I am a disco dancer. Jindagi mera gana main usi ka diwana” this was my favourite song in my childhood. I wanted to become a film star and Mithun chakraborti was my ideal. I used to follow his dance moves and clothing. But there was a small problem. My father always used to come with me for a haircut. And he used to ask the barber to cut them small. And before they could grow to barely medium size, he used to take me again to the barber.
Then one day I went to my mom and said “mom, I am leaving home”
Mother got afraid and asked “why?”
“Father always comes with me for a haircut.”
There was an intense discussion at the dinner table. Mother and father fought to the best of their abilities. Mother was sobbing, she packed her clothes in a silver coloured aristocrat suitcase. And said “I am going to my mother’s place. Son, you can either come with me or go wherever you want.” And as usual father had to agree to our demand of freedom of getting a haircut done alone.
Next sunday, I went to the hairdresser and got a mithun da style haircut. He charged me double but cut hairs only between my ears and eyes.
I was very proud of myself and came home in style. Dancing “I am a disco dancer …”.
My elder brother saw me, asked about the price and I told him the truth. Afterall we were siblings. He pulled me through my hair, and dragged me to the floor. “Mama, he has wasted money somewhere else and come back without cutting hairs.”
Mother and father took his side. And as a result I wasn’t allowed the feat another time
Long after that I met an alcoholic friend who said that he drank because he had unfulfilled desires. I also wanted to justify my drinking, I searched my life for unfulfilled desires. This one came handy.
I forgot to tell you that I was a married man by then. My wife objected to my drinking. Being a caring husband I opened my heart to her. She pulled her hair and screamed “where did I get this unique piece”. I closed my eyes- thinking she would also pull my hair and drag me to the floor. Nothing happened for a long time. I opened my eyes only to see her doing anulom vilom to calm her down. “You better keep long hairs” she said lovingly. I had no choice but to leave alcohol. My hair grew, grew and grew. I started looking like a human from mohan jodaro. Neihter she nor my son liked it.
One fine morning she came to me. Her manners were nicer than the morning breeze. In a voice softer than cuckoo. She said ”darling , we are going to be very rich soon”. I couldn't believe my luck and asked how.“ You have got a patch on your head. You are turning bald,”
I looked in the mirror. There was one. She said it's because of lice. If you keep long hairs, all your crop will go piece by piece.
I was back at the barber place, who looked at the patch carefully and told me “Sir this is not lice, someone has played with you and cut it with a scissor. If this would happen in our village a war would have followed”.
Well I did anulom vilom in the barber's chair and got myself a clean slate.
All characters in this story are fictional.
