Part 2 after my haircut —- The Tirupathi mottaiiii

After weeks of teasing from my first haircut, my hair finally grew back to normal.
For the first time in months, I felt like a regular schoolboy again.
No buzzing sides, no weird comments, no embarrassment—just normal hair and normal life.
But destiny had different plans.
✦ The Unexpected Tirupathi Plan
One evening, out of nowhere, my mom entered my room and said:
“Akshai… rendu naal la namma Tirupathi pogrom.”
(“Akshai… in two days our family is going to Tirupathi.”)
The word Tirupathi hit me like a shock.
A mild spark of fear and excitement mixed inside me.
Because Tirupathi always carries one hidden possibility:
Mottai.
I didn’t ask anything.
I just nodded.
But the suspense stayed.
The next night, just as I finished packing, my mom stood near the door and asked casually:
“Akshai… un mudiya mottai pannalama?”
(“Shall we shave your head there?”)
I froze.
My hair had just become normal.
With full shyness and worry, I said:
“Amma… ippo dhaan mudi normal aagiduchi… venam.”
(“Mom… my hair just became normal… I don’t want to.”)
My dad came in and said:
“Avanoda ishtam dhaan. Force panna venam.”
(“It’s his wish. Don’t force him.”)
The topic ended.
Or so I thought.
✦ The Night Journey — A Battlefield Inside My Mind
We began the trip at midnight.
Driver uncle drove; my family slept in the back.
I sat alone in the front seat.
The cold night breeze brushed my short hair and my mind became hyperactive.
Dad’s mottai was confirmed.
But mine?
My brain kept fighting itself:
“Panna vendiyadha?”
(“Should I do it?”)
“Pannalama?”
(“Should I?”)
“Pannakudadha??”
(“Should I NOT?”)
As we climbed the Tirumala hills, I looked at the huge spinning windmills outside, slowly turning in the moonlight.
Their rotation felt exactly like the circles of confusion inside my head.
One moment I convinced myself NO.
Next moment I imagined a shining mottai with sandal paste.
I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t think straight.
My heart beat in sync with every turn of the hill.
✦ The Parking Lot of Mottai Heads
We reached the top around 3 AM.
I opened the car door — the cold mountain air slapped my face.
But the real shock?
Mottai heads everywhere.
Women with shining bald heads.
College girls with thick sandal paste.
Men rubbing their fresh clean scalps.
Kids running around touching their smooth heads.
Every direction — shiny, glowing scalps.
I touched my hair automatically.
A wave of nervous excitement shot through me.
My mom smiled quietly.
She didn’t speak.
But that one smile said:
“Mottai feeling varudha?”
(“Feeling the pull?”)
I didn’t answer.
Because the truth?
Yes.
A strange pull was forming.
✦ The Token Queue — The Life-Changing Moment
We walked to the tonsure hall.
The token queue was PACKED with families waiting for their turn.
Inside the hall, I could hear:
“Schrrkk… schrrkk…”
—the razor sound echoing like a heartbeat.
When we reached the counter, my dad asked:
“Oru mottai token kudunga.”
(“Give one headshave token.”)
My breath stopped.
The staff tore a single token.
And suddenly…
without warning…
without thinking…
I blurted out:
“Nillunga… naanum mottai podren!”
(“Wait… I will also shave my head!”)
Everything froze.
My mom’s face lit up with happiness.
My sister exploded with laughter:
“DAIII! Puchu mottai VARUDHU!”
(“BROOO! Baby mottai is coming!”)
Even dad smiled proudly.
He turned and said:
“Rendu token kudunga.”
(“Give two tokens.”)
And that was it.
My decision was FINAL.
The confusion that tortured me for hours…
vanished in one second.
✦ Inside the Tonsure Hall — The Transformation
My mom and sister waited outside.
Dad and I entered the men’s shaving hall.
It was loud.
Chaotic.
Wet floors.
Buckets everywhere.
People sitting topless.
Hair falling in handfuls.
We went to my dad’s usual barber.
The barber greeted him:
“Vanga anna… rendu peruma?”
(“Welcome brother… two today?”)
Dad said:
“Aama. Ivanu kooda.”
(“Yes. Him too.”)
The barber smiled knowingly at me.
He said:
“Shirt eduthuttu ukkarunga.”
(“Remove your shirt and sit.”)
Dad removed his shirt without hesitation.
I removed mine slowly, shyly, feeling the cold air on my chest.
Dad said softly:
“Nee ukkaru first… naan apparam.”
(“You sit first… I’ll sit after.”)
My heart jumped.
But I nodded.
I sat on the shaving platform.
✦ The Five-Minute Mottai
The barber didn’t wait.
SPLASH!
Ice-cold water crashed onto my head.
I shivered so hard he laughed:
“Kuluru thambi… adjust aagidum.”
(“Cold brother… you’ll adjust soon.”)
He massaged my scalp strongly, taking full control of my head.
I watched him load a new blade.
