It’s soothing to see men with long hair, neatly ponied, or let wild, and so on. They carry it well. But, at best, I can manage a MILITARY CUT, that’s me. ALLOW ME TO EXPLAIN. During my childhood, the world around me consisted of 3 kinds of people: men with short hair, women with long hair, and men contemplating a HAIRCUT. This included children of all age groups. While men had short hair, women were EXPECTED to have long hair, and they ended up so. I was a silent rebel, a BOLD INTROVERT in the school, and I remain so to date. The world was unfair to women in those days; some parts of it have changed now. I had phantom-sized questions about the societal boundaries set around me, but they died in the battles within my head. Growing up in the forests of Bhutan nurtured the introvert in me. I was never keen to socialize, it made me anxious. I started my career in a Research function, and life was almost a safe and boring ride for a decade, soothing to the introvert. Soon, I swerved and picked up a human resources career. It was a rollercoaster ride. It drained me. I would come home, lock myself up for a fuel recharge to connect with my own family. I met my husband, and I felt at ease around him. I wasn’t losing myself anymore. Growing up as an Indian among the Bhutanese & Nepalese wasn’t easy. The Indian families in Bhutan were obsessed with their cultural rituals. It was the only way to remain connected to the deep Indian roots. When I hit puberty, my family did a low-key ritual. The WHISPER was too loud, a public shaming in disguise. All I did the following week was to respond to the curiosity of the larger world at school, including the boys. The CAREFREE introverted girl lost her STAY FREE status. I waited for menopause from then. Mostly, girls like having long hair; it’s a fetish. I succumbed. I had long hair reaching to the knees at some point. It meant annoying maintenance schedules – oiling [Champi] rituals, shampooing, conditioners, towel drying, keeping them lice-free, and harnessing them with clips and ribbons. I did all of it as girls around me did it. This changed when I moved to a different school to pursue tenth grade. I saw Senior girls, the Didi’s with a boy-cut, and hair up to shoulders, it felt like freedom. I quickly inserted a new template of women in my head. All I had to do was upgrade my life to match it. Easier said than done. Short hair meant simplicity, less hassle, daily hair showers, time-saver, in short, it felt PEACE. Ironically, people, women included, are trained to identify womanhood with long hair. Thankfully, my hubby had differing views. He opined that women carry short hair well. When he uttered it for the first time, I stood shocked, looked up at the open blue sky in sheer disbelief. I was no longer in doubt; I welcomed him into my boring life with arms wide open. I knew most of the elements of this marriage would work for the entire stretch. I don’t regret any part of our marriage. Well, it was never about short hair. It was about a simple Indian man who could see beyond the rigid structures of society. He hailed from a male-dominated territory where men are served first in any public gathering, including closely held family gatherings. He still managed to be an exception. One can rise from where they started and live exceptionally. It’s all in our heads. I escalated to MILITARY CUT in the year 1997, it wasn’t easy. It is never easy to BE DIFFERENT. I decided to go for a hair makeover right after a few weeks of our marriage. With a heavy heart, the hairstylist ran her sharp scissors across the hair. After all, I had chosen a military cut over long hair running till my knees. My mother-in-law promptly showed her disapproval during her visit to Chennai. My parents wanted me to tell her I had offered it to a temple. I was stubborn, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH had to be said. I recollect looking straight into her eyes and announcing it to be my choice. We never had a second discussion on the topic. Funnily, she went in for a horrifying Nazi cut during her last ...
View On WordPress
