From facials to mani-pedi, Limelite Salon has it all

It was the day of a confidence vote in the state legislative assembly, earlier this February. And my forehead had promptly sprouted a ripe pumpkin-sized pimple that morning, slap-bang over the bridge of my twitchy nose. Two great reasons, I figured, to venture down to Limelite Salon for a facial, and spare myself the agony of compulsive facepalming. While I was at it, I could have my fingers and toes looked at too, and perhaps, get some of the grime out of my knotty hair. 

The packages I was offered were the Divine White Facial, and the Ice Cream Mani-Pedi, apart from a hair and scalp inspection by in-house expert, Mohan. Limelite is one of few salons in the country to use top-of-the-line cosmetic products of the German brand Jansen, I was informed. The ice cream on offer, however, was not in any way edible. 

Many ways to skin a callus
I jumped right into the mani-pedi, gleefully plunging my callused feet into a tub of bubbling water. Gong Mai, my therapist, almost fondly cradled and scrubbed the soles of my feet, engaging me in talk about his North-East roots, and the extensive training he underwent at Limelite. The cleanser he was using, of essential oils, shea butter and avocado, opens up pores and cleans dead cells, he said, making my toes wiggle in delight.
He’d been trained well evidently, as he  filed my nails, applied cuticle cream, and made sure that I’d learned the name Bomb Cosmetics, of organic products shaped like ice cream cones, donuts, cupcakes and marshmallows. To liven things up, he tossed in a Strawberry Fields scrub, with a strawberry cream body polish, giving me tips on reflexology all through, about the points he was applying pressure on, to relieve the stress burls clumping my nerves. When he was done, I was ready to prance out of the salon cooing My Favourite Things like a Trapp toddler on the fields of Salzburg.

Putting a simile on my face
For my hair and scalp inspection, named the Kerastase Densifying Ritual, the stylist Mohan whipped out a special camera mounted on a cell-phone, revealing magnified views of sections of my head, in a bunch of 
visuals that seemed like they were of Martian terrain.
Having identified a few balding spots, and to stop me from cringing at the thought of going hairless, Mohan dabbed in a few “high-end” regenerative products on my scalp, before packing me off with a warm rinse, shampoo and trim of my locks of hair.
Wrapping up with the facial, I got some added attention over the dark spots, circles, crow’s feet and 
weary laugh lines that define my mug. I warmed up to the idea of more natural fruit acids lending a Photoshop-worthy glow to my skin, while pondering over the day’s political wrangling that 
I’d turned oblivious to, if only for a few hours.