Click.
My stomach twisted.
He tilted my head and placed the razor.
“Schrrkk…”
The first thick line of hair fell.
I inhaled sharply.
Cold air touched the fresh skin immediately.
He continued—top, sides, back—swift, confident strokes.
More water.
More hair falling.
More smoothness.
More shivers.
In just five minutes, he tapped my shoulder and said:
“Aachu thambi… complete clean mottai.”
(“Done brother… full clean shave.”)
I lifted my head…
And touched my scalp.
My hand slipped across smooth, soft, new skin.
A warm shock ran through me.
I loved the feeling instantly.
Dad sat for his shave next while I kept rubbing my mottai, unable to stop.
✦ The Reactions Outside
We walked out.
Mom held her breath and touched my head:
“Semma clean mottai da… super aa irukku.”
(“Such a clean shave… looks great.”)
My sister laughed so loud people turned:
“Dai BULB! Un thalai la torch light off pannuda!”
(“Hey BULB! Switch off the light on your head!”)
I blushed deep red.
But I secretly loved the attention.
✦ The Mirror Moment
Just beside the hall entrance, there was a long metal mirror.
I walked toward it, still rubbing my head.
When I saw my reflection…
I froze.
My shiny bald head reflected the lights.
My face looked different—cleaner, brighter.
My eyebrows looked sharper.
My scalp glowed with tiny water droplets.
I turned my head slowly.
The shine followed.
I smiled… shy, small, but full.
I LOVED my mottai.
✦ Bath & Sandal Paste
We went to the bath area.
Cold water hit my scalp directly—no hair to protect it.
I felt every drop.
After bathing, a volunteer applied a thick layer of sandhana podi paste on my head.
Ice-cold.
Smooth.
Calming.
My sister shouted:
“Ice cream cone maari irukka da!”
(“You look like an ice cream cone!”)
Mom tapped her arm:
“Viduu… romba cute aa irukkan.”
(“Leave him… he looks very cute.”)
✦ Darshan — The Peace After the Shave
With sandal paste cooling my entire head, we joined the darshan queue.
The inside of the temple was quiet, divine, and filled with chanting.
I stood there bare-headed, cool air touching my scalp, sandal scent surrounding me.
When we finally reached in front of the deity…
I closed my eyes.
Every moment rushed through me—
the confusion,
the fear,
the token line,
the cold water,
the razor strokes,
the smoothness,
the teasing,
the mirror moment.
My heart felt light.
Clean.
New.
That darshan with a fresh mottai felt like the purest moment of the entire trip.
✦ The Tamil Family We Met
After darshan, as we exited, we met a random Tamil family.
Their daughter—my age—also had a fresh, shining mottai with sandal paste.
She noticed me touching my head repeatedly and laughed:
“Neeyum thalaiya thottikitey irukkiya? Naanum adhe.”
(“You’re also touching your head nonstop? Same here.”)
I laughed shyly:
“First time mottai… feeling different aa irukku.”
(“First time mottai… feels different.”)
She smiled:
“Nalla irukku… clean aa pannirukaanga.”
(“It looks good… very clean shave.”)
I said:
“Ungalodadhu kooda romba smooth aa irukku.”
(“Yours is also very smooth.”)
Her younger brother teased her, she teased him back,
and both families ended up chatting happily.
Before leaving, the uncle said:
“Contact vechirukalam… inimey vara vara trips-la meet aagalam.”
(“Let’s stay in touch… maybe we’ll meet in future trips.”)
We exchanged numbers—
just friendly families bonding on a sacred day.
She waved lightly:
“Happy journey!”
I waved back:
“Thanks… same to you.”
✦ The Zoo Visit — The Burning Sun
On the way downhill, we visited the zoo.
By then, the afternoon sun was BLASTING.
I had no cap.
My fresh mottai became a solar panel.
The sunlight burned my scalp so much that I kept rubbing it.
My sister burst out laughing:
“Un thalai la light glitter aagudhu! People are getting blinded!”
(“Your head is glittering! People are getting blinded!”)
Even mom laughed.
I half-suffered, half-enjoyed.
Because the burning sun made my mottai shine like gold.
✦ School — The Great Mottai Festival
The next day at school, the teasing started the moment I stepped inside:
“DAIIII! Mottai Akshai!”
(“BROOO! Bald Akshai!”)
Friends tapped my head.
Some called me “bulb.”
Some joked “solar panel.”
Girls giggled.
Boys laughed.
Even my teacher joined:
“Ayyoo! This is too much! I told you haircut… you went full Tirupathi mode?”
(“Ayyoo! I asked for a haircut… you went full Tirupathi!”)
Everyone laughed.
I turned full red.
But inside…
something else happened.
I silently smiled.
Because deep in my heart…
I loved my mottai.
Loved the smoothness.
Loved the shine.
Loved the teasing.
Loved the peace.
Loved the memory.
I acted shy…
But secretly?
I was the happiest I had ever been.

+4