Hair, Let Me Jump to Conclusions

Sometime last year, I decided to chop off my hair. Not completely, but I started wearing it much shorter. It was summer in Pune, and this once mild Maharashtrian city now experiences crazy heat (it is already upwards of 41 degrees even though it is only the first week of April). I figured a shorter hairstyle would be easier to manage in the heat, quicker to style, and would also give me a new look. Nothing like a change in hairstyle to get an instant makeover, you know? Plus, if I wanted to sport shorter hair, surely I could, considering it was MY hair. I wasn’t hurting anyone, not even my hair follicles.

Turns out, a LOT of people are very interested in the length of hair a woman decides to keep.

A cousin from Kolkata with lustrous black hair that never seems to be out of place enquired:

“You were experiencing major hair loss, no? I always knew the kind of stress you live in was bad for your hair.”

She emptied a bottle of hair oil as she reprimanded me and proceeded to massage her roots.

A neighbour who lives a few blocks away asked me with considerable concern:

“But how will you wear a sari at the wedding in your family next week? Or are you planning to wear jeans and a top?”

My granny told me later: the neighbour hadn’t been invited to the wedding. What a smart manoeuvre! Also, what amazing foresight: I never knew you needed long hair to wear a saree; does the pallu go around your thick strands of hair or what?

A colleague at work smirked:

“So, is this your new powerful-woman-at-work look? Are you planning to crow over all of us now? Have you also renovated your wardrobe and thrown away all your Indian clothes?”

I threw a cushion at him as a demonstration of my newfound power; for a week at a stretch, I wore only western formals.

Long hair, I am told, goes hand in hand with all the “desirable” qualities in a woman: beauty, tradition, fertility. It tells a potential mate that here is a woman who understands how to maintain herself and hence can nourish a baby and an entire household. It is also much more becoming, what with long hair being your crowning glory and all that. Women with short hair either struggle with hair disorders, dandruff, lice (!), or are simply too self-obsessed and “Western”.

All through school and college, I had long hair that reached up to my waist. There would be generous oiling rituals and photo sessions. My Mom had long hair too; after her chemotherapy, when her hair eventually returned, she sported a boy-cut that went fabulously with her youthful face. People on the street thought she was a reporter; she was given special attention at restaurants where the servers thought she was a food-review person (no kidding!). I loved her when she had super-long hair that she wore in braids; I loved her when she had short hair that she kept neat with slides. Never did the length of hair change any of my perceptions about who she was as a person.

So, today, when I meet people who exclaim about “what happened to your long hair” or “why did you chop off your beautiful hair”, I make snide comments about how the backs of their necks are all sweaty and how my new style radiates the new person that I am. If you want to jump to conclusions, then, hair, let me make it easier for you.

*             *             *

I am taking up the April #AtoZChallenge 2019 and will post every day of the month, except Sundays. I look forward to your company!

Click to read my other posts for the A to Z Challenge 2019.

Find out more about the #AtoZChallenge 2019 by clicking the badge below:

Advertisement