Hair Tales
Let me tell you the story of curly-haired girls before it was fashionable. I am naturally curly and have never straightened my hair even once. As a child, I have been called many names for having this wild hair — Bhadrakaali, Parachi, Aadivasi et al (These are some caste-based slurs in my mother tongue). All these insults were not from strangers, but from within the family. It is one of the reasons why I still have to struggle with self-confidence. Everything starts at home.
I didn’t have any qualms with my hair though. I took care of it whenever I felt like it and completely ignored it whenever I was not in the mood. During stressful times in school, I even had bald spots in my head. But fortunately, every time it regrew without much pampering. My hair has the same personality as mine - a bit wild and not requiring any external support to thrive. When somebody suggested getting it straightened, I became very much protective of my hair. In a way, hair is a big part of my personality. I would always be known for my noodlehead.
At home, I was never supposed to leave my hair open. Wild hair seemed to threaten patriarchy innocently. Society wanted us to conform to the idea of "well-groomed and well-mannered" women. This was not possible with a wild hair that behaved like it has a mind of its own. It made me embrace the wild side of me. Also, let's admit that it is a herculean task to untangle it. So leaving it as it is much easier. Some days I think that half of my rebellious mindset is just because of my hair. If I was not constantly taunted about my hair, I would have turned out normal and obliged to the whim of everyone in the family. Somehow it worked out well for me. I feel that everyone fears that we will realize our inner strength if we are allowed to live life on our own terms.
Things started changing around 2016 and there was a movement of curly-haired people on the Internet. I knew that my hair looked gorgeous when it is wet, but never thought there is a way to preserve the curls in that form. After many hits and trials, I was able to retain my gorgeous and shiny curls for days. This was life-changing in a way. Around that time I moved to Shanghai for work. With my wild hair and brown skin, I was an exotic species there. People wanted to touch my hair to see if it's real. It was another level of madness. But I thoroughly enjoyed it. For the first time in my life, I had the confidence to leave my hair open. I got tons of compliments instead of the ridicule I used to receive in India. And in the Indian community, I remained Maggi noodles.
There were also days when I felt that I attached too much importance to my hair. In the aftermath of the pandemic, when taking a bath itself seemed to be such a chore, styling curly hair lost its charm. Now it is just my hair and I do not care how it looks. If it looks great without much effort, I am happy. If it doesn't, I am not sad either. Although it is yet to be seen how will I embrace my hair if I am asked to step out of home regularly. Right now, it is just a bun and off I go. When the vanity of having such a hair leaves me, I would like to have my head shaved off completely. Though I am not sure if I am there yet. And the hair tales will continue for now.
