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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Love / Romance / Dating
- Published: 10/17/2014
The Haircut
Born 1980, F, from Commerce Township, Michigan, United StatesIt had been 12 years. 12 years since she had had a haircut. She had always prided herself on her hair. After all, it was her long tresses that had got her her husband. Well, that wasn't the only thing. There was her too; a bright, vivacious girl he couldn't have refused. It was an arranged setting. An alliance suggested by her uncle, who knew both the families. Fortunately for everyone, and more so for the girl and the boy, it worked.
They met at her place. She wore a white salwar kurta with a light gold border. Her hair, thick and lustrous, the color of chestnut, cascaded down to her waist in perfect little curls. It was parted to one side and pinned carefully behind her ears where a dainty Hibiscus flower sat tucked in her pretty ringlets rather inconspicuous. They spoke nervously at first but as the evening wore on; they chatted and laughed like old friends. It was an instant connection and talks of an impending wedding soon filled the busy household.
Two years hence and much had changed. Twins within a year and a lucrative job offer had ushered in a better lifestyle although it brought with it copious amount of work at the office, longer commutes, shorter evenings and busier weekends. But in spite of their hectic schedules, they made time for each other and lived a happy family life. Their fondness for each other had only deepened and they loved each other just as much if not more.
While she made every effort to keep the threads of her married life intact, she did, however, neglect herself. She wasn't particularly good looking but it was always her hair that had set her apart. It was her identity and if there was ever a mop of hair that did justice to the words 'crowning glory', it was hers. She couldn't remember how it had grown to this length. Maybe it were the compliments or just her general apathy of the hairdressers. And so it grew and the attention it got made her feel good. She tended to it with utmost care. She would plait it, tie it into a ponytail or just leave it loose. Anyway she wore it, it turned heads. It boosted her confidence and she loved it when people said 'the girl with the beautiful long hair.' It framed her face and gave her character. 'Don't ever cut your hair' her mom would say lovingly while running her fingers through it. She wasn't vain but she indulged in her hair and she knew she would be devastated if anything were to happen to those perfect locks.
Times change, and people do too but sometimes, disappointingly, out of their own folly. That was two years ago and sadly, it was that very hair she now neglected. Her indifference was deliberate and quite unfounded.
She remembered that evening like it was yesterday. It was her honeymoon. They were at the beach watching the sun go down. The sea was calm and shimmered in that mellow light. The orange silhouettes of fishermen and their dinghies bobbed in the distance. The waves crashed gently on the shore wetting their toes bringing with them tiny shells and yellow sand before receding into the deep blue waters. A warm breeze, the smell of brine, played softly and teased the strands that had come undone from her tousled bun. The rays light up her hair and the light brown traces shone in that soothing light. He looked at her tenderly and brushed the loose strands back into her thick bun. 'How could I say no to such lovely hair and that Hibiscus laughing mockingly at me!' It was a casual comment made in good humor that she should have taken in the right spirit. But something burned in her and she felt dejected. She smiled at him ruefully, saying nothing. She felt he had married her for the wrong reasons. She knew she was wrong. He had married her for her but try as she might, she couldn't shake off that remark made in pure jest.
Years passed and she carried on never letting it hurt him, hurt their marriage for that would be foolish. Those words stayed etched in her mind though. There's more to me than my hair she thought indignantly. She knew he loved her but the human mind is such; quite cynical. It latches on to the negative and distorts the truth. She felt loved but she also felt there was something missing, like an important piece of a nearly complete puzzle, all of her own doing.
And thus began her impassiveness towards her hair. Deliberate at first till it became a habit over the course of time. 'How silly of me!' she would reproach herself but she was beyond reasoning. Her indifference began to show gradually. She stopped coloring her hair or trimming the ends. It started looking unkempt. A carelessly tied scraggly plait with split ends. She soon reached a stage where she almost forgot she had hair. Busy she was, yes, juggling home, work and the kids but if it weren't for that unfortunate comment, she would have still had that beautiful mane. 'Your hair doesn't look as nice now' her friends would say with concern but she was impervious to it all.
It was on one chaotic morning while combing her hair and running to get her kids ready for school that she reasoned she might as well cut it short than leave it to fall apart. A comforting thought but she couldn't muster the courage to do it. She blamed her busy schedule but the truth was she hadn't gone to a salon for as long as she could remember and the thought paralyzed her.
Weeks passed but finally one day she made up her mind and made that appointment. So after work, she made her way to the salon bustling with energetic, immaculate women. All eyes turned on her when she walked in and she shrank under their stares. When it was her turn for a haircut, the hairdresser exclaimed 'Oh what long hair!' She cringed. Am I doing the right thing? She was at crossroads. Maybe I can just trim it and nurse it back to health. A stream of thoughts riddled her mind before being rudely interrupted by the hairdresser's terse question, 'What would you like me to do?' A tense pause. She shot the hairdresser a look of despair and confusion. 'I don't know. Could you just trim the ends?'
'Yes, but your hair is in bad shape. I'll have to take at least 4 inches off if that's ok.'
