Haircutphobia
The Dandruff Dilemma
Anu’s long, thick hair, almost reaching her waist, had become a source of constant frustration. Lately, she’d been battling a persistent dandruff problem, and despite the doctor’s advice to wash her hair daily, it was proving to be a huge challenge. “Itna time lagta hai, aur itne baal girte hain,” she muttered, staring at the clumps of hair clogging the drain. “Itne lambe baal, roz roz dhona bhi mushkil hai.”
Her mother, Chitra, was visibly concerned. “Yeh dandruff toh hadd se zyada badh gaya hai,” she fretted, discussing the issue with Anu’s father, Rajesh. “Aur itne lambe baal, roz roz dhona bhi mushkil hai.”
One afternoon, Chitra announced, “Anu, hum salon jaa rahe hain. Tere baal trim karwane hain.” Anu’s heart sank. “Trim? Maa, mere baal toh itne lambe hain! Please, nahi,” she pleaded.
“Bas thode se inches, beta,” Chitra reassured her, but Anu knew something was amiss.
At the salon, a stern-looking male stylist, Ramesh, examined Anu’s hair. “Itne lambe baalon mein toh dandruff hoga hi,” he declared. “Short cut karwa lo, bahut aaram rahega.” Anu, feeling trapped under the heavy salon cape, remained silent. Chitra, sensing the tension, called Rajesh. “Rajesh ji, zara aa jaaiye, stylist kuch aur hi keh rahe hain.”
Rajesh arrived, and Ramesh demonstrated various short styles, holding sections of Anu’s hair against her face. “Dekhiye, madam, shoulder-length bob kitna accha lagega,” he said. After a brief discussion, Rajesh declared, “Theek hai, pehle 6 inch kaat do. Aur chote karne hain toh baad mein dekhenge.”
Ramesh picked up his scissors. He grabbed a large section of Anu’s hair, and with a sharp schhnnk, the first six inches were gone. He continued section by section, each cut a stark reminder of what she was losing. When he finished, he gathered the cut hair, a thick, dark bundle, and placed it in her lap. “Yeh dekho, Anu, kitne baal kate hain,” he said, a hint of cruelty in his voice. Tears streamed down Anu’s face. “Main kaise dikhungi chhote baalon mein? Life mein kabhi short haircut nahi karwaya. Blanket ki tarah lambe baal khol ke rakhti thi, ab kis se cover karungi khudko?” she thought, her mind reeling.
Priya’s Transformation
Suddenly, a man, Suresh, and his young daughter, Priya, entered the salon. Priya, around fourteen, had waist-length braids and was sobbing. Her father, Suresh, explained, “Iske baalon mein bohot dandruff ho gaya hai. Doctor ne bola roz hair wash karo, par time nahi milta. Isliye mundan karwa rahe hain. Bilkul takli kar do.”
Ramesh began undoing Priya’s braids, revealing her thick, wavy hair. He then took his scissors and began chopping off large sections of her hair, the sound of the sharp blades echoing through the salon. Priya’s tears flowed freely as her long hair fell to the floor, forming a dark pile around her chair. “Itni jaldi kat bhi gaye ” Suresh muttered, surprised.
Once the bulk of her hair was gone, Ramesh reached for the ustra. He applied shaving cream to Priya’s head, then carefully began shaving her scalp, the blade gliding smoothly over her skin. Priya squeezed her eyes shut, her body trembling. “Garmi mein takleef nahi hogi, aur dandruff bhi khatam ho jayega. Chhoti hai, baal toh phir se aa jayenge,” Suresh reassured her. “Bilkul saaf kar dena, ek bhi baal na bache.”
The Decisive Conversation
Rajesh, intrigued, started a conversation with Suresh. “Aapne ek ladki ko takla kar diya?” he asked. “Kyun?“
Suresh explained, “Bohot dandruff ho gaya tha iske baalon mein. Roz hair wash karna mushkil ho raha tha, school bhi bhejna hota hai. Relatives ne bola ke jadd se problem khatam karo, toh bas… yeh faisla lena pada.”
Rajesh nodded. “Haan, long hair maintain karna mushkil hota hai. Bohot time lagta hai, aur garmi mein aur bhi takleef hoti hai.”
Suresh agreed. “Wahi toh. Garmiyon mein waise bhi paseena aata hai, scalp ganda hota hai. Chhoti hai abhi, baal waapis aa jayenge. Kam se kam ab koi problem nahi hogi, na dandruff, na chip-chip.”
