Rajvishnu
For as long as I can remember, life in Bangalore was all about routine. The bustling city had been home to Mom and me for as long as I could remember. Bangalore had this pulse—something about the crowded streets, the sound of traffic, and the rhythm of people always moving forward. It was home, and even though it was just the two of us, we were comfortable there.
My mom, Megha, is this incredible woman—calm, elegant, and always with a quiet strength about her. She’s 48 now, but you’d never know it from the way she carries herself. After Dad passed away two years into their marriage, she never remarried. Instead, she poured her love into raising me and making sure I had a full, happy life. Despite everything she’s been through, she’s always been graceful, and her long, flowing hair has kind of become a symbol of that grace. Dad loved her hair, and for years, it seemed like a connection she held onto, a part of him that remained with us.
I’m Chandni—24, and the opposite of calm and collected, to be honest. I’m loud, spontaneous, and I don’t mind being a bit different. That’s why I’ve kept my hair short for a while now. It’s curly on top, maybe five inches, but the back and sides are buzzed close to my scalp. Some people find it boyish, but I love it. It’s edgy, and it’s me. I have a great circle of friends in Bangalore, and we partied a lot, living for the moment, enjoying life to the fullest. Even though Mom and I lived a pretty comfortable life, we were still grieving in our own ways. But Bangalore was our comfort zone.
And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Mom decided it was time for a change. A big change.
Mom had always been smart with money, and after Dad’s passing, we were left well-off, which meant we didn’t have to worry about much financially. Recently, she started talking about moving to a quieter place, somewhere away from the hectic pace of Bangalore. I didn’t take it too seriously at first. I figured it was just her way of dealing with things, but then she found this beautiful villa in Mangalore. A beachfront villa, no less. The moment she saw it, she was sold. It was a gorgeous place, a big, sprawling house with a backyard that practically melted into the sand, with the beach only about 40 meters away from the house.
I had to admit, the idea of waking up to the sound of the waves was appealing, but it still felt strange to leave everything behind in Bangalore. The city had been our home for so long. But for Mom, this was something she needed. She wanted a fresh start, and after everything we’d been through, I could understand that. She never said it out loud, but I could tell she felt like staying in Bangalore meant staying stuck in the past.
So, after a lot of packing and a few emotional goodbyes, we finally made the move. Mangalore was slower, quieter, and hotter—so much hotter. But there was something refreshing about the simplicity of it all. We moved into our new villa, and as we unpacked and started settling in, I could see the excitement in Mom’s eyes. She was looking forward to this new beginning, and as much as I missed Bangalore and my friends, I couldn’t help but feel like something exciting was on the horizon.
Neither of us could’ve imagined just how much things would change once we arrived in Mangalore. I thought it was just about moving to a new house, but for Mom, this was the beginning of a transformation I never saw coming.
Settling into the beach house in Mangalore was like stepping into another world. After the fast-paced chaos of Bangalore, the quiet, laid-back vibe of this small coastal town felt almost surreal. The mornings here were slow, with the sound of waves gently rolling onto the shore as the first light of dawn filtered through the windows. Our villa sat right on the beach, only about 40 meters from the water’s edge. I could wake up, step outside, and feel the cool sand beneath my feet within seconds. It was a kind of peacefulness I didn’t know I needed until I experienced it.
Life in this small town was… different, to say the least. It was a far cry from the urban sprawl and constant activity we were used to. Here, people knew each other. There were no massive malls or late-night parties—at least, none that I had discovered yet. Instead, there were tiny shops, local markets, and small gatherings by the shore. It was quiet but not in a boring way. It felt like a place where time slowed down, and the simplest things, like watching the sunset or taking a walk by the sea, became the highlights of the day.
The house itself was massive, much bigger than what we needed, but Mom had fallen in love with it the moment she saw it. It was modern and spacious, with large windows overlooking the beach and a backyard that opened directly onto the sand. The sound of the waves had become our background music, a constant, soothing rhythm. I found myself adjusting to the slower pace more easily than I thought. Even my social, party-loving self was beginning to appreciate the calm.
Mom, on the other hand, seemed to thrive here from the start. There was something about Mangalore that suited her. Maybe it was the proximity to the water or the way the town moved at a slower, more reflective pace. Either way, I could tell she was happier. She’d always been strong, carrying the weight of losing Dad all these years without ever really letting it show. But here, there was a lightness in her that I hadn’t seen in a long time.
One afternoon, about a week after we moved in, Mom casually dropped a piece of news that caught me off guard.
Megha:
(glancing up from her book as she sipped on her tea)
“Chandni, we’ve been invited to a party tomorrow evening. It’s a small beach gathering—just a few friends of mine from town.”
Chandni:
(raising an eyebrow, putting down her phone)
“A party? Already? You’ve only been here a week, Mom. How do you already have friends throwing beach parties?”
Megha:
(laughing softly)
“Well, I have my ways. Mangalore might be small, but the people are friendly. Besides, I’ve kept in touch with a couple of old friends who moved here years ago. They’re the ones hosting.”
Chandni:
(grinning)
“Look at you, already making connections! I was wondering when we’d actually start seeing people.”
