Dolly paced up and down, feeling inadequate. The members of her kitty club were conquering new frontiers. Pinky had opened a cupcake shop, and Sweety’s spiel on feminism had gone viral. To prove her mettle, she decided to undertake something entrepreneurial.   If there was one thing Dolly was passionate about, it was her lustrous locks she spent hours pampering.  “I’ll start a hair salon!” she exclaimed gleefully, as Manoj, her husband, shifted uneasily. Dolly’s mood swings made his hair stand on end. “Good luck, and I’ll keep out of your hair.” *** Dolly had chosen an up-market location for her salon. Today, she discussed the décor with her event planning team. “Ma’am, what will the theme be? How about a Bollywood boutique with different hairstyles including ‘Priyanka’s pigtails’ and ‘Bhagyashree’s braids’?” Dolly paused. Having recently watched ‘Roman Holiday’, something clicked in her brain. “I want a Roman Salon!” “Eh?” “Dreamy with Italian marble, mirrors, white lilies, sculptures and paintings, bringing a slice of ancient Rome into Rajouri Garden!” The team didn’t understand the whims of the wealthy; but one didn’t question the client, especially a paying one. *** Dolly’s vision came to life; the décor crew had delivered her brief. She squealed with delight upon inspecting her new pristine-white, state-of-the-art salon. The list of styles was displayed: Dye another day, Breath of fresh hair, Julius Scissors, and Cleopatra’s curls. There was a blank space in the centre. It seemed to stare back at her, mocking her ambition. “I need something spectacular here; an artwork capturing fashion.” “Like the Mona Lisa?” “A woman with shaven eyebrows in a salon? No way!” Dolly googled and found the exact image she was looking for; a Roman woman with her hair put up, holding a bowl of grey liquid; likely hair dye.  “This is it; my star attraction!” The decor manager stared blankly at her. “Manoj will help you purchase the painting.” “I will?” Manoj asked, perplexed. *** Dolly sent her clique scroll-shaped invites. On D-Day, she dressed as Cleopatra, and Manoj as Caeser, with a Toga wrapped like a towel. The jewel in the crown was the painting, mounted regally and in-line with the theme; a woman indulging in self-care.  Manoj had outdone himself; he engaged an artist-cum-con-artist to create the perfect fake. The man assured him that not even the original artist would know the difference between his work and the copy. As long as Dolly didn’t find out. The waiters served wine and pizza canapes. Dolly sauntered over to her friends and blew flying-kisses to avoid smudging her lipstick. Accompanying Sweety, was her teenage niece, an awkward girl wearing thick glasses. “Dolly, this is Nita; she studies history.” “That’s wonderful! Nita, would you like to give a speech? In return, I’ll gift a free makeover!” Dolly winked.  Oblivious to the girl’s discomfort, she held up her glass and tapped it with a spoon. “Attention! A history student wants to commend me on my Roman Salon.” Nita cleared her throat uncomfortably. “This painting is by Guido Reni, a baroque artist. His work depicts a Roman Governor’s mourning widow, holding ash soup.” “Ash-gourd soup?” “No. The ashes of her dead husband mixed with liquid. She wanted to drink it, to enshrine him within her, as a living tomb.” A pin-drop silence descended on the crowd. Suddenly, everyone viewed the painting with fresh eyes.  Nita’s speech had transformed the beauty parlour into a funeral parlour.  Pinky tittered, “Did Dolly get dye and die mixed up?” Manoj gasped. The painting predicted his future; Dolly was going to turn him to ashes, devour him, or both. “Dolly is having a bad hair day,” Sweety remarked casually, watching her friend turn apoplectic. “The shock effect is genius marketing! Celebrate yourself, indulge in self-care, for life is short!” Nita announced. Damage control initiated. “Yes! That’s exactly what I was going for!” Dolly added quickly. Manoj breathed easy. Saved by a hair’s breadth. *** Dolly admitted to herself that it was careless of her to have skipped the research. However, the salon was a success, mainly due to the morbid artwork attracting the masses.  Whoever said, ‘cut dead ends for growth’ had a point. Be it hair, or life. She frowned at the letter received yesterday from the Birmingham Museum. Something about the unlicensed use of a painting.  How could that be? She’d tell them Manoj bought it, fair and square. It was time to let her hair down and celebrate. AUTHOR’S NOTE: Image acknowledgements: https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/woman-with-a-bowl-33187, Birmingham Museums Trust.   Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!