The Hair Irony

"Don't you think it is time for Natasha to get her hair cut?""Amma asked Papa enquiringly.Papa nodded in approval.My heart sank,the moment I've been dreadfully waiting for has finally come.Amma has noticed that my hair has grown long,that is up to the level of the nape of my neck.I clearly knew the ordeal that was to follow,I had gone through this many times.An unhappy Natasha will walk along with papa to the nameless barber shop at Chevayur.I'll be seated in the swivel chair next to papa and the old man will begin his job,scissors in the right hand,comb in the left..Tears will roll down my face with each lock of hair that fell on the floor.But the merciless man had no qualms about a little girl's tears.He was totally dedicated to the job that he was entitled to do.He would continue his work nonchalantly and at the end ,he would give me one of the finest boy cuts.

This isn't the end of the nightmare.I hated going to the school after having a boy cut.Those tactless peers would taunt me with a shower of insults.

"Ayye!Now you have turned to a motta"

Back home I would place my wounded heart before Amma.How could she do such a big crime to a girl who had grown up hearing the fairy tales of Rapunzel.Even Samson had his strength concentrated in his hair.
To run salt into the wound,there was Nandita at home with her hair up to the shoulders.While she stood before the mirror plaiting her hair on both sides,tying it carefully with a black ribbon,I stood there staring at her enviously,brushing my hair for the umpteenth time and readjusting my black hairband.

"Why don't you allow my hair to grow,Amma?"I'll ask her longingly.

Amma always had solid reasons for cutting my hair.

"Only if you cut your hair will it grow thicker".I didn't get the logic behind her answers.I was no budding film actress,I was perfectly happy with the thickness my hair had.
I begged,I implored,I cried,I sulked,I grumbled,I screamed,I expressed a whole gamut of emotions from sadness to madness.Alas!All my words appeared to have fallen on deaf ears.
Amma once said "Whatever you pray for on Good Friday at three o'clock will be granted because that is the time when Jesus died." That boosted up my wounded spirits.I pulled myself together and started to pray.For four years I made the same wish ,even a saint would have lost patience by this time.
The situation turned worse when Amma decided to master the art of hair cutting with poor Natasha as her experimental specimen.Till that time, the hair cutting ceremony had enjoyed the privilege of getting procrastinated.But now, everything started happening in a jiffy.As soon as Amma notices(no,I feel she was watching for it) that my hair has grown,she would run for the scissors.I would sadly watch my precious hair being swept away and thrown into the trash.
At last,I chose the only option that was left.I decided to patiently wait for the time when I could have long hair.Nandita had long hair when she was in the seventh standard.That meant after two years I can say 'No' to haircuts.
But,destiny had different plans.A very unpleasant incident occured in my seventh standard that caused a sudden drastic change in my attitude towards long hair.
At that time the four of us, Papa ,Amma ,Mathew and me would leave home at 8:45 so that Papa could drop Amma at her college which was in the town.On the way back,Mathew and me would get down at the school.
I simply loved these trips to the town when I would put my head out of the window and enjoy the strong breeze that was blowing,it always boosted up my energy stores.But unfortunately,,the breeze would have played all the 'windy' games on my hair .So,by the time,I reached the school I'd a Medusa head appearance.On the destined day,I saw my class teacher staring at me during the morning prayer section.I wondered what kept her looking at me that way.Anyway,she didn't keep the suspense for long.
"Natasha!Stand up!what have you done with your hair?!!"
I proudly gave my hair a gentle stroke,it was beginning to grow.
But the teacher had other plans.
"Do you have a comb now?"She asked.
"No!"I answered,quite surprised at her question.Who would be carrying a comb in the seventh standard?!!
"Does anybody in the class have a comb?"She was not ready to leave me alone.
I was almost sure that there would be no one.To my surprise,Ritu proudly stood up and produced a comb.I felt like whacking her head.She handed me the comb, avoiding my sour expression.I was already struggling in the sea of embarassment and now she has come to push me down further.
"Go to the back of the class,comb your hair neatly and then take your seat!"
I wished I could miraculosly develop some wings and just fly away.Everyone in the class was enjoying the drama,except me.Not only did they find it highly amusing,but it also took away a part of the boring social class that was to follow.With a heavy heart,I went to the back and hastily combed my hair.I pretended to ignore the hundred eyes that were staring at me.
But the wicked teacher was not planning to end the fun for the rest of them.
"Now is this the way to comb your hair"She chided.
Ahh!!Now my hair style didn't please the young lady!
"Ritu!Go help her with the hair"
Ritu obediently left her place and combed my hair.That seemed to satisfy the teacher.I returned back to my seat,with a self image completely torn apart.
A dejected,bitterly disappointed Natasha returned home and told Amma
"Amma,please cut my hair!"
By the time,I reached the high school,the wind of change was blowing.There was a change in my attitude towards everything.The old story of Rapunzel was forgotten.I noticed that every lady who made a mark in the history had short hair-Margaret Thatcher,Indira Gandhi.Well,even queen Diana had short hair and I wanted to be no exception.So,I willingly obliged each time Amma felt like cutting my hair.
I had my last boy cut in my ninth standard.After that I always had hair long enough for a pony.
After joining the college,I started having frequent haircuts especially after the exams.After every exam(which invariably turns out into a big flop)I take the decision to turn over a new leaf.As the first step towards changing,I always cut my hair.Even when I know that it is insane,I seem to do it again.So sadly,I never had the luck to see me in long hair.
Now,Catherine Zeta Jones and Samvritha Sunil have replaced Ms.Thatcher and Ms.Gandhi,I desperately want my hair to grow long,up to my waist.My friends gave me a lot of tips to magically make hair grow long.I chose the cheapest and easiest of all of them.
Hair massage
For the past one week,I've been giving my hair frequent massages.
Yeasterday when I went to the church one of my friends asked"Hey!You again cut your hair?!!"
That was the end of the massage sessions.

The barbar shop from where I had my boycuts as a child is still there.I hated the shop not only because of the haircut ,but also because it had no name.What if someone asked me "Hey!where did you get the haircut from?" what was I to say?!!I was too ashamed to admit that it had no name.

It was a single room,not very spacious and could attend two people at a time.The shop was owned by an old man,later his son joined him in the business.Amma always said that the oldman did a better job though I couldn't make out any difference.Both of them made me look ugly,I felt.Usually papa and I had our haircuts together.Some men would be sitting by the side reading the newspaper discussing a whole range of issues from politics to the recent price hikes of the onion.(similar to what is seen in some malayalam movies)I would be silently crying,trying to grab the oldman's sympathy by giving him a helpless glance with my swollen red eyes.(it was fruitless)

Almost every male in Chevayur had their haircut from this shop.The next nearest shop was in the town,so the shop was crowded most of the time.Even Mathew used to have his haircuts from this shop until recently.

Three months back a new saloon was opened in Chevayur,in the road opposite to the old man's barbar shop.Spacious,airconditioned and with an alluring facade'Your Style' men's saloon easily attracted crowds.But it certainly lacked the rustic beauty of the old shop.Mathew visited the shop the first week itself.He returned with his new haircut one hour later(the shop was so crowded that he had to wait for a long time).He was completely satisfied with the work-they used some electronic equipments,he told me excitedly.

The old man's shop was almost always deserted except for a few old customers occasionally.When Mathew was getting ready for his next hair cut I asked him to visit the old shop for a change and he scoffed at me.Papa still has his haircuts from the barbar shop,though.