Megha:
“It’s not exactly the kind of party you’re used to in Bangalore, though. It’ll be more… laid back. A few drinks, some music, and a lot of conversation.”
Chandni:
(teasing)
“So, no wild dancing and loud music, huh? Guess I’ll have to tone it down then.”
Megha:
(smiling)
“Exactly. But before we head to the party, I have an appointment.”
Chandni:
(frowning in confusion)
“Appointment? What kind of appointment?”
Megha:
“A hair appointment.”
Chandni:
(laughing, surprised)
“Hair appointment? In this small town? Where in Mangalore did you even find a salon?”
Megha:
(shrugging)
“Not a salon, actually. It’s a little barbershop I spotted when I was walking around town yesterday.”
Chandni:
(raising an eyebrow)
“A barbershop? Wait, why are you going to a barbershop for a haircut? You’ve always gone to these fancy salons in Bangalore. You sure about this?”
Megha:
(with a mysterious smile)
“Let’s just say I’m ready for a change. You’ll see.”
Chandni:
(still curious but letting it slide)
“Alright, Mom. Just don’t go doing anything crazy.”
Megha:
(with a playful grin)
“Don’t worry. You’ll just have to wait and see. Be ready by six. The party starts at seven, so I want to get this haircut done before then.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but the idea of Mom going to a barbershop for a haircut definitely raised my curiosity. She’d always taken great care of her hair—long, silky, and a symbol of the grace she carried through all the difficult times in her life. I couldn’t imagine her going for any sort of drastic change, but the way she was talking, it seemed like she had something bold in mind.
So, that evening, we got ready. Mom dressed in a sleek asymmetrical dress that was shorter than what she usually wore, showing off her legs and leaving her arms bare in the sleeveless design. She looked elegant, as always. I threw on something a bit more casual, sticking to my fun, easygoing style. By 5:45, we were out the door, heading toward the barbershop. I had no idea what to expect, but knowing Mom, I had a feeling something big was about to happen.
It was just a small barbershop, tucked away in a quiet corner of town. I wasn’t expecting much when Mom told me about it, but when we arrived, something about the simplicity of the place made it seem perfect for her. The smell of aftershave hung in the air, and the sound of low chatter from a couple of locals filled the small room. There were just a few old-fashioned barber chairs, a large mirror, and the soft buzz of clippers in the background. It felt oddly comforting, even for someone like me who’s more used to the noise and bustle of city life.
The barber greeted us with a friendly nod, and Mom immediately took a seat in one of the big, worn-out chairs. I flopped down on a nearby couch, grabbing a magazine to keep myself busy. I figured Mom was just going for a trim, something light. She loved her long hair, and I couldn’t imagine her doing anything too drastic. But then I noticed that glint in her eye—the one that hinted she had something bigger in mind.
Barber:
(with a respectful nod)
“Alright, ma’am. Ready to begin?”
Megha:
(smiling softly)
“Yes, I’m ready.”
The barber started by draping the cape around Mom’s shoulders, her long, silky hair resting neatly on her back. With the soft snip, snip of the scissors, he began at the back, cutting through her thick locks. Each cut was deliberate, and within moments, the long strands fell gracefully to the floor, reduced from their flowing length to a neat, shoulder-length bob. I could hear the crisp sound of the scissors slicing through the hair, each snip echoing in the quiet barbershop.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
Oh my God, that’s so much hair! She’s actually cutting it short!
Mom didn’t flinch. She simply smiled, enjoying the lightness that came with each falling lock of hair. The transition from long to shoulder-length was fast but felt monumental.
After cutting Mom’s hair to shoulder length, the barber didn’t stop. He moved around her, scissors still in hand, and I could already tell from the determined look on his face that something more drastic was coming.
He started by sectioning off the remaining shoulder-length hair, gently combing it through, then lifting it with his fingers at the sides. I heard the snip, snip again—this time much closer to her scalp. The scissors sliced through the hair just above her ears, sending inch-long chunks tumbling down onto the cape and slipping onto the floor. I stared at the growing pile of hair beneath the chair, stunned at how much was already gone. He worked quickly, the scissors crunching through the hair as he continued cutting around her head, shortening it even more.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
Oh my God, she’s really going for it. This is a full-on boy cut! What is she doing?
The barber moved to the back, running his fingers through the remaining length there. With a few swift snips, he chopped it all down to just a few inches, leaving the back and sides of her hair cropped close to her scalp. As the locks fell, they seemed to gather into a thick pile on the floor, covering the ground around the chair like dark, silky snow. Each cut was sharp, precise, and deliberate. The sound of the scissors slicing through her hair was rhythmic, almost calming in the silence of the barbershop.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
There’s so much hair on the floor already. I can’t believe she’s cutting this much off!
But Mom? She was completely unfazed. In fact, she was smiling again—calm, composed, and clearly enjoying the transformation. Her eyes were closed, her shoulders relaxed as the barber worked. It was like she was savoring each step, relishing the feeling of change. The sides and back of her hair were now cropped close, almost to the point of being boyish, with only a bit of length left at the top.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
This is wild. She looks like a completely different person… and she’s loving it!
