The Nose Knows
“Oh dear, she’s so sweet, but there’s just no hope,” I overheard Aunt Justina say.
“She’s so charming, and so beautiful though, Justy, and she can have
it changed when she is older,” replied my mother. “We don’t talk about
it, and she doesn’t seem to care,” my mother replied.
“Well maybe she can work for a winery, or a perfume house- she can be
a ‘nose’!” Aunt Justina giggled, “There is an orgy going on right here
in my nose!” Even mother laughed at that. I sat in the closet, tears
running down, as my Aunt continued- she was quoting someone, but I
didn’t know who. "I’ve considered having my nose fixed. But I didn’t
trust anyone enough. If I could do it myself with a mirror.” Mom was
crying now, she was laughing so hard. “As for my nose, I was afraid of
the pain. And how could I trust a doctor’s aesthetic sense? How would I
know he wouldn’t take too much off?”
My mother joined in now, "From certain angles, I liked my nose—still
do. Some people would tell me, “You could take the bump off.” And I
would say, “But I like the bump.” They hugged each other crying with
hysterical laughter.
Justina gathered herself enough for another quote, “An incredible
nose, bumpy, like from an old piece of sculpture. I don’t like pug
noses or little tiny noses.”
My mother suddenly got very serious, “She is beautiful, and has a
fire within her. She has taken to her lessons better than any of the
others, and will be a scion of disbelief!”
Justina, for her credit, added something I will never forget.
“Besides, my dear sister, the truth is this: they are all fixations.
Today, you fix yourself in one fashion, tomorrow in another.”
Picture of Radhika Sanghani