An unsure nod and the scissors got down to work. Snip, snip snip. Every movement of the hairdresser's fingers moving swiftly through her hair and the sound of the scissors cutting those neglected curls were a rude reminder of her own stupidity, the neglect and she felt her life crumble with every trimming that fell to the floor.
The hairdresser’s face wore a contorted look. 'When was the last time you had it cut? It looks so dry and lifeless.'
'I can't remember. It's been a long time.'
'If I were you, I’d cut it shoulder length. It will be easier to grow it back well....' she said her voice trailing off.
All through she wondered what her husband would say. Would he like her any less? The words 'How could I say no to such lovely hair and that Hibiscus laughing mockingly at me!' resonated in her head. The more she thought of it, more vengeful she felt and bolder she got.
'Yes! Cut it way short.' she ordered.
Snip, snip and more snips. It took a whole hour to trim it down. She closed her eyes not wanting to think of the comments and looks she was going to get. She visualized her husband mortified. Her children, nothing to play with as they sat on her lap while she read to them. Her mother, a look of absolute disbelief. Well, it’s my hair she concluded and tried to curb the myriad of thoughts crowding her mind.
When it was all done, she looked about her; a carpet of jet black trimmings. She felt a catch in her throat and looked in the mirror. She couldn't recognize herself. 'Well, it is what it is. Hopefully it grows back soon.' she thought out aloud. The hairdresser smiled reassuringly.
She got out and started her anxious drive back home.
When she reached home, she stood at her doorsteps, heart pounding. She wasn't sure whether she had liked the haircut herself and felt naked. She stared vacantly at the door and regretted her attitude. If only she had been mature and sensible. ‘I’m worse off now!’ she thought and let out a sob. She jabbed at the doorbell and waited with a pained and resigned look on her face.
She heard the latch go after what felt like an eternity. The door swung open and he stopped short. A disconcerted look crossed his face. He gasped and stared stupefied. It took him a few seconds to gather himself before saying 'You've got rid of your hair!'
She stood incapacitated and scared, her drooping shoulders very suggestive of a hard battle lost. He pulled her close and hugged her tight, 'I can’t believe what you've done to your hair!’
‘Do you like it?’ she asked shakily. He pulled her away and holding her at arms length gave her a long look, ‘I like it!'
'Will you love me just the same?'
His face changed from a puzzled look to one of amusement, 'I will always love you no matter what hon!' She light up like a pin ball machine and smiled. He gave her a searching look and asked 'But whatever made you do that?'
'You don't want to know.' She said sheepishly feeling a wave of relief.
She pulled him closer and felt a sense of peace. Resting her head on his chest she closed her eyes and pictured the missing piece slide effortlessly into that empty spot completing her unfinished puzzle.
The Haircut(Aditi Nadgauda)
It had been 12 years. 12 years since she had had a haircut. She had always prided herself on her hair. After all, it was her long tresses that had got her her husband. Well, that wasn't the only thing. There was her too; a bright, vivacious girl he couldn't have refused. It was an arranged setting. An alliance suggested by her uncle, who knew both the families. Fortunately for everyone, and more so for the girl and the boy, it worked.
They met at her place. She wore a white salwar kurta with a light gold border. Her hair, thick and lustrous, the color of chestnut, cascaded down to her waist in perfect little curls. It was parted to one side and pinned carefully behind her ears where a dainty Hibiscus flower sat tucked in her pretty ringlets rather inconspicuous. They spoke nervously at first but as the evening wore on; they chatted and laughed like old friends. It was an instant connection and talks of an impending wedding soon filled the busy household.
Two years hence and much had changed. Twins within a year and a lucrative job offer had ushered in a better lifestyle although it brought with it copious amount of work at the office, longer commutes, shorter evenings and busier weekends. But in spite of their hectic schedules, they made time for each other and lived a happy family life. Their fondness for each other had only deepened and they loved each other just as much if not more.
While she made every effort to keep the threads of her married life intact, she did, however, neglect herself. She wasn't particularly good looking but it was always her hair that had set her apart. It was her identity and if there was ever a mop of hair that did justice to the words 'crowning glory', it was hers. She couldn't remember how it had grown to this length. Maybe it were the compliments or just her general apathy of the hairdressers. And so it grew and the attention it got made her feel good. She tended to it with utmost care. She would plait it, tie it into a ponytail or just leave it loose. Anyway she wore it, it turned heads. It boosted her confidence and she loved it when people said 'the girl with the beautiful long hair.' It framed her face and gave her character. 'Don't ever cut your hair' her mom would say lovingly while running her fingers through it. She wasn't vain but she indulged in her hair and she knew she would be devastated if anything were to happen to those perfect locks.
Times change, and people do too but sometimes, disappointingly, out of their own folly. That was two years ago and sadly, it was that very hair she now neglected. Her indifference was deliberate and quite unfounded.
