A Ha(i)rassment Plea

A letter from a disgruntled me to my frustratingly unmanageable curly hair…..

Dear moody (mudi is Malayalam for hair and pun definitely intended),

I am writing this letter to vent all my frustrations and the troubles I’ve had throughout my life thanks to you. Believe me when I say you’ve not been an easy person to live with. Everyday I wake up looking like my head has survived a mini-hurricane and the hours that I spend later, trying to untangle you, qualify me for my very own Nobel Prize for Patience.

Curly hair on TV- Perfect ringlets that fall around a girl’s shoulder.

My hair- A bush of hair that turns into a ball of frizz the moment it dries up.

I wonder what I’ve done to make you trouble me in this way. I brush you, shampoo you, condition you (God bless the inventor of conditioner) and pretty much do everything to keep you happy. Inspite of all this you put me through trials and everything is a struggle when it comes to you.

On the days I finally get you to behave, that is, the day you fall in perfect ringlets (More like springs with varying spring constants in my case) I’ll probably be stuck at home having nowhere to go and be jobless pretty much. But on the days that it really matters, say I have a party or some big event in college; you automatically frizz up and become stubbornly unmanageable.

Girls talk about bad hair days. Thanks to you a good hair day is a rarity in my case. A messy bun is my only savior most of the days.

You don’t even want me to get started with the stupid names I have to put up with (I have a bunch of smart-ass friends and very very supportive parents). A person who gets compared to A.R.Rahman for his/her musical prowess would be honoured to be even put on the same pedestal as the maestro. But I get compared to the great A.R.Rahman because my hair resembles his (Yayy for me).

I get bored with their lack of originality when people call me ‘chidiya ka ghosla’, jungle, noodles and make jokes about things getting lost inside the monstrosity that is you and a possible scavenger hunt that would unearth the various things that have been lost during the 20 years of my existence, thanks to you and your scheming.

But the funniest thing I have to face is this conspiracy theory my friends have, they believe that I’m actually an African  who was found and adopted by my noble father who took pity on me while on his business trip to Africa .The fact that my mum, dad and sister have lovely straight hair doesn’t help my case. And apparently having two grandmothers both of whom have curly hair doesn’t count either.

There is no way that you could be a non-living entity with the deliberate way in which you trouble me. Infact I think a part of my soul has somehow gotten dislodged and come settled down in you (This theory of mine is inspired by horcruxes à la Harry Potter). Your inability to stay in a place and your extreme stubbornness are scarily similar to my own personal traits. That is the reason I decided to pen this letter, praying that I haven’t crossed the thin line that was keeping me from being a certified lunatic .The odds that you are going to change, are very low. Still you can’t blame a girl for trying.

I’d love to end this letter by saying that I hope that you fall out or turn completely grey. But unfortunately I don’t plan on turning bald or grey for the next 30 years atleast. So I’m going to end this letter by hoping that in your next life you are reborn as a girl and you get hair that’s even worse than you…

Ciao,

Your frustrated owner who wishes she could make you suffer strand by strand,

Sruti