Sana Ali
Sana finally picked up her niqab and covered her face before putting on her black gloves. She checked herself in the mirror to ensure she was properly covered. Even on hot summer days, she made it a point to dress modestly before leaving the house, ensuring that no male could see her.
Taking her car keys, Sana started to drive, even though there was still time before school let out. She preferred to arrive early and wait outside so her daughters, Haya (7 years old) and Eman (12 years old), wouldn’t have to wait in the scorching sun.
As Sana stopped her car in front of the school gate, she checked her watch. “Great, there’s still half an hour until school is over,” she said, glancing in the rear-view mirror to confirm that no cars were behind her.
As the minutes ticked by, more cars began to line up, and numerous girls started to walk out. Sana spotted Haya holding Eman’s hand as they made their way to the gate. Suddenly, a woman blocked her view and glared at her.
“If your kid isn’t here yet, then you should move,” the woman said, annoyance etched on her face.
“But I came here first,” Sana replied, trying to defend her position.
“So? That doesn’t give you the right to hold up the line,” the woman retorted, pointing to the cars behind her.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. My daughters—”
“Your daughters can wait, like all the other girls. Come on, move your car!”
Sana attempted to negotiate, but the woman began banging on the car roof and shouting. As others noticed, they started to honk, adding pressure on Sana to move.
“If you cared about others, you would have moved by now! GO TO THE BACK!!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sana murmured, feeling overwhelmed. She reluctantly drove her car to the back of the long line, catching a glimpse of her daughters at the gate as she moved.
The line inched forward slowly, and after about an hour, Sana finally reached the gate again. She saw her daughters still waiting in their school uniforms and hijabs, their heavy school bags weighing them down.
The girls looked tired from standing in the sun, and the drive home was quiet. Sana felt a pang of guilt for her daughters, stemming from her own submissive nature and inability to speak up.
To lighten the mood, she feigned excitement and said, “Are both of you ready to go to the salon?”
The girls looked up and nodded.
“I was thinking we could all get our hair trimmed today. What do you girls think?”
Eman hesitated before asking, “Mommy, can I please get my hair cut a bit shorter?”
“Why? Did something happen?” Sana inquired, concerned.
“The girls at school tease me. They say I look like a horse with a tail,” Eman replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sana smiled gently. “They must be joking. You have such beautiful hair.”
Eman: But mommy, they pull my braid and make me wake.
Sana: Ok, tomorrow I’ll tie your hair up so they don’t do it again.
Eman, who was also a miniature version of her mother, so she went quite knowing that arguing is of no use.
They kept driving through the streets in their old car to make their way to the salon.
As they got out of the car, the girls faces and backs were covered in sweat. Trying to wipe their faces with their hands, they followed their mother to the 1st floor, where the salon was located.
Before entering the salon, “Girls, this is a very expensive salon, so please don’t play around and do as you are told.” Sana explains the girls.
Both the girls nodded in agreement and said that they would do as told. As Sana pushes the glass door, a strong, sweet smell of perfume and hair products hits them with the cold wind.
As the trio starts to walk in, “Mommy, it smells so nice,” says Haya.
“Welcome to…Bliss and Beauty,” says the receptionist with confusion. (The receptionist was a bit chubby, with shoulder-length hair with blonde highlights.)
Most of their customers are very fashionable and modern, but looking at the trio in their plain traditional clothes, the receptionist thought of them being in the wrong place.
The girls quickly sat on the plush couch, and Sana made her way to the receptionist while removing her niqab and revealing her sweat-covered face.
Sana: Asalam Alaikum. I was hoping all three of us could get a trim.
Receptionist who was still gluing her eyes with a mixed-up face (from the smell of their sweat and appearance shock): “Do you have an appointment?”
Sana: No, I was hoping, as it’s just a trim, so I wouldn’t want an appointment.
Receptionist: Well, unfortunately we don’t have any openings, but if you want a trim here, then you would have to wait at least an hour as we are fully booked.
Sana: Oh! It’s ok. We can wait.
Sana turns around and sits on the couch with her daughters. Just as she sat, “I’m afraid you would need to stand at the back (pointing to the stuffy area under the AC), the receptionis said.
Sana: But there are plenty of seats empty.
Receptionist: We need to keep them empty for the customers with appointments, don’t we?
Finally, after waiting for an hour while standing in the corner, Sana and her daughters kept shifting their weight from one foot to another.
A girl walks into the waiting area no more than in her early 20s dressed in red high heels, white denim pants, and a black t-shirt, milky white skin, piercing grey eyes, and her shoulder-length straight black hair in a high ponytail.
The girl scans the waiting room and locks her eyes on the trio and walks to them on with a smile. “Hi, I’m Simra, are you the one waiting for the trim” her voice was sweet but her eyes were filled with pure evil.
Sana: Yes all three of us want a trim.
Simra: Great! Please follow me.
As the trio starts to follow Smira they noticed a mischievous smile and a nod between Smira and the receptionist.
As they enters the work area Simra sits down in her styling chair and says in a sweet but commanding tone “let’s see what you three are hiding under those… Hijabs, Come on take them off”
Sana signals her daughters to take off their hijabs and turns to show their hair.
As they reviled their extremely long hair, for a second Simra’s face was frozen as she gets up from the chair to see.
Smira quickly shakes it off and regains her senses.
Smira: Hmm, they are ok. So how much are you thinking of getting it cut off.
Sana: I was hoping to get a trim of not more then an inch.
Simar: Fine, sit. (her face was mixed with disappointment and annoyed, as if a kid have broken it favourite toy) You two go and wait there (points to the corner of the far end of the working area)
Sana starts to sit and the girls were made to stand in the corner again.
Smira picks up a plain white cape sheet and whisks it open spreading to cover Sana from neck to bottom and ties it tightly around her neck making sure that the rough fabric of the sheet digs into her skin and keeping her uncomfortable.
Sana: Simar it’s bit tight… Can you… (says while poking her finger from under the cape to adjust the sheet)
Simra : Your such a baby. (Simra opens the knot and ties it bit more tightly then before) Happy?
Sana who didn’t wanted to upset Simra spreads a fake uncomfortable smile on her face.
“Great” Says Simra as she starts to open Sana’s braid and starts to comb it.
“sss, Aaa, eee” winches Sana as Simra kept combing roughly , pulling the knots in the hair. “When was the last time you bushed your hair, A week ago, It’s a mess here” Says Simra still struggling on Sana’s hair ignoring the cries of Sana.
After combing for 10 minutes Simra throws the comb on the counter and slaps Sana’s head and scolds “If you have hair like this I don’t even think how bad your daughters’ hair would be”
“get up, come here” Simra says as she pulls Sana’s hand pulling her out of the chair and making her stand with her half combed ankle length hair, “Everyone look how bad her hair are.. I don’t understand why people like her can’t keep their hair manageable”
Simra: You wanted an inch to be trimmed.. Right?
Sana who’s face was read with embarrassment says in a meek voice “Yes”
Simra: Well that’s not possible, I would need to cut at least 2 feet off, just to make it manageable.
Before Sana could oppose Smira picks up the scissors and starts cutting uncombed hair and says “ After this I will see what I can work with”. Sana by now was feeling weak as Simra kept dominating the poor woman and hacking off the 3 feet hair and making Sana’s ankle length hair to the her waist.
Smira steps back and kept looking silently. Making Sana feel helpless and unaware how much have she cut.
“Hmm. I think I can work with that, Come sit now” says Smira with a hint of joy in her tone. Sana sits back down while trying her