Legendary Head Shave Tales
The wind swayed gently across the mountain as Ooba stood at the edge of the tribal cell. Reeru, guarded behind thick wooden bars, smiled when she saw him. Her eyes lit up — not with deep strength. The guards stepped away, letting them have one last moment. “Ooba… you must go,” she whispered, gripping the wooden bars. “I’ll wait. No matter how long. I’ll stay strong, just like you.” Ooba touched her fingers softly through the gap. “Reeru… you will be my wife. I will shave your head with my own hands.
And that day, we will never part again.” Reeru’s eyes brimmed, but she did not cry. “Bring their hair, Ooba. Win for us.” Ooba nodded, kissed her forehead through the bars, and left. He stepped into the wilderness, holding the old cracked map. His first path led him along the Green Lake. The flow was gentle. He walked barefoot through the shallow stream, the water cool, brushing against his ankles. The forest watched him silently. Later, he crossed over the Soft Cliffs. The climb was slow and carefully.
He paused under an ancient banyan tree, resting his back on its thick roots. Looking up, he muttered to himself, “She’s waiting… she wants me to return… she wants her head shaved only by me. Reeru… my Reeru…” He smiled faintly, closed his eyes, and slept. By morning, Ooba continued. The forest air turned moist, and he heard the bubbling of deep waters. He followed the sound and reached a vast blue pond at the end of a river. Suddenly, a shark jumped up from the water.
Its voice deep and echoing. “I’ll take you to the Water Goddess… only if you solve my riddle,” it growled. Ooba nodded, alert. The shark asked a question — about the balance of water, moon, and tide. Ooba thought carefully, remembered tales told by the elders, and answered it with confidence. The shark nodded, pleased. “Climb on,” it said. Holding the shark’s back, Ooba was taken deep into the hidden caves behind a waterfall. The Water Goddess emerged from the water. Her long hairs moved like waves.
Ooba bowed and explained his quest. She smiled warmly. “For love this true… I shall give.” She raised her hand, and in a simgle pull, all her hair came into her hands, her head clean and shining. She looked proud. “Take this,” she said, handing him the silken strands. “And may Reeru’s head shine even brighter on your wedding day.” Ooba thanked her and left, sending off the shark with friendship. Now the path led uphill. Ooba climbed rocks, jumped over streams, and hunted animals for food.
He roasted them by lighting stones and gathered fruits from tall trees. His skin burnt a little from the heat — the air was changing. By dusk, he saw the sharp edge of the Dark Hills. As he climbed the rough path, he felt warmth underfoot. The rocks sizzled — he was on a sleeping volcano. Crossing to the other side, he found glowing cracks in the land — rivers of lava. He looked around for the Fire Goddess with hope, but she was not there.
Instead, a white unicorn with fiery feathers appeared from behind the lava stones. “Before I take you to her,” it spoke, “you must answer and act.” It gave a riddle — about the heart of fire and the breath of wind. Then, it pointed to a baby deer stuck between two flame pits. Ooba ran swiftly, timed his jump, and pulled the deer out without a scratch. The unicorn watched in silence. Then, with a gentle nod, it stepped aside. “Follow me,” it said.
Ooba walked slowly across the burning black rocks. The sky above was glowing in orange and red. He saw a tall figure standing near the lava spring — it was the fire goddess. Ooba folded his hands and bowed his head. She looked at him with power. “Why are you here, young warrior?” she asked. He looked up, voice firm. “For my love. I need your blessing, your hair. Only then I can marry her and shave her head as per the sacred ritual.” The fire goddess raised one eyebrow.
“Why not choose a girl from your own clan? Why leave the queen’s offer and chase this Reeru? She belongs to another land, another people. Are you ready to burn your life for her?” Ooba looked her in the eye. “My heart belongs to Reeru. She is not just a girl… she is the breath I take. No throne, no crown, no safety is greater than her love.” There was a long pause. Then, the fire goddess smiled slowly and held her thick fiery red hair, and pulled it off completely. Her head was smooth, glowing with a soft shine in the firelight.
She handed her hair to him. “Take it. For your love. For Reeru’s head, which will soon be bald.” Ooba bowed again, grateful. He turned around and resumed his journey. The map didn’t show the forest goddess’s path. Ooba looked at every symbol, every corner, but nothing led to her. Still, he did not give up. With tired feet, he walked deep into the thick green jungle. The sun was low now. Suddenly, he heard a low growl. A cybertooth tiger. Its body was bleeding. When Ooba stepped closer, it tried to scratch him.
Still, he didn’t step back. He slowly moved forward. He took water from his pouch, tied a cloth to the wound. The beast growled again but didn’t stop him. As he looked around and noticed the giant banyan tree behind him. It was the same place where he had once rested and dreamt of Reeru. Suddenly, the tree glowed. Its roots moved like arms. The bark split slowly, and the forest goddess emerged out. She walked with grace and laughed softly. “So much challenge for one girl?” she teased him.
“You even tried to help my grumpy tiger.” Ooba stood silent, amazed. “I heard your heart that night, When you spoke to yourself under my tree. I know your story, warrior.” She stepped forward, her eyes kind, her voice warm like the forest wind. she placed her fingers on her head and pulled all of her hairs out. Her head was now smooth, clean. She handed the hair to Ooba. The tiger now sat calmly beside him. The wind blew softly through the trees. Ooba smiled for the first time in days.