The barber worked meticulously, trimming the top down next, snipping through the hair there with precise cuts until it blended with the shorter sides. The scissors made quick, efficient snips as he shaped the hair into a clean, boyish cut. I watched, transfixed, as more hair dropped from her head, gathering on the floor in messy piles.
When the barber finally stepped back to examine his work, Mom’s transformation into a chic boy cut was complete. Her hair was cropped close all around, soft and short, leaving nothing more than a few inches on top. She opened her eyes, still smiling, and caught my gaze in the mirror.
Megha:
(laughing softly)
“Well, what do you think so far?”
Chandni’s Thoughts:
I don’t even recognize her… but she looks so happy!
I couldn’t believe it. There was no trace of the long, flowing hair she’d always cherished. But despite the drastic change, Mom looked radiant, confident, and lighter—like she had let go of something more than just her hair.
Just as I thought the transformation was over, I heard the unmistakable buzzzzz of the clippers. My heart skipped a beat. The barber calmly set down his scissors and picked up the clippers, running a hand over Mom’s newly cropped hair, as if measuring just how much more to take off. I leaned forward slightly, unable to believe what was happening.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
No way… she’s not going even shorter, is she?
But she was. The barber didn’t pause or ask for permission—he just turned on the clippers, placed them at the nape of her neck, and gently pushed them upward. The loud, steady hum of the clippers filled the room, slicing through the remaining hair with ease. Tiny bits of hair flew up, some of them catching on the cape, while others brushed softly against Mom’s face and neck. She didn’t flinch, though. She just smiled, her eyes closed, as if she was enjoying the soft vibration of the clippers against her scalp.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
Oh my God, this is real. He’s shaving it down to almost nothing!
The clippers moved slowly but methodically, buzzing up the back of her head from her nape to her crown. The hair that had been cut to a few inches just moments ago was now being reduced to short, velvety bristles. I watched in shock as the strands fell onto the cape, sliding off and joining the growing pile of hair on the floor. The back of her head was now covered in nothing but a fine layer of stubble.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
There’s no going back now. She’s almost bald… and she’s still smiling!
The barber continued, working his way around to the sides, guiding the clippers just above her ears. The buzzing sound seemed louder now, echoing in the small shop. Every stroke of the clippers left her hair shorter, cleaner, until the sides matched the back—reduced to barely-there fuzz. The tiny, short bristles clung to her face and neck, but Mom didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she tilted her head slightly, as if to give the barber better access, still looking completely at ease.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
How is she so calm? I’d be freaking out! But she looks… peaceful, like she’s letting go of everything.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The clippers were now buzzing over the top of her head, slowly reducing the last few inches of hair to the same short stubble that covered the rest of her scalp. The sound was almost hypnotic, a soft hum that filled the space, making everything else seem distant. The buzzing continued, never stopping, as the barber worked with precision, smoothing out any uneven patches, making sure every inch of her head was clipped down to the same short, velvety texture.
By the time the buzzing stopped, Mom’s transformation was nearly complete. Her head was covered in nothing but a soft layer of fuzz, just a few millimeters long. The barber stepped back, turning off the clippers and brushing off the remaining tiny hairs that clung to her face and neck.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
I can’t believe it. She’s almost bald. What just happened?
The floor was littered with her hair—thick, dark locks mixed with shorter, fine strands. It looked like someone had taken a full head of hair and scattered it across the ground. But despite the mess, I couldn’t focus on anything other than Mom’s face. She looked… liberated. There was something so raw, so real about her sitting there with her head shaved down to stubble, smiling softly as if this had been her plan all along.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
Why does this feel like more than just a haircut? She’s so calm. She looks so… free.
I felt a strange sense of excitement bubbling up inside me. Maybe it was the intensity of watching such a drastic transformation, or maybe it was something deeper, something I couldn’t quite put into words. Mom wasn’t just cutting her hair—she was shedding something, letting go in a way I hadn’t seen before. And somehow, watching her, I felt a part of that freedom too.
The clippers had already done their work, leaving Mom’s head covered in a soft layer of stubble, but the barber wasn’t finished. With a steady hand, he reached for the straight razor, methodically changing to a fresh blade. The schhkk sound of the razor snapping into place made my pulse quicken. He picked up a small brush and began to lather warm shaving cream across Mom’s scalp, starting at the crown and moving in smooth circles. Her eyes were still closed, her face serene, as if she were savoring each moment.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
Oh my God, she’s actually getting a full shave. She’s going completely bald.
The barber positioned the razor at the center of Mom’s head, just above her forehead, and slowly, carefully, pulled it back towards her nape. The sound was so distinct, so crisp—schhkk, schhkk. Each stroke of the blade glided through the remaining fuzz, revealing soft, gleaming skin beneath. He worked with precision, taking his time as he scraped away the stubble from the middle of her head to the back. The gentle schhkk sound of the blade echoed softly in the quiet barbershop, like a calming ASMR rhythm.
Megha:
(smiling, her lips slightly curved upward as the razor glides over her scalp)
“Mmm…”
Mom was clearly enjoying every scrape of the razor, her body relaxed, her smile deepening with each pass. The barber moved to her left side, gently stretching the skin just above her ear as he pulled the razor down in smooth strokes. I could hear each movement, the subtle, soothing schhkk as more stubble fell away. He worked around her ear and down to her neck, then moved to the right, repeating the process.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
She looks so peaceful, like she’s shedding her old self… She looks… beautiful.
