All’s well that ends well

Dove Beautiful Ends to your Beautiful Braids! IndiBlogger Contest

Mirror mirror on the wall,
How do I look after all?

You have a look, a face
that makes candor a grace;
but I confess
Your smile is under duress,
For your every raven tress,
ends in distress;
fails to impress.

With the mirror I comply
for it never lies.

My heart was dropping, I gingerly held my strands in my hands and rub its ends against my cheek and flinched, ‘Oww.. the ends hurt, were they always like this?’ I questioned.  But I already know the answer;
They used to be soft as feather, strong as pride.
To acquire them back,
I require my inner turmoil to rest,
understand myself,
and relieve the stress.

Can there be a better way than to have a walk down the memory lane? Hence, I fetch my Childhood diary.

My childhood Diary: 

Hey there, I am… well I am you, and if I am not you then you are in trouble because someone else is reading your diary and by ‘you’ I mean ‘Me’, just older and hopefully wiser ‘ME’.

(Some more gibberish was scribbled so I turned few pages and stopped when a line caught my eye)

First time I fell in LOVE with…:

Greenrooms were brimming with participants bustling about, some nervously some with a gleam in their eyes, either getting ready or waiting for their turns. There was nothing green or calm about the greenrooms contrary to its name. I could hear several tunes as singers were rehearsing, fading in the noise dancers were making. I took in every detail fascinatingly, this is all new to me as it is my first time with a competition this big or with any competition outside school, I am eight years old, I am here for a classical dance performance, not singing. Why? Because I am a terrible singer but that is the story for another day. I am ready to go on stage anytime – almost ready as I am yet to drape my ghumgroos around my ankles, and gajra around my think long braid touching my waist. No, I don’t have this long hair, though I wish for them badly,  I know I’ll have them when I am older but right now I am wearing hair extensions as long braids and Kathak are like fish and water, one can’t survive without other as one of my silly friend told me.

While on stage, I am jubilant, it’s a live performance with live tabla and all, yet I am not nervous and I have no clue why. Auditorium (Ravindra Natya Grah) is packed, as I am dancing all I can see are the people sitting in the front row and they are smiling, my heart swelled when I saw my mother standing near the stage with pride and my Dad taking pictures, dancing is the passion I inherited from my Mother.

I was eight

They said it’ll be a tough competition as there were no age groups, all were judged under categories of classical/semi classical and folk/western separately in both dancing and singing. But I don’t care about winning as I was the youngest under my category, I am just here to savour the experience and am glad that I cleared all the auditions to reach here– The credit goes to my esteemed Guruji and his daughter. So one can understand my astonishment as I was announced first runner-up and the first thing chief guest told me was “beta you have pretty hairs and they were hiding your pretty expressions.” And he smiled, I smiled too and turned in the direction of public and was awestruck, now I know why I wasn’t nervous before because I didn’t know this feeling of winning, sound of applause, all cheering for me and I fell in love with dancing, with that feeling of triumph, with my floral essence braid. That was the First time I fell in LOVE with MYSELF.


(I closed the diary as I was suddenly overwhelmed with all those forgetting feelings, after collecting myself I opened it to a random page, now I was a bit older but again I was talking about the pleasure of uniting with my best friends–Ghungroo, beats, music and dancing like no one’s watching, as I grew older my braids got longer and my diary was filled with the good old days when life was relaxed, I had ample time to chase my passion and let my mother take care of my hair but things started to change in my pursuit of career and I abandoned my pursuit of happiness.)


As I put my diary back, I realized I had forgotten to love myself for I have ceased to chase my passion at some point, I have lost the gleam of my eyes, I have forgotten my yearning for long hair as I have been trimming them because of the constant split-ends. Thanks to the pollution, regular straightening, stress, time constrain and all the reasons one can name.
It’s time to change, I can take care of my pursuit of happiness but I need love ‘n’ care for my hair, though I have tried many different brands of hair cleansers and conditioners but nothing worked so far.
Then one day one of my friends introduced me to the new Dove Split Ends Rescue System.


After a week:

I stood facing the mirror which reflected the new ME
And I sang:

Mirror mirror on the wall
I am lively after all
new confidence I gain
from the promise that I’ll never split again
from my best friends, my passion
for in pure love, DOVE did prepare
those potions to enrich my hair.

Now no more split-ends,
Just beautiful braids with beautiful ends
much exuberance it transcends
becoming my lovey-dovey friend

Once again I
Weave, weave, weave my hair with LOVE
braid, braid, braid my hair with DOVE

Dancing Drizzling love
  ♥Ov’r and ov’e is


♥Finally All’s well that ends well♥

©AnkitaS 2013

This post is the part of ‘Beautiful ends to your beautiful braids’.
Contest by Dove Split Ends Rescue System in association with
(Tell your friends that you’ll never split ever)


5 thoughts on “All’s well that ends well

  1. Loved the post and the photographs ankita 🙂 you look good in the dance costumes. Haven’t learnt kathak, but I love watching it. I guess north indians follow kathak mostly while in the south its more of bharatnatyam and kutchipudi.

    Lovely braids too 🙂


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