He held all three goddess hairs close to his heart. His journey was done. Now it was time to return… time to shave Reeru’s head, marry her, and give her the love she had waited for. Ooba set foot down the mountain path as dark clouds gathered above. Cold rain began to fall, making the rocks slippery and the path dangerous. As he stumbled, a blinding orange glow lit up. The Fire Goddess had sent her unicorn. Its gave him a ride to the lower ground. By the time they reached the valley, the rain had poured heavily.
The path across was impossible. Then came a loud splash. The Water Goddess had heard him. The shark carried him fast and strong, cutting through the raging waters. On the other side, Ooba stepped off, soaked but safe. As he walked into the tribal gates, the drums started beating. People gathered, whispering and pointing. But Ooba’s eyes were searching only for one face—Reetu. Queen Mayshi rushed forward with open arms, her eyes shining. “You did it! Ooba, you—” He pushed her aside “Where is Reetu?”
She stopped. Just smiled. Her hands reached for the bag. As she opened it, the hairs floated up into the air—glowing, swirling, alive. That night, torches surrounded the central ritual ground. Queen Mayshi stood at the center. Her long hair was loosened and brushed. Her body painted in tribal marks. She started chanting, old forgotten words that twisted the air. Mayshi, in her greed, whispered a final chant meant to bind all powers to her alone. A loud crackle.
The hairs—fire, forest, and water—suddenly spun together, forming a dark vortex, a black hole. Mayshi’s hair lifted. Her body jerked upward. Her own hair now pulling her—dragging her upward, hanging her as her eyes widened. She gasped for breath, but her feet left the ground. She was floating, Her veins swelled. Her arms shook. Her eyes turned red. Then, blood. First from her eyes. Then her nose. Her ears. Her mouth. She screamed, but her voice was drowned by the energy storm.
Her scalp peeled. Her skull tightened. Still, she floated—her body flailing, helpless. A flash of fire, light, and smoke. The hairs blasted outward, flying back in three directions —returning to the goddesses. The Siviya clan was burning. Mayshi’s torn remains lay scattered on the blood-soaked soil. Her organs ripped out, flesh torn, limbs separated — her final rage had cost her everything. Hariya clan, broke into chaos. Warriors fought amongst themselves, desperate to crown the next dominant ruler.
Spears clashed, drums thundered, the war cry echoed deep across Namad Rabo island. Just then, the Forest Goddess’s pet — the ancient saber tooth tiger — emerged from the shadows. Ooba stood still, holding Reeru in his arms. They climbed onto the tiger’s back. The forest opened, revealing the forbidden part of the island — untouched, silent, sacred. There were no worries here. Ooba set to work, gathering to build a small hut from scratch. Reeru began preparing the sacred wedding .
Gathering flowers, leaves and crushed them gently with stone, made the ash paste, and placed a flat bowl with a razor inside. She lit a fire, drawing the tribal circle with sacred roots. This was not a rushed escape — it was the rebirth of two souls. Reeru placed two wooden rings near the fire, then looked at Ooba with a smile. The wind blew gently as Reeru sat near the sacred fire. She crossed her legs, back straight, eyes closed. Ooba knelt behind her and picked up the razor. He dipped the blade in warm oil and looked at Reeru’s wild hair.
“This will be our beginning,” he said. The blade touched her scalp. A soft scrape. A patch of hair fell. Reeru smiled as he continued slowly — shaving clean, gentle strokes. They talked in whispers, remembering the goddesses who saved them, the clan they lost, the love they found. Hair fell onto the earth, mixing with the ashes. When the last stroke was done, her scalp shone in the firelight. The sacred ash was applied on her head. After the sacred head shave, Ooba and Reeru became husband and wife in the eyes of all three goddess blessings.
Began exploring every untouched corner of the heavenly side of Namad Rabo Island. The saber tooth tiger, protector of the forest goddess, often rested at their new hut’s edge, silently guarding their peace. Reeru, with her freshly shaved head glistening in the sun, looked radiant — playful and bold. Ooba couldn’t take his eyes or hands off her, often tracing his fingers gently over her scalp and whispering how powerful and beautiful she looked. They would laugh, chase each other near waterfalls, lie under giant glowing leaves.
Whenever they found a cozy warm spot — behind the fire trees, under the cliff shade, or inside their hut — they’d sink into each other’s arms, intimating physically and emotionally. Reeru, cheeky and glowing, would tease him about their future warriors, and Ooba would lift her up with a grin, whispering, “Let our clan begin.” One cool evening, near the mountain cliff, they lay breathless after another intimacy, Reeru resting her head on Ooba’s chest. The breeze hummed softly. Reeru giggled
She whispered, “I think… we made life.” Ooba looked at her, confused, until she pulled a tiny tribal herb stone from her pouch and placed it over her palm — the ancient Siviya way to detect new life. As it turned faint blue, Ooba’s eyes widened, heart pounding. “We… we are having a baby?” he asked, trembling with joy. Reeru nodded, her eyes misty. He gently pulled her closer, his hand moving over her smooth scalp in slow strokes. They spoke about names, what kind of tree their child would first touch, Their dreams stretched deep into the night.
