Hair cut dilemma

I am proud to proclaim my newly conceived theory- “Beware, beauticians hate curly hair, they will chop it all off”.

Let me elaborate:

My new job requires me to look my very best. I need to look mature, posh, sophisticated and well dressed when in reality I’m a complete nutcrack, wacky and crazy. Anyway, I can manage to fake maturity. But to look posh and sophisticated is a tad difficult when you have frizzy, restless hair. My hair hardly stays quiet and even after combing and brushing my unruly locks; it gets back to being crazy.

You now might throw me the idea of permanently straightening my hair. The idea is active on my cards but I keep pushing it aside only because it is a wallet rip-off activity. Hair bonding is like threading your eyebrows. Once you start, you cannot afford to stop. The same goes for the hair. Just as much as you cannot walk around with eyebrows growing like jungle grass, neither can you imagine strutting around with a head looking like a used mop.

So taking all these reasons into consideration, I decided to go in for a haircut. Now if you take my case and put in a haircut, it’s a scary proposition. Neither do I have thick locks to chop off nor do I have choices of hairstyles to go for. A fringe is out of the question, thanks to my forehead. Am I complaining? Not really. I’m quite proud of it all. But still, I want to look different.

So here I am in a beauty parlor in Mumbai. You wont believe me, but its Karishma Kapoor sitting across me getting her nails and hair done. Ok, maybe it’s a little hard to recognize her sans makeup, but I’m so sure its her. I try hard not to stare, so I throw casual ‘long’ stares. Yup, it’s her all right. But what is she doing here in a normal middle class parlor?? Who cares, I just saw Karishma Kapoor!!! Tra la la la…!!

Sorry for that small diversion. Back to my hair. Where was I? Ahh yes. So here I am, waiting for my turn. The lady who would eventually make me or break me, enter. I carefully explain, in English, that I wanted a different look but I wanted my hair length maintained. She replies back in Hindi. Uh oh…trouble!! Language barrier can create problems and I knew I was doomed. Nevertheless, I repeated my request (in English!!) and she confirmed saying she’d do what I wanted.

With a small prayer under my breath, she began. She showed me the length of how much she’d cut and I gave the green signal. Snip snip snip went the scissors. My curls and I bid adieu to each other. I had to remove my glasses for obvious reasons. As such, I could not observe the proceedings. I waited, with abated breath, trying to make something out of the blurred vision of my hair in the mirror in front of me. Snip snip it went. Soon it was the blowdryer unfrizzying out my locks. I love getting my hair blowdried. It keeps my hair looking neat. The lady put her finishing touches to my last strand of hair. I quickly grab my glasses and put it on with all anticipation and eagerness. I look at the mirror and “AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH…”

The scissor-wielding lady chopped most of my hair and left just one strand of hair the length it was in the beginning. All in the name of a ‘Step Cut’ and wanting to satisfy the customer’s wants. Now my hair hardly stays put. I can’t tie a ponytail due to the simple fact that there is not much hair for a ponytail, neither can I leave it ‘down’ because there is nothing to let down and if I do, it resembles Einstein’s rocking hair-do.

There go my attempts at looking posh and sophisticated. With how I look now, I doubt getting married soon. My next step might be to get a complete makeover. Gulp…another risky mind numbing proposition!!