I woke up thinking it was a bad dream. A scary nightmare really. As I sat up on my bed, my hands naturally went through my tresses as a habit, to roll them into a careless morning bun and get going with my day's chores. It usually took me 3 turns of my hair and no clips or bands to make a bun in less than 30 seconds. But today was different; painfully, hurtfully different. As I ran my hands through them and tried to make a bun, the length suddenly fell short. That is the moment when reality hit me harder than before.
It wasn't a bad dream. It was a living nightmare that had transcended even into my days.
Back during my 8th std. I went to a beauty parlor/ salon for the first time with my elder sister. As she went about with her rituals, we discussed and thought of trimming my hair by half an inch to make it even at the lengths. I was scared as I hadn't asked papa but didi was confident he wouldn't even notice. So, for the first time ever, I trimmed my hair by half an inch or less. That day, I heard my Papa's anger in his silence for the first time. He did not speak to me or see my face for a week. Later I got to know that my mom had long tresses and my Papa saw them in me and so was hurt when I tried to even trim them.
Fast forward 1998, I was returning home in a train with my brother. I had recently undergone my appendicitis surgery and used to take pain relieving medication at bed time which caused a deeper sleep than normal. After having a quick dinner with my brother, I took my medicine and went to sleep on the side upper berth.
As I woke up the next morning, and ran my hands into my hair to make my regular bun, I couldn't even hold my hair. Someone had cut my entire braid (I had hair below my waistline). My hair was shoulder length now. I remember crying and wailing at the top of my voice for losing my hair to such a strange experience. Despite whatever my brother and others thought, I knew the truth and was in deep pain for a very long time.
Over the years, I cared for my hair, flaunted some short hairstyles as they grew and worked on them to grow them back to their original length and beyond.
I have always loved my hair like myself. I have talked to them, cared for them, and even fought for them. Over the last few decades, they kind of became an integral part of my entity, my USP. Everyone I would meet around the world, would praise them and ask me for hair growth and hair care tips.
And as my plans to make my hair healthier and longer continued, a sudden jerk woke me up to the reality of 'nothing stays forever'.
Not having time to step out, I booked a hair professional to come home and trim my hair lengths to make them even. I have been doing this every couple of months to remove the pigtail dead hair from the lengths. But this time, universe had other plans.
Despite re-scheduling the booking 2 times to get the same professional like earlier, I was surprised to see a new person standing in front of me at 11 am on 20th June, 2022.
I carefully explained to him what I wanted and showed him exactly how much it need to be cut... around 1.5 inches. I told him at least 5 times that I don't want the length to be shortened, whatsoever. Even if it doesn't look good.
He nodded in affirmation. And started on, with sectioning my hair. I am so possessive about them that I combed de-tangled them myself to avoid the professional pulling on them.
As he sectioned, I asked him again, looking at where he placed the clip on the lengths, "are you going to cut till here? I don't want that". He said, "no no, I will only cut as much as you have shown me".
I trusted, I allowed him to touch my precious hair. I trusted him to understand my need to keep the length.
Alas, God only knows what he had in his mind. As he finished and I went to see the trim in my mirror, bringing my hair to the front, I stood there in shock. I hadn't seen my hair so short in more than a decade now.
I went to him, angry, hurt and confused, still in shock with what he had done. To my surprise he kept saying he cut exactly how much I told him. I tried, but the ability of argument is something I am incapable of. I simply told him to leave my house.
At that moment, I vividly remember a flash of the scene 'why did you cut my hair so short' running through my subconscious mind, when I first saw this curly hair guy Paul. I saw it in a BLINK and I ignored it in a BLINK. That was my crime.
I have been devastated since then. I felt everything shattering in front of me. I could feel my heart sinking and my tears have known no end. The last I had these level of breakdowns was when I went through depression in 2016.
For the loving family I am blessed with, they did their best to make me feel myself without my identity, my long hair. I could smile again and even try a new hairstyle which I haven't ever. Yet something remained blank within.
Being so used to feel my hair below my waistline at the back, I feel something is missing in me all the time. And as I woke up today, this reality has hit me one more time, harder than earlier.
It is going to be a long and painful journey to get my hair back to where I want it. While I will continue to feel the absence, I choose to look for the sunshine in this dark experience.
Not sure how many of you will relate to this, but this mattered to me and my loved ones, A LOT. And I will go through this too, as instructed by the universe. I promise I will bring back to you my introspection and reflection of the good in this experience.
Till then, judge me for all you want. But I am silently mourning this loss.
