1975 - IX std.
I looked into the mirror and what I saw there
Brought not a smile to my lips but a tear to my eyes
My hair black was limp and listless, drained of life
The ends malnourished were quickly dying.
1978- In college
I looked into the mirror and what I saw there
Brought a smile to my lips, a bounce to my steps
Hair thick and flowing, the connoisseur of all eyes
Ends curled up beautifully added to my beauty.
2002 – a career woman in her early 40s
I looked into the mirror and what I saw there
Brought not a smile to my lips but a crease to my forehead
Hair thick and flowing showed signs of deterioration
Ends cracking and breaking looked ugly, impaired.
2014- a woman in her early 50s
Today I looked into the mirror and what I saw there
Brought not a smile to my lips but tears to my eyes
Hair long yet thinning was dull and listless
Crying for mercy, begging for care.
Well
in short this is the story of my hair. As a child I had long, jet black hair
albeit thin yet curly and lovely. However by the time I reached the IX
standard, I was diagnosed for a serious illness, an illness that drained my
body of vital nutrients and also forced me to take strong drugs to keep my
kidneys working. My hair took a beating. As days passed by the curls were gone,
the tresses were malnourished and begged for food. But I was helpless. They
protested, split and started falling off. The protest grew as the days went by
till mother was forced to cut them short. That day I cried. I wondered what my
friends at school would say. Would they who had always envied my long plaits,
make fun of me or offer their sympathies? Either way it was more than I could
bear. Luckily for me, no one made such a thing as even a fleeting comment.
Then
in 1976 I joined college in Kerala. I was placed under the care of my grandmother
(Dad’s mother). Roles reversed I started envying the long, luxurious tresses of
my cousins, relatives and friends. I yearned for hair as beautiful and vibrant
as theirs. Luckily for me my grandmother took my tresses in hand and decided to
nourish them and make them strong, long and beautiful. Each day she would oil
them before I took bath. The evenings would find her caressing my hair,
removing all the knots patiently taking care not to damage them. The hair tied
in a big knot on the top of the head would stay there the whole night only to
be opened the next morning.
Sunday
was set apart for some extra care. Each Saturday grandma made it a point to go to
the fields, pick up some wild
mussenda leaves and boil them. Sunday morning saw my head, my tresses
dripping with oil for half an hour. Then the ritual of squeezing the juice from
the leaves would start. Grandma insisted that the leaves be squeezed gently. No
way to hurry the process. Her oft repeated quote was,”Vellila piriyanam
engil oru archa pattini kidakennam” literally meaning to squeeze the juice
from the mussenda leaves one must go without food for at least a week. In short,
what she meant was that the leaves should be squeezed with really light fingers.
The juice worked as a shampoo cum conditioner. At the same time it provided vital
nutrients to the hair and scalp. My hair started growing long and thick. The
tresses became healthy imparting a new look, new glow not only to my crown but
to my face as well. Finally before the year was gone the thickness, length and
quality of my tresses surpassed those of my cousins, relatives (except of
course that of one of my aunts whose tresses flowed well below her knees) and
friends. The envious became the envied. The tresses imparted an added
confidence. I slowly came out of my shell. I often heard my classmates sing these
lines of a song from the famous Malayalam film ‘Salini ente kootukari, ‘whenever
I entered the class-
“Nin
thumbu kettiyitta churul mudiyil
Thulasi
thalirila choodee”
(Your
curly hair with a knot tied at the end and tender basil leaves adorning them)
At first
I was taken aback, wondering whether they were making fun of me but then
realized it was pure admiration. The very knowledge was pleasing.
Even
after passing out from college and starting a career I found many a head turn
around admiring my tresses. I remember
my first day in my in- laws place. Ours was an arranged marriage and we met
only once before marriage i.e. when he came to see me. An aunt of his told me
that on his returning from meeting me the first time, everyone was eager to
know how I looked. The only thing he remarked was, “She has really long and
thick hair.” It seems he instantly fell for my tresses.
In
the initial years of my career I took good care to maintain my hair. Yet as
time passed by and I bore a child time seemed too short. Twenty four hours a
day was insufficient for both office and home. The frequent shift of dwelling and
consequent change of water from well to bore to tap and vice- versa on account
of frequent transfers, took a toll on my hair. My hair started to fall as never
before, ends split. They grew back fast but by the time I reached my mid- forties
I realized that the growth rate was coming down. Even the frequent trimming
could not arrest the split end phenomena.
I slowly started to realize that
age was catching up on me and my pride possession, my tresses. Now that does
have a sobering effect.
Today
I am in my early fifties I still have long hair, longer than most of my
cousins, relatives and friends in the same age group yet, I cannot help musing
on the lost glory my long, luxurious, curly hair. I miss those envious looks,
that added confidence those tresses imparted. Today even a short trip out in
the sun, the wind has disastrous effects on my hair. They easily entangle and
are difficult to dis-entangle meaning more loss of that one thing that is any woman
dreams of – beautiful hair. Remember what Oliver Herford said, “A hair in the
head is worth two in the brush.” I’d do anything to keep that one hair intact.
How
I wish I could once again recharge my hair, impart to them that vibrant silky
soft texture that had once been theirs. How I wish I could once again get back
my crowning glory and with it my confidence, confidence that a lovely hair that
stays as it is required to stay, imparts. Aah! I long for those wonderful days when my
hair would make heads turn. That reminds
me of an incident that took place when I was taking my daughter and little niece
of four, shopping. It was in the early nineties. Two little children sitting on the compound wall
of a house happened to remark thus as we passed them, “Hai! Look what lovely
hair.” I smiled but my niece did not like it. She felt they were looking with
an evil eye at my tresses. She worried for the fate of my hair.
Martin
Luther rightly said, “The hair is the richest ornament of women.” Compare a
beautiful face with long tresses as the sole ornament and another with limp,
thin, balding hair sporting diamonds and rubies. Who wins? The first I am sure. I'd like to once again be that first one.
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This post is written for Sunsilk recharge you hair, recharge your life contest on Indiblogger
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