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Annapurna Sharma


I find women to be strange. Imprudent. Thoughtless. In the midst of the pandemic, they are restless about the hair on their skulls, on their foreheads, on their arms, legs, back. They want to appear all pink in video chats and zoom meets. My roommate, Isha, is no exception to this rule. She has gone a notch higher – she sprays perfume on her comb and brushes her hair with it – mind you, this is only a preview. The other day she sprayed her favorite, Lily of the Valley, in the air like a wall and walked through it. The concentration nearly knocked me out. ‘What the f***?’ She shrugged and said this way her entire body would be coated with perfume. I opened the windows and door. ‘It’s a zoom meet na?’ ‘I need to look fresh and fragrant.’ It’s April. I swab some talcum powder in the…