Every day for the metro, I see my fellow women travellers all geared up for office. What all of us have in common is - love for having a perfect hairstyle.
I love the day when we wash our hair.. nurture it.. fret over the fallen strands..catch a glimpse of them every time there is a mirror around..play with it..bury our faces in them and lastly feel alive in its sweet scent. But I had to learn all this a hard way.
I had long hair long time back in school. That time my mother used to braid them in two neat pigtails with school ribbons. I used to detest them.. I so wished to have shorter hair..and one day with a pair of scissors I cut them off. I felt so free. That was my sign of teenage rebellion against feminism, against anything that wanted to tie me, against pressure to look good and I succumbed to the pressure to look like rest of the girls - one short ponytail with side flicks. But my agony was far from over.. The sight of girls having perfect hair on television traumatized me... I have always had curls - weird wavy unmanageable ruthless curls - who would not listen to me no matter what amount of conditioners/softeners/gels/heaters I would employ. The hatred crept in silently and in college I got them tamed. The feeling of getting up in the morning to see your hair perfect was similar to having won a beauty pageant. Perfect straight hair. That marked beginning of straight life without twists and curls. Probably that was what I wanted and when newbies began to thwart my happiness I again went through lot of treatments.
I have come a long way since then. I realized I had lost my only prized possession - my curls. They started to leave me and all I could see everywhere was hair strands. After a disaster, I let them be what they wanted to be. They stopped growing reflecting revenge for years of ignorance, hatred and indifference. I have tried to make up to them. One day they might listen. Since then, I have learnt to appreciate them and as one my friend said - to talk to them. I ask them to behave and sometimes like a relenting kid they do listen.
(PS: I am a girl after all.. and ranting about looks is in my genes :P :D And today I have a bad hair day :( )