As Priya’s head shave was completed, Rajesh was impressed. “Wah, bilkul saaf ho gaya,” he exclaimed. “Anu ka bhi mundan karwa dete hain.” Chitra hesitated, but Ramesh chimed in, “Madam, aapki beti ka head shape toh perfect hai. Mundan ke baad aur bhi sundar lagenge. Bilkul ganji ho jayegi, lekin bahut pyari lagegi. Aapko ye look pasand aa bhi sakta hai! Bahut log ek baar karwa ke fir roz rakhte hai, itna acha lagta hai. Baal bhi jaldi nahi badhenge, toh baar baar sochna bhi nahi padega.”
Anu was horrified. “Nahi! Papa, please!” she cried. Rajesh reassured her, “Beta, tumhare bhale ke liye kar rahe hain. Baal toh waapis aa jayenge. Aur dandruff bhi khatam ho jayega. Aur dekho, kitne fayde hain:
- Garmi kam lagegi: “Garmi mein kitna paseena aata hai, ab aaram rahega.”
- Time bachega: “Roz baal dhone, sukhane ka jhanjhat khatam.”
- Paise bachenge: “Na shampoo, na tel, na salon ke chakkar.”
- Focus on studies: “Padhai pe dhyan de paogi. 10th class chal rahi hai, 11th aur tough hone wali hai. Padhai pe focus karne ka ye best time hai.”
- Healthy baal: “Naye baal healthy ugne lagenge. Ek fresh start milega, bilkul naye acche baal ugne ka chance.”
- No boyfriend risk: “Koi boyfriend ka jhanjhat nahi.”
- Water saving: “Paani bhi bachega.”
- It’s just hair: “Baal hi toh hain, waapis aa jayenge.”
“Bilkul chote baal ho jayenge, lekin healthy baal ugne lagenge.”
Mother: “Par itna extreme…”
Father: “Extreme kya hai? Baal hai, waapis aa jayenge. Abhi umar chhoti hai, kar sakti hai. Waise bhi, garmi kitni padti hai, paseena aata hai, chip-chip lagta hai. Poora summer bina kisi takleef ke nikal jaayega.”
The barber nods enthusiastically. “Bilkul, sir! Garmi me beemariyan bhi hoti hain, infection hone ka chance bhi rehta hai. Mundan se sab kuch clean aur fresh ho jayega.”
Anu sat frozen, unable to believe what she’s hearing.
Father: “Aur socho, kitna aasaan hoga! Subah uthna, nahaana, ready hona—sab kuch minutes mein ho jayega. Kitna time bachega!”
Anu’s mother is still unsure. “Par society… log kya kahenge?”
Father: “Arre, koi kuch nahi kahega! Sab kahenge ki kitna acha kiya, aur waise bhi, sabse bada reason—dandruff. Ek hi din mein bilkul khatam!”
The conversation feels like it’s slipping out of Anu’s control. The realization sets in—she might actually be next.
The Short Haircut
As her parents and the barber stepped away for a private discussion, Anu sat motionless under the cape, her heart pounding. She couldn’t hear their words, but she saw them speaking in hushed tones, her mother nodding at times while her father gestured. The barber listened, occasionally adding his input.
Minutes felt like hours. Her fingers clenched under the cape as they finally turned back toward her. Her mother stepped forward, her expression firm but calm.
Mother: “Humne decide kiya hai—abhi ke liye short bob katwa dete hain. Agar dandruff wapas aaya ya padhai pe dhyaan nahi diya, toh mundan karwana padega.”
Relief washed over Anu. The weight of complete baldness lifted off her shoulders, making the thought of a bob seem almost…manageable. After the horror of what could have been, a short haircut suddenly didn’t feel as terrifying.
The barber wasted no time. He stepped forward, gathering his tools, and started sectioning her hair efficiently. He separated two front sections and two back sections, clipping them neatly. Then, he focused on the middle back section first.
Taking a thick chunk of hair, he sprayed it with water, ensuring it’s damp and manageable. The cold mist sent a shiver down her spine as he smoothed the strands down with a comb. Her long hair, once reaching past her mid-back, now hung limply, moments away from being shortened drastically.
The barber lifted his scissors, placing them just below where the back of her neck ends. With a serious look, he turned to her parents for confirmation.
Barber: “Itne chhote kar du?”
Her mother stepped forward, placing her hand high up on her nape.
Mother: “Itne chhote kam se kam.”
The barber observed her hand, then smirked slightly. He lifted the scissors even higher, almost in line with the middle of her ear, a drastic shift from where he first intended to cut.
