Short hair rocks…this is the message I got from a fellow blogger in a recent bloggers’ meet and I quiet agree to it.

The short hair look wasn’t always a part of me. As a kid my sister and I had long hair. Our annual visits to the salon happened when we visited our maternal grandparents in summers. Nani used to take us to the parlour and get our hair chopped because she could not deal with all the inhabitants in there. Yes…Yes…I mean lice. Speaking of which I should remind you the old jingle that said, ‘jahan mile do sar, juon ko mila naya ghar’ and as kids we really din’t know how to stay away from those heads.

All the chopping and snipping stopped when I went to the senior section i.e 6th grade. It was an all girls’ convent school and we were supposed to tie our hair in neat plates as part of our uniform. For 6 good years my hair weren’t touched. Sometimes they grew so much so that I could just fold my plates into double. Those with thick rimmed glasses made me look like a crazy nerd. A time came when people (read parents’ friends) started assuming that I was the eldest of the three sisters.

One day I just folded my hair to make them look shorter. The very next day my elder sister drove 5 kms on a freezing winter afternoon and took me to a parlor to get my hair shortened. The rest of the incident was pretty much like a scene from Roman Holiday. Remember when Audrey Hepburn asks an astonished barber to chop her long tresses? ‘All Off’, she says and the hair dresser furiously cuts them. Well, my dresser didn’t get that angry but yes, she was pretty amazed. Finally, I chopped my hair from waist length to small blunt and regained my position as the younger sister.

 

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