She remembered that evening like it was yesterday. It was her honeymoon. They were at the beach watching the sun go down. The sea was calm and shimmered in that mellow light. The orange silhouettes of fishermen and their dinghies bobbed in the distance. The waves crashed gently on the shore wetting their toes bringing with them tiny shells and yellow sand before receding into the deep blue waters. A warm breeze, the smell of brine, played softly and teased the strands that had come undone from her tousled bun. The rays light up her hair and the light brown traces shone in that soothing light. He looked at her tenderly and brushed the loose strands back into her thick bun. 'How could I say no to such lovely hair and that Hibiscus laughing mockingly at me!' It was a casual comment made in good humor that she should have taken in the right spirit. But something burned in her and she felt dejected. She smiled at him ruefully, saying nothing. She felt he had married her for the wrong reasons. She knew she was wrong. He had married her for her but try as she might, she couldn't shake off that remark made in pure jest.
Years passed and she carried on never letting it hurt him, hurt their marriage for that would be foolish. Those words stayed etched in her mind though. There's more to me than my hair she thought indignantly. She knew he loved her but the human mind is such; quite cynical. It latches on to the negative and distorts the truth. She felt loved but she also felt there was something missing, like an important piece of a nearly complete puzzle, all of her own doing.
And thus began her impassiveness towards her hair. Deliberate at first till it became a habit over the course of time. 'How silly of me!' she would reproach herself but she was beyond reasoning. Her indifference began to show gradually. She stopped coloring her hair or trimming the ends. It started looking unkempt. A carelessly tied scraggly plait with split ends. She soon reached a stage where she almost forgot she had hair. Busy she was, yes, juggling home, work and the kids but if it weren't for that unfortunate comment, she would have still had that beautiful mane. 'Your hair doesn't look as nice now' her friends would say with concern but she was impervious to it all.
It was on one chaotic morning while combing her hair and running to get her kids ready for school that she reasoned she might as well cut it short than leave it to fall apart. A comforting thought but she couldn't muster the courage to do it. She blamed her busy schedule but the truth was she hadn't gone to a salon for as long as she could remember and the thought paralyzed her.
Weeks passed but finally one day she made up her mind and made that appointment. So after work, she made her way to the salon bustling with energetic, immaculate women. All eyes turned on her when she walked in and she shrank under their stares. When it was her turn for a haircut, the hairdresser exclaimed 'Oh what long hair!' She cringed. Am I doing the right thing? She was at crossroads. Maybe I can just trim it and nurse it back to health. A stream of thoughts riddled her mind before being rudely interrupted by the hairdresser's terse question, 'What would you like me to do?' A tense pause. She shot the hairdresser a look of despair and confusion. 'I don't know. Could you just trim the ends?'
'Yes, but your hair is in bad shape. I'll have to take at least 4 inches off if that's ok.'
An unsure nod and the scissors got down to work. Snip, snip snip. Every movement of the hairdresser's fingers moving swiftly through her hair and the sound of the scissors cutting those neglected curls were a rude reminder of her own stupidity, the neglect and she felt her life crumble with every trimming that fell to the floor.
The hairdresser’s face wore a contorted look. 'When was the last time you had it cut? It looks so dry and lifeless.'
'I can't remember. It's been a long time.'
'If I were you, I’d cut it shoulder length. It will be easier to grow it back well....' she said her voice trailing off.
All through she wondered what her husband would say. Would he like her any less? The words 'How could I say no to such lovely hair and that Hibiscus laughing mockingly at me!' resonated in her head. The more she thought of it, more vengeful she felt and bolder she got.
'Yes! Cut it way short.' she ordered.
Snip, snip and more snips. It took a whole hour to trim it down. She closed her eyes not wanting to think of the comments and looks she was going to get. She visualized her husband mortified. Her children, nothing to play with as they sat on her lap while she read to them. Her mother, a look of absolute disbelief. Well, it’s my hair she concluded and tried to curb the myriad of thoughts crowding her mind.
When it was all done, she looked about her; a carpet of jet black trimmings. She felt a catch in her throat and looked in the mirror. She couldn't recognize herself. 'Well, it is what it is. Hopefully it grows back soon.' she thought out aloud. The hairdresser smiled reassuringly.
She got out and started her anxious drive back home.
When she reached home, she stood at her doorsteps, heart pounding. She wasn't sure whether she had liked the haircut herself and felt naked. She stared vacantly at the door and regretted her attitude. If only she had been mature and sensible. ‘I’m worse off now!’ she thought and let out a sob. She jabbed at the doorbell and waited with a pained and resigned look on her face.
She heard the latch go after what felt like an eternity. The door swung open and he stopped short. A disconcerted look crossed his face. He gasped and stared stupefied. It took him a few seconds to gather himself before saying 'You've got rid of your hair!'
She stood incapacitated and scared, her drooping shoulders very suggestive of a hard battle lost. He pulled her close and hugged her tight, 'I can’t believe what you've done to your hair!’
‘Do you like it?’ she asked shakily. He pulled her away and holding her at arms length gave her a long look, ‘I like it!'
'Will you love me just the same?'
His face changed from a puzzled look to one of amusement, 'I will always love you no matter what hon!' She light up like a pin ball machine and smiled. He gave her a searching look and asked 'But whatever made you do that?'
'You don't want to know.' She said sheepishly feeling a wave of relief.
She pulled him closer and felt a sense of peace. Resting her head on his chest she closed her eyes and pictured the missing piece slide effortlessly into that empty spot completing her unfinished puzzle.
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