Barber: “Fir toh itne chhote kar deta hoon. Baal upar upar hi rahenge, kahin chipkenge nahi, koi tension nahi.”
Her parents exchanged a glance and nodded in approval.
Anu’s breath caught as she heard the first loud schhnnk! The scissors sliced through the thick section of hair in one firm motion. The severed strands tumbled down, landing on the cape and then sliding to the floor. Another schhnnk! and another. The back of her hair was gone.
There was no turning back now.
Anu’s Mind
As Anu sat there, the initial relief of avoiding a complete head shave quickly turned into something far worse—something soul-crushing.
She couldn’t see what was happening behind her, but she could feel it. The harsh schhnnk schhnnk of the scissors slicing through thick chunks of her hair was unbearable. She tried to imagine it wasn’t real, but the weight of the falling strands told her otherwise.
And then, the barber did something deliberate—something cruel.
After cutting through one thick section, he casually dropped it right into her lap.
A whole foot-long, jet-black chunk of her hair sat against the stark white cape. Thick, heavy, and so obviously hers. She stared at it, her vision blurring with the tears that had been threatening to spill over. Her chest tightened, and before she knew it, the tears started falling.
She knew this was happening. She had agreed. But watching it—feeling it—was something else entirely.
“Main kaisi dikhungi chhote baalon mein?” The question echoed in her mind like a scream. She had never in her life cut her hair short. Her long, flowing hair was her comfort, her blanket. Now, it was gone. And soon, even more of it would be taken away.
She tried to distract herself, to latch onto something—anything.
“Sexy new haircut toh hoga na? Fresh bob feels… insta story dalungi, ‘my short era.’ Saddie turns to baddie vibes… haan, maybe yeh sahi lagne lage.”
But before she could convince herself, the barber reached forward and unclipped her left section.
He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even give her a second to process.
He placed the scissors just below her earlobe—so high up, so devastatingly short—and snipped.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The thick, long section slid down the cape in slow motion. Her scalp felt so light, too light. She turned her head slightly, catching her reflection in the mirror.
And her heart dropped.
It didn’t look like her. The girl staring back wasn’t her. The long, silky locks that framed her face, that defined her—were gone. She had never seen herself like this before. The blunt, jagged edges of the freshly cut bob looked foreign, wrong.
Her lap, the cape, the floor—everywhere she looked, her hair was scattered. It was all happening too fast. It was unbearable.
And yet… the barber wasn’t done.
The Ustra’s Edge
Just when Anu thought the worst was over, the barber did something unexpected.
Instead of evening out the ends of her freshly chopped bob, he picked up the spray bottle again. Why? She watched in confusion as he began spraying a lot of water onto her hair—way more than necessary. Cold droplets trickled down her neck, sending a shiver through her.
Then, without warning, his hands were on her head.
Firm fingers pressed into her scalp, massaging the water in with surprising intensity. His touch was vigorous, rough yet precise, hitting all the right nerves. Her head tilted slightly forward as he worked, his fingers moving in slow, deep circles.
She closed her eyes, reacting instinctively to the sensation.
It felt… good. Too good. A strange warmth spread through her, tingling down her spine. Her body relaxed under his touch, her muscles going weak. For a fleeting moment, she felt something almost embarrassing. She had to press her thighs together, an unexpected urge washing over her.
Then—just as suddenly as it started—it stopped. She blinked, dazed, trying to shake off the fog in her head. And that’s when she saw it.
The glint of theustrain his hands.
Her heart skipped a beat. Before she could even think, he turned to her parents, silently seeking their approval.
And then—
Her father grabbed her left hand, pinning it down onto the chair’s armrest. Her mother did the same with her right. A cold, numbing fear crawled up her spine.
Mother: “Kardo bhaiya takli. Yahi best hai.”
The words felt like a punch to the gut.
No. No, no, no.
She tried to move, tried to do something, but her limbs refused to cooperate. Her breath came out in short, panicked bursts. Her mother leaned in, her voice gentle, almost pleading.
Mother: “Please beta, humse naraz mat hona. Yeh sirf tumhare bhale ke liye hai. Aap bohot cute lagogi, sach.”
Her father, on the other hand—he was laughing.
Father: “Arey wah, ekdum Tenali Rama lagegi! Beta, kehna ho toh ek choti chhodne ke liye bol dun bhaiya ko?”
The casual way they were discussing her head being shaved bald. The way her father was joking about it. It was too much. Her mind screamed. Her body refused to move.
She was completely, utterly frozen.
Let me know if I should write a part 2 ?