The barber moved back to the top of her head, working in sections, clearing away the remaining hair. Each pass of the razor was deliberate, slow, ensuring every inch of her scalp was left smooth and gleaming. Mom’s expression was one of pure contentment. It was as if she was embracing every sensation, every moment of this transformation.
When the first shave was complete, the barber changed the blade again and started a reverse shave, pulling the razor in the opposite direction to ensure her scalp was perfectly smooth. The schhkk sound was even softer this time, the strokes light and careful, leaving her skin shining, smooth as silk. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. With every stroke, Mom looked more radiant, like she was glowing from the inside out.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
She looks like an angel… bright, like the full moon.
The final touch came when the barber gently ran the razor across her entire scalp one last time, making sure there wasn’t a single missed spot. Then, without warning, he tilted her chin up slightly and, with the same razor, carefully shaved her face—no shaving cream this time. The blade glided over her smooth skin, schhkk, schhkk, clearing away any fine hair on her cheeks and chin. It was quick, delicate, and left her skin flawless.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
She’s glowing. She looks so confident, so… free.
Finally, the barber wiped her face and head with a warm towel, then ran his hand over her smooth scalp, checking for any rough spots. There were none. Mom looked into the mirror, her bald head gleaming under the lights, her face glowing like never before. She smiled—bright, beautiful, and more radiant than I’d ever seen her.
Megha:
(grinning at Chandni)
“Well, what do you think?”
Chandni:
(grinning back)
“You look like a goddess, Mom. An absolute goddess.”
She truly did. Her bald head shone under the soft lights of the barbershop, smooth and perfect, her face glowing with confidence. The transformation was complete—she looked like a whole new person, brighter, lighter, and more beautiful than I had ever seen her.
As we left the barbershop, I walked a few steps behind Mom, still trying to process everything that had just happened. I couldn’t take my eyes off her newly shaved head, gleaming in the evening light. It was surreal. The woman who had always cherished her long, flowing hair, who had held onto it like a piece of Dad’s memory for all these years, had just let it all go. And she looked… radiant.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
Why did she do it? Why now, after so many years of keeping her hair long?
But as I followed her, watching the way she carried herself—her back straight, her steps light, her bald head reflecting the soft glow of the full moon above—I started to understand. This wasn’t just about a haircut. This was about freedom. She had been holding onto so much—memories, grief, maybe even guilt. And now, with every lock of hair that fell to the floor, she had let go of all of it. This was her fresh start. It was as if, after years of putting everyone else first, she had finally done something entirely for herself. Something bold. Something liberating.
The moonlight caught the smooth curve of her scalp, making it shine like a perfect, polished pearl. It almost seemed to reflect the full moon hanging in the sky above us. I couldn’t help but smile. She looked… beautiful. Not just because she was bald, but because she was happy—truly, genuinely happy.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
She looks like the moon—bright, strong, and full of life. She finally did something she’s wanted to do for years. And I’ve never seen her so free, so at peace.
I realized then how much she had been holding back, how long she had been putting on a brave face, all the while keeping a part of herself locked away. But now, as we headed toward the beach party, it felt like she was finally allowing herself to be truly free. To embrace change, to let go of the past, and to step into this new chapter of her life with confidence.
Walking behind her, I felt proud. Proud that she had found the strength to do something this bold. Proud that she was finally allowing herself to move forward, to be happy, to be exactly who she wanted to be. And I loved seeing her like this—strong, radiant, and unapologetically herself.
As the waves crashed softly in the distance and the moon shone down on us, I couldn’t help but feel that this was exactly where we were supposed to be. This move, this transformation—everything suddenly made sense. Mom was glowing, her bald head reflecting the light of the full moon, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like we were both truly starting over.
Chandni’s Thoughts:
She’s free. And that’s all that matters. She finally got to do what she’s wanted for years. And I love that she’s happy—happier than I’ve seen her in a long time.
As we walked toward the party, I smiled to myself, knowing that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.
Megha and Chandni step into the beach party, and the lively atmosphere immediately quiets as people notice Megha’s striking new look. Her freshly shaved head catches the attention of nearly everyone there, and soon, whispers turn into curious stares. Some of the guests approach her, their surprise evident.
One woman, clearly intrigued, asks, “Megha, which temple did you offer your hair at? It’s such a drastic change!”
Megha, with a serene smile, replies confidently, “I didn’t do this for any temple. I did it for myself.” Her words surprise the group, but they quickly respect the power behind her decision.
As the evening progresses, Megha’s bold, confident look becomes the talk of the party. Some people commend her courage, while others can’t help but admire how stunning she looks, despite such a drastic transformation. Conversations flow around her, and instead of pity or concern, there’s admiration and fascination. People see her not just as a woman who shaved her head but as someone who embraced change on her own terms.
Chandni, watching from a distance, is filled with a mix of pride and awe. She smiles to herself, realizing just how strong her mother is, and she can’t help but love Megha even more for this fearless choice. The way Megha holds herself, the grace with which she handles the attention, makes Chandni feel incredibly proud and connected to her mother’s journey.
