|
| Home | Issues | The Daily Star Home | Volume 5, Issue 22, Tuesday June 3, 2008 |
|
|
|
I am 28 years old and have lost a lot of weight through dieting and exercise and hope to loose more. As a result my skin has become extremely dry and I am also loosing a lot of hair. Please advise on how to improve my hair and skin.
Step one of following your diet is to see a nutritionist who will advise you on a suitable diet . Do not read books or follow any old weight loss programme. Every individual is unique and needs a diet programme suitable for that person only. Answering your query- As for your skin, use the following pack every day in the evening. Dear Sadia, Wash your face with neem water (water boiled with neem leaves for ½ hour and cooled) 2-3 times a day. Dear Sadia, The ready-made protein or deep conditioning packs are excellent and easy to use. Nevertheless here is an herbal option. Yes, fair polish is a very good option for you. No, you cannot make fair polish at home. It does not suit everyone, so let the professionals do it. Dear Sadia, Rub lemon rind on your scalp before every shampoo. Never apply conditioner to the root only on the ends of the hair. Use a mild shampoo like Timotei, Johnson or Herbal Essence. Wash with cold water. By the way To deal with the occassional summer blemishes, try using a concealer that is oil-free. Dab on the concealer gently with a brush, let it set for a minute, and then blend out the edges so you don't see where the concealer meets the skin. Don't brush too much directly over the spot - you don't want to brush all the concealer away! After the concealer is blended, set it with some loose powder.
She looked like poetry, although I am not a big fan of poems. I am more the short story type- written to be told- not recited. I like music but she didn't look like a song, she looked more like poetry. There was an ocean on one side and an ancient sleeping volcano on the other. In between there were trees and lush green forest. Banyan trees growing since the dawn of time it seems; kanakchapa, dolonchapa and krishnochura at each curve of the road and in between. The road to Hana is what it was called. Narrow curvy paths that didn't suit everyone, but the ones who went to fall in love. Four wheelers drove cautiously stopping for in-coming traffic at each turn. No one sped up. We knew that like all roads this will end too, and we didn't want that to happen quick. We heard and read about the road to Hana and now we were on it. Our wide eyes wanted to take it all in, yet it felt like it was leaving something behind. We were not able to absorb all the beauty, we couldn't, it was too powerful, too alive yet too unreal for us to grasp. But there was that feeling, you know that feeling that every place creates, and this road had its signature. We felt it, and we knew that even if we don't have enough sets of eyes, enough time to listen to the leaves brush against each other that feeling would stay forever. The road would take us to Hana, a tropical paradise, at the eastern, isolated part of Maui, one of the glorious islands of Hawaii. Once we would reach Hana, we would then find our Oceanside cottage, where there would be more dolonchapa, kanakchapa and krishnochura at the gate, and Hawaiian music playing from somewhere far. There would be locals, the Hawaiians and the visitors who came to tour the island and made permanent abode. And there would be afternoon rain, mists over the mountains, always to be followed by sunshine. But before all this there was the road, and its curves and the people who stopped at every waterfall to wet their hair and dip their toes. There were fruit stands every 30 miles, selling out-of-season guavas, in-season mangos, custard apples, pineapple, smoothies and coffee. We stopped and ate a Hawaiian plated lunch, two scoops of rice, one scoop of macaroni and barbequed meat - cooked at someone's front yard, open or close for business whenever they pleased. We didn't stop and kept driving. It felt wrong to stop. There was that flow and that feeling and our high required us to keep moving. I kept looking left and right, as far as I could, and between the bamboo forest and black sandy beaches I saw her, the one who looked like poetry. Her hair flowing down her back, she stood still facing the ocean, her feet buried in the sand, her legs wet from the waves. I didn't see her face and I couldn't make out the colour of her skin. She could have been anyone but then and there she was poetry. And it wasn't just her, it was all like poetry: me, the sand, the beach and the krishnochura. Although I am not a big fan of poetry, it didn't feel wrong to be recited. News Flash Books galore
A book is said to open and reveal one's identity. So next time you drop by this popular road, don't forget to explore the books available at this store. Exploring increases knowledge and knowledge is power. By Zion Ara Hamid |
|
|
| home
| Issues | The Daily Star Home © 2008 The Daily Star | |