bronze to give me a metallic and unreal look. After two long hours and countless brush strokes and hair adjustments, I was ready. I was placed in the apparel section of the mall. To be more precise I was placed near aisle, so that people would get a glimpse of me from any part of the floor.

And then it happened. As I stood there, breathing as calmly as I could, I got many stares from a distance. After a few minutes, a girl caught hold of her friend and came closer to settle the obvious argument they were having, 8220;I think it is just a statue,8221; said one. The other one said, 8220;Look closely she will blink,8221; said the other confused girl. I had to control my laughter.

To help them sort out the conundrum, I smiled back. They were shocked. But then returned the smile and started giggling. I heard one of them say, 8220;I nearly died when she did that!8221; But this was one of the milder reactions I got. I saw a small kid walking with his mom in tow. He looked thoroughly bored and as a special treat I decided to come to life for him.His reaction was a ear-splitting bawl which soon transformed into a howl. The mummy dragged her precious bundle of joy far away from what she must have perceived to benbsp;a bad joke.

I learnt my lesson and tried to just do my job of a well-behaved mannequin. When an elderly gentleman looked at me, I gave him a smile. But he was not in the mood for a joke. He just gave me a 8220;I-know-it-all8221; look and walked away. That was thumbs down. But then I did have other customers who took turns among themselves to come take a closer look at me. So while I didn8217;t manage to charm all of them with my 8216;mannequin manners8217;, I felt no less than a showstopper.

But though it does sound like a lot of fun in retrospect, standing like a statue is painful. The make-up that helped me pull the stunt off was the biggest enemy. I felt like forgetting all about the make-up and enjoy the bliss of scratching my foot. But my fellow mannequins silently reminded me of my job.

After two hours, my day was done. But the make-up would not wash off. I had no choice but to walk out of the mall and into an autorickshaw looking like a prop from a Ramsay Brothers movie set. I did get a lot of stares, but I was not bothered by it all. I had to get back home and indulge in one of the most pleasurable of instincts, scratching my foot. Ah, the simple pleasures of life.