Throughout the party, Chandni feels a sense of joy and contentment. She loves how her mother took such a bold step, not to fulfill any external expectations but purely for herself. Chandni sees this transformation as more than just a change in appearance—it represents Megha’s emotional and personal growth. By the end of the night, Megha’s confidence and newfound energy leave a lasting impression on everyone, solidifying her as the highlight of the evening. Chandni couldn’t be happier, knowing her mother is finally free, and feeling proud to walk beside her through this new chapter.
After the party, Megha and Chandni return home late in the night, still buzzing from the evening’s excitement. The moonlight filters through the curtains as they walk into their cozy seaside home, exhausted but content. Chandni glances at her mother, her bald head glowing softly under the dim lights. Megha’s serene expression tells Chandni everything—her mother is at peace with her decision. They exchange a few quiet words before heading to bed, each lost in their thoughts.
The next morning, Chandni wakes up with a groggy feeling, wondering if the events of the previous day had all been part of a strange dream. She rubs her eyes and stretches, trying to recall the vivid image of her mother, bald and radiant at the party. It felt surreal, almost too bold to be true. She stares at the ceiling, half-convinced she must have imagined it.
Curious and still a little unsure, Chandni throws off the covers and walks barefoot into the living room. As she rounds the corner, her heart skips a beat. There, bathed in the soft morning light, sits Megha by the window, sipping tea. Her freshly shaven head glows in the sunlight, smooth and shiny, just like a baby’s scalp. The sight immediately brings a smile to Chandni’s face—this was no dream. Her mother had truly done it.
Without thinking twice, Chandni walks up behind her mother, wraps her arms around her in a tight hug, and kisses the top of her bald head, the skin warm beneath her lips. Megha is taken by surprise for a moment but quickly relaxes, her eyes closing as she leans into her daughter’s embrace.
“Good morning, Mom,” Chandni whispers, her voice soft and affectionate.
Megha turns her head slightly to look up at Chandni, smiling warmly. “Good morning, darling.”
Chandni moves around to sit beside her mother, reaching out to gently touch her smooth scalp, still in awe. “You really did it,” Chandni says, her voice filled with admiration and disbelief. “I thought for a second it might have been a dream.”
Megha chuckles softly, taking Chandni’s hand in hers. “No dream. Just a new reality.”
Chandni traces her fingers over the smooth surface of her mother’s head, still amazed at how different she looks. But it’s not just the physical change. There’s something more—a sense of lightness, of freedom, that radiates from Megha. Chandni can feel it in the way her mother holds herself, the calm in her eyes, the peacefulness that wasn’t there before.
“You look… so beautiful,” Chandni murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. “Like a whole new person.”
Megha squeezes her daughter’s hand gently. “I feel like a whole new person. It’s strange, but I didn’t realize how much I was carrying until I let go of it. This,” she gestures to her bald head, “it feels like shedding a part of myself that’s been weighing me down for years.”
Chandni nods, her heart swelling with pride. “I love it, Mom. I love that you did this for yourself.”
Megha’s smile deepens, her eyes glistening with quiet emotion. “Thank you, Chandni. I was nervous at first, but now… I just feel free. Lighter.”
As Chandni sits beside her mother, still marveling at her bald head, curiosity gets the best of her. She tilts her head slightly and asks, “Mom, why did you really shave your head? I mean, I get the whole ‘new beginning’ thing, but there has to be more to it.”
Megha’s smile fades into something more thoughtful. She takes a deep breath, her fingers instinctively rubbing her smooth scalp as if drawing comfort from the gesture. Her eyes soften as she looks at her daughter. “You’re right, Chandni. There’s more to it.”
Chandni leans forward, intrigued. “So, what’s the real reason?”
Megha lets out a soft sigh, her hand still gently caressing her head. “For years, after your dad passed, I was just… surviving. Taking care of you, the house, my responsibilities. But I wasn’t taking care of myself. I didn’t do anything for me. My whole world revolved around making sure you were okay, that life moved forward, but I lost track of my own needs along the way.”
She pauses, her fingers tracing the curves of her bald head, and then smiles to herself. “Shaving my head—it wasn’t just about starting over. It was about finally doing something for myself. Something I’ve always wanted but never felt brave enough to do. This is just the beginning for me. From now on, I want to enjoy every moment of my life, without holding back.”
Chandni watches her mother intently, sensing there’s more. “But why this, Mom? Why shaving your head?”
Megha chuckles softly, her hand never leaving her head, clearly savoring the feeling. “Well, it’s something that’s been with me for a long time. You remember how your dad used to keep his head shaved all the time?”
Chandni nods, recalling her father’s smooth scalp and how it had always been part of his look.
“I loved it,” Megha admits with a smile, a flicker of nostalgia in her eyes. “I always found it appealing—clean, fresh, freeing. I used to watch him shave his head, and he seemed so comfortable in his skin. It’s something that stayed with me. After he passed, I think a part of me wanted to keep that memory alive in some way.”
