Hair through the Ages

I've had awesome hair. Always. Thick to the point of being unable to find suitable hair pins for it or breaking my hairdresser's flimsy brush. It isn't what one would call glossy or shiny or anything out of a movie magazine but it is definitely something to die for.

I wore my hair really short for most of my childhood. Crew cut to be precise. The longest length was what was then called the Rasna-baby-cut, popularised by the kid in the advertisement for Rasna. That came to be later known as the mushroom cut and I wore my hair in a mushroom (hehe) till I moved bag and baggage to the then Garden City.

My mum, then the sole proprietor of my hair, decided it was time that I grew it. In all the years prior to this one, I had cherished the desire to do so but the moment my mum conceded, this desire like the desire to learn to play tennis and swim, evaporated into thin air. Unfortunately that did not matter and my hair grew to annoyingly long lengths. What did assuage the hurt ego were the compliments showered each time someone saw my plait. My 8 year old cousin, who we shall call D for all future reference, still carries about a photo of mine in which I have the long hair and in my opinion look a closer relative of the broom fliers than D's but he thinks that it's the prettiest I've ever looked. Amen.

Then came further education and with it the trials of long hair. The hair grew shorter and shorter with each semester in the hallowed halls and wings and corridors. Graduation brought liberation in every sense of the word. My then hairdresser, (Rajesh, if you ever read this, I do mean you), may he have a 1000 children for simply turning to me one day and saying, "you look like my grandmother with the long hair, I'm taking it all off." Then came the shorter U-cuts and numerous changes in hairdressers because they wouldn't keep the hair longer, much to my mum's chagrin. Bless them all.

It's true, money corrupts. Earlier, my mum had to sponsor my haircuts, now Sabre very generously did and the hair grew shorter and shorter. This drew inevitable comparisons to my mum who wears her hair short now. If you thought my long hair was pretty, you should've seen my mum's. Absolutely outta this world stunning. I hold the comparisons in much distaste though, not sure why.

Recently, I had a super fabulous haircut before attending a friend's wedding in February. The hair's not been the same since. I've never had to worry about my hair, despite all my education and what not but the present state of affairs is a cause for serious concern. Things came to a boiling point last Friday and in alarm I went to a hairdresser of yore who chopped it off into a cross between a mushroom and a crew. I never liked this hairdresser earlier but I just might change my mind. She's definitely easier on the wallet. I look like a sheepdog at times but I love it. Full circle perhaps.