Noodles waves & brooms
Charcoal coffee & gold
Silky oily & rough
Ponytail, braid & bun
This is how the girls like me nickname them
Out of love
Love that smiles
looking at Juhi Chawla in Kesh king
and Vidya Balan in Nihar Naturals.
Dreaming the same lengthy shiny tresses one day,
each night I wet my scalp with oils
until some drops glide on my forehead.
Saving egg and onion from my omelette,
I apply them to my head
Ignoring the bone-breaking cold
I shampoo my hairs for hours
with the little hope that the prop roots of my banyan tree will strengthen my beauty
But the coiled strands in my comb,
glued strands on my chair,
scattering strands on the floor,
and hanging strands on my tee
sings the saga of betrayal,
betrayal of my hairs that is hard for me to accept
Maa blames my fast food for this
Papa says your stress is the real culprit
and Bhai mocks me telling to cut my hairs short
Relatives who had seen the past richness of my flora sympathises me now
and my dear friends embrace me with the same pinch
Travelling the road from the boys’ barbershop
to high priced ladies parlour,
my hairs have raised their worth
The worth that jumps in anger
when someone defines them as mere strings of keratin
The worth that jumps in laughter
when I cry for them & pray for their development…
©ruchiabhisikta