Chandni’s eyes widen, realization dawning on her. “So, that’s why you used to get my head shaved sometimes? You always said it was for a temple offering, but…”
Megha grins sheepishly, her hand still fondly rubbing her head. “Well, yes and no. The temple visits were real, but I also… loved seeing you with a shaved head. It reminded me of your dad, and you always looked so adorable. When you were younger, I used to convince you it was for religious reasons, but truthfully, I just liked it. It was my way of holding onto that feeling. And over time, I realized I enjoyed short hair on you because it gave you such a unique, bold look.”
Chandni bursts into laughter, shaking her head in disbelief. “So that’s the real reason behind my short hair! You’ve been scheming to get me shaved in temples for years!”
Megha laughs too, a genuine, hearty sound. “Maybe just a little. But you never complained, did you?”
Chandni, still chuckling, leans in and touches her mother’s smooth scalp, mimicking her gentle rubbing motion. “I guess I never did, huh? But wow, I had no idea you were this obsessed with bald heads!”
Megha’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “I wouldn’t call it an obsession, but yes, I do have a… fondness for it. And now, I’ve decided to keep my head shaved for good. I love how it feels—so freeing. I think this is the start of something I’ve wanted for a long time.”
Chandni grins, shaking her head in playful disbelief. “You know, Mom, I think I understand now. You’ve always done so much for me, for everyone. I love that you’re finally doing something for yourself.”
Megha looks at her daughter warmly, her hand still massaging her scalp with a quiet contentment. “Thank you, Chandni. It feels good. And who knows, maybe you’ll join me in keeping it short for good too?”
Chandni rolls her eyes playfully but smiles. “We’ll see, Mom. But I have to admit, seeing you like this makes me think… maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all.”
The two share a lighthearted moment, their laughter filling the room, with Megha enjoying every second of this new chapter—one where she finally prioritizes herself, embraces her desires, and finds freedom in something as simple as shaving her head.
As Chandni’s fingers linger on her mother’s smooth, bald head, she starts gently rubbing it, her touch light and playful. Megha closes her eyes for a moment, her expression softening as she leans into the sensation. The touch seems to relax her even more, and she can’t help but smile.
Chandni, watching her mother’s reaction, suddenly grins. “You really love this, don’t you?” she asks with a teasing glint in her eyes, continuing to play with Megha’s scalp. Megha nods, a peaceful look spreading across her face. “I do,” she admits. “It feels… freeing. I never knew something so simple could bring so much comfort.”
Chandni, now intrigued by her mother’s sense of liberation, bites her lip thoughtfully before blurting out, “Mom, do you think I could shave my head too? Just like you?”
Megha’s eyes fly open in surprise, widening as she turns to look at her daughter. “You want to shave your head? Are you sure, Chandni?” she asks, her voice full of astonishment but also excitement.
Chandni nods eagerly, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Yeah! I’ve been thinking about it since last night. I think it would be fun, and honestly… I want to feel what you’re feeling right now. The freedom, the boldness. Plus, it’s something we can do together.”
Megha smiles, her heart swelling with pride and joy. “If that’s what you wish, then yes, we can go back to the same barbershop. I’ll be right there with you.” Her voice is warm, filled with love and support.
Chandni, unable to contain her excitement, throws her arms around her mother, hugging her tightly. “Thank you, Mom! This is going to be amazing!” She plants a kiss on her mother’s bald head, giggling with excitement. “Finally!” she exclaims, as if she’d been waiting for this moment all her life.
Megha, feeling a rush of happiness, hugs her daughter back, holding her close. The idea of both of them sharing this experience, this bond, makes her heart swell. Chandni’s eagerness reminds her of the boldness she herself has embraced, and now, they’re about to embark on this journey together.
“Then let’s do it,” Megha says softly, her eyes twinkling with pride. “You and me, together.”
And with that, the two of them, mother and daughter, prepare for yet another bold step into a new chapter of their lives.
Chandni and Megha, both full of excitement and anticipation, walk into the small, familiar barbershop. The barber, the same man who had shaved Megha’s head the day before, greets them with a smile.
“Back so soon?” he asks, his gaze shifting from Megha to Chandni with a knowing look.
Megha grins and nudges Chandni forward. “This time it’s her turn,” she says with a playful tone. “She’s ready for the same treatment.”
Chandni, already feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement, sits down in the barber’s chair. The leather seat feels cool against her back as she settles in. Her heart races slightly, but there’s a thrill in it too—this is the first time she’s willingly chosen to shave her head, rather than having it done as a religious act. She looks at her reflection in the mirror, her short curls framing her face, and wonders what she’ll look like in just a few minutes.
The barber grabs a large, white cape and drapes it over her, wrapping it snugly around her neck. The smooth fabric brushes against her skin, sending a slight shiver down her spine. Chandni’s eyes meet Megha’s in the mirror, and her mother gives her a reassuring smile.
“You’re going to love it,” Megha says softly, her hand resting on Chandni’s shoulder. “Just relax and enjoy the process.”
Chandni nods, taking a deep breath. The barber pulls out his tools—a straight razor and a brush. He tilts Chandni’s head slightly forward, positioning her comfortably, and runs a hand through her short hair one last time before he begins. The barber’s hands are gentle but firm, experienced from years of shaving heads.
