“Would she hate me? Would she ask me to leave?”As these thoughts flew around in my head, I called out, “Akka! I finished.”“Come here, dear”, she called out and I went to the next room.As I entered, she turned to look at me, and said softly, “Pretty, so pretty”.“Really?”, I asked.“Come here dear”, she said and I went to her. “Sit down”.I sat on the bed. Divya Ma’am went to her dressing table, opened a couple of drawers and came back with a few things.“Be still now”, she instructed.She began outlining my eyes with a thick kajal pencil. Once that was done, she proceeded to apply a bright-red color lipstick. Next, she attached a pair of clip-on earrings. After that, she affixed a designer bindi on my forehead. Finally, she took a comb and styled my hair in a different manner. All this took about 15 minutes. Once this was complete, she held me by my shoulders, made me stand up and guided me to the full-size mirror in the room. I drew a sharp breath as I gazed into the mirror. It was like,. The first few weeks were just as I’d thought, boring. Grandpa watched television most of the time. He wasn’t too bad, gave me space to let me do what I wanted. Sometimes I felt like I was intruding and other times I felt like he was glad I was there to give him some company.On one of these days I got off the school bus crying. I ran inside and slammed the door, running to the bathroom. I turned the faucet on and washed my face. As I patted my face dry I looked at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t as ugly as those boys thought. I wasn’t the prettiest girl ever but I sure tried to be. I wore the cutest clothes I could find and always did my hair great.“Hey, what’s got you all upset?” Grandpa asked through the door.I opened it and peered up at him. “Some boys were being mean to me on the bus today.”“Well tell me what happened,” he grabbed my hand and led me to the kitchen. “The boys told me that I was ugly and that all I was good for was sex.”“Honey, you are drop dead gorgeous! They have no.
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