I am not too modest to tell you that I am no slouch in the eyelash department. My students used to say that my eyelashes were my "chaamu pointo." If anyone can spot a "charm point," it's seventh grade girls. But I never thought about them all that much.
Once, on a visit here in 2002, I was waiting for rush hour to pass so I could get on the commuter train with my huge backpack, and I camped out for a few hours in a Saizerya. (This is one chain of 24-hour restaurants where you can sit and nurse the hot and cold drink bar for as long as you can stand the vinyl booths and poor ventilation.)
I watched two girls in high school uniforms empty their makeup bags onto a table and line up tubes of mascara. They each pulled out a mirror the size of a paperback book and started layering gunk onto their lashes, wand after wand after wand. When they were done, it looked like they'd fallen eyes-first into a pit of tarred pine needles.
The ads for Heroine Makeup, like the one above, don't understate the case. Another one said in Japanese something like "Win by eyelashes."
The woman next to me on the train seems to have taken this to heart.
A flock of Disney sparrows could land - could nest - on her lashes.
If eyelashes are life, if victory is by a lash, she wins.
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