With a soft click, the razor is ready.
The barber starts at the front, taking the razor in smooth, deliberate strokes. Chandni feels the cold steel as it glides across her scalp, the razor cutting through her hair effortlessly. The sensation is immediate—a soft tug followed by the cool breeze that touches her now-exposed skin. The first locks of her curly hair fall gently onto the cape, and she watches them cascade down in the mirror.
Megha’s eyes light up with excitement as she watches the transformation begin. “You’re doing great, Chandni,” she encourages, her voice filled with pride. “You’re going to look incredible.”
The barber continues, moving the razor in long, graceful swipes across the top of Chandni’s head. More hair falls, revealing smooth, pale skin beneath. Chandni’s heart races, but it’s not from nerves anymore—it’s from the exhilaration of watching herself change so dramatically in the mirror. She can feel every movement of the razor, the cool metal gliding smoothly against her scalp. It’s different from all the times her head was shaved at temples; this time, it feels personal, intimate, and empowering.
As the barber works, Megha strikes up a conversation. “I told her she’d feel free, just like I do now,” she says with a smile, running a hand over her own smooth scalp. “There’s something about it—it’s not just about the look, but the sensation too.”
The barber nods in agreement, carefully working around Chandni’s ears now. “Many people say that,” he replies. “Shaving the head is a ritual for some, but when it’s a choice, it’s empowering. A statement.”
Chandni glances up at him in the mirror, her excitement growing as she sees more of her scalp exposed with each pass of the razor. “It does feel different,” she admits, her voice steady. “I’ve had my head shaved more than five times at temples, but never like this. I actually wanted it this time. It’s… thrilling.”
The barber smiles as he continues shaving the sides of her head, the razor sliding smoothly down her scalp. Each stroke reveals more of her bare skin, and Chandni can feel the difference immediately. The cool air from the room kisses her newly exposed scalp, and the sensation of the razor running over her skin sends a shiver of excitement through her.
Hair continues to fall in soft clumps onto the cape, gathering in her lap. Chandni watches as her reflection changes, her scalp becoming more visible, gleaming slightly under the lights of the shop. Her short curls are gone now, and what’s left is smooth, bare skin.
“How does it feel?” Megha asks, leaning in with a grin.
Chandni smiles, a rush of adrenaline and freedom coursing through her. “It feels… amazing. I love it.” Her fingers twitch beneath the cape, eager to touch her scalp.
The barber finishes the last few strokes, ensuring every part of Chandni’s head is perfectly smooth. He switches the razor for a damp cloth, gently wiping away any stray hair and smoothing the skin. “There you go,” he says with a nod, stepping back to let Chandni admire herself.
Chandni slowly lifts her hand and touches her head for the first time. The sensation is electric. Her scalp feels smooth and cool beneath her fingers, and she rubs her head, just like she’d seen her mother do. It’s softer than she expected, and the sensation of her hand running over her bare scalp fills her with a strange, almost addictive satisfaction.
Megha beams with pride as she watches Chandni’s reaction. “You look incredible,” she says softly, standing beside her daughter. “Now you know why I couldn’t stop touching my head.”
Chandni chuckles, her fingers still exploring the new landscape of her scalp. “I get it now. I’m never going to stop doing this,” she laughs, rubbing her head again, feeling the smoothness, the freshness.
The barber steps forward again, looking at Megha. “Anything else today?”
Megha smiles mischievously. “Yes, actually. Chandni’s face. No shaving cream, though. Let’s give her the full experience.”
Chandni’s eyes widen slightly, but she’s more intrigued than nervous. The barber nods, picking up the straight razor once more. He tilts her chin up gently and begins to shave her face, using delicate, practiced strokes. Without the usual lather, Chandni can feel the razor against her skin in a new way—sharp, precise, and oddly satisfying. Each swipe leaves her skin even smoother than before.
Megha watches with admiration, her hands resting on her own head as she enjoys every moment of the experience unfolding in front of her.
When the barber finishes, Chandni looks at herself in the mirror, her scalp gleaming and her face smooth. She looks… different. Bold. Confident. She runs her hand over her scalp again and grins. “Finally,” she says with a laugh, turning to her mother. “I get it now. This is incredible.”
Megha smiles warmly and pulls Chandni into a hug. “Welcome to the club, darling.”
After returning home from the barbershop, both Chandni and Megha were beaming with excitement and newfound energy. The bond between them felt stronger than ever. They hugged each other warmly, their smooth, bald heads gently touching, sharing a quiet moment of understanding and affection.
Later, Megha decided to take a shower, a simple ritual she now cherished in her bald state. As the warm water cascaded over her head, she felt the soothing sensation of the droplets on her bare scalp, bringing a sense of peace and renewal. Afterward, she grabbed her safety razor, standing in front of the mirror, carefully gliding it across her scalp to ensure a perfectly smooth shave. Every stroke was deliberate, a meditation of sorts, as she embraced the boldness and simplicity of her new look.
By the time dinner came around, the house was filled with the comfortable silence of contentment. Megha and Chandni sat across from each other at the dining table, sharing a simple meal. Megha, feeling a surge of emotion as she looked at her daughter, decided to speak from her heart.
“Chandni,” she began softly, setting her fork down and looking deeply into her daughter’s eyes, “I want you to know something. I love you so much. You’re not just my daughter—you’re my only hope, my reason for everything. Without you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Chandni, touched by her mother’s heartfelt words, smiled warmly. She reached out and gently rubbed Megha’s freshly shaved head, feeling the smoothness she now knew all too well. “You’re my only family, Mom,” Chandni said tenderly, her voice filled with love and sincerity. “I’ll always be here with you, no matter what.”
Megha smiled, her heart swelling with affection as they sat in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.
After dinner, they took their usual spot in the backyard, overlooking the beach. The soft sound of the waves rolling in against the shore filled the air as they sat side by side on the porch, the cool breeze brushing against their bald heads. The moonlight reflected off the water, creating a peaceful, calming atmosphere. Chandni rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, and Megha wrapped an arm around her.
As Megha and Chandni sat side by side in the backyard, gazing at the moonlit beach, their bald heads glistened in the soft glow of the night. Megha, having fully embraced her new look, couldn’t help but reach up and rub her scalp, feeling the smooth surface beneath her fingers. It was a gesture that had quickly become second nature—each time her hand met her bare head, she felt a wave of calm wash over her.
The sensation of being bald was unlike anything Megha had ever experienced. At first, it was the physical feeling that surprised her—the coolness of the air on her exposed skin, the softness of her scalp when she ran her hand over it. But what she hadn’t anticipated was the deeper sense of freedom it brought. Shaving her head had been more than just a drastic haircut; it was a release, a shedding of everything she’d held onto for so long. Now, each time she touched her scalp, it was a reminder that she had let go of the past and was fully present in this new chapter of her life.
Chandni, who had only just shaved her head , was still getting used to the sensation. She ran her fingers over her scalp, mimicking her mother’s movement, and found herself giggling. The smoothness was addictive, almost mesmerizing. “I can’t believe how good this feels,” she said, her voice filled with excitement. “I’ve never felt this free before.”
Megha smiled at her daughter, her heart swelling with pride. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she replied, her fingers still absently tracing small circles on her own head. “I thought I’d miss my hair more, but the truth is, I don’t miss it at all. Being bald… it’s like a constant reminder that I’m in control of my life now. No more hiding behind anything.”
Chandni nodded, her hand still exploring the smooth curves of her scalp. “I know what you mean. I’ve always kept my hair short because of you, but this… this is different. It feels like I’m truly starting fresh.”
Megha leaned in and kissed the top of Chandni’s bald head, savoring the moment. “You look beautiful,” she said softly, her voice full of love. “And more importantly, you look like you.”
The breeze from the ocean kissed their exposed heads, a cool sensation that sent shivers down their spines. Megha tilted her head back, letting the wind caress her scalp. “I never realized how much I love the feeling of the wind on my head,” she said with a laugh. “It’s like every part of me is more alive, more sensitive.”
Chandni laughed too, rubbing her own head as the breeze swept through. “Yeah, I noticed that too! It’s like we’re more connected to everything around us.”
They both sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying the sensations—the smoothness of their bald heads, the cool breeze, the sound of the waves in the distance. For Megha, this moment felt like a culmination of everything she’d been working toward. After years of focusing on others, on her responsibilities and her grief, she had finally done something for herself. Shaving her head had been a bold decision, but it had unlocked a new sense of freedom and self-love.
“I never told you this,” Megha began, her voice soft as she continued to rub her scalp, “but I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of being bald. Even when your father was alive and he shaved his head, I admired the way it looked on him. There was something so powerful and confident about it. I guess I never let myself imagine that I could do it too.”
Chandni looked at her mother with newfound admiration. “Really? I never knew that,” she said. “But now that you’ve done it… how does it feel?”
Megha smiled, her hand resting on her head once again. “It feels incredible. I don’t want to go back to having hair. I love this. I love the way it feels, the way it looks, the way it makes me feel inside. It’s like I’ve finally let go of something I didn’t even realize I was holding onto.”
Chandni grinned, her eyes sparkling. “So, you’re planning on staying bald?”
Megha’s smile widened. “Oh, absolutely. I’m going to keep shaving it. I want to stay bald for as long as I can. It’s not just about the look—it’s about the freedom it brings. Every time I run a razor over my scalp, it’s a reminder that I’m choosing to live my life for myself.”
Chandni, inspired by her mother’s words, leaned over and rubbed Megha’s head once more. “I love it too,” she said softly. “I love that you’re doing this for yourself. And honestly, I think I might keep mine shaved too.”
Megha’s eyes gleamed with pride. “We’ll be the bald duo,” she said with a laugh.
As they sat there in the backyard, watching the moonlit waves, their bald heads gleaming in the night, both women felt a deep sense of connection—not just to each other, but to themselves. For Megha, being bald had become a symbol of strength, freedom, and self-love. And as the wind gently caressed their smooth heads, they knew they were stepping into a new chapter of their lives, together, with confidence and grace.
In that moment, the world felt still, as if it existed only for them—two women, bound by love, embracing new beginnings together. The beach stretched out in front of them, symbolic of the endless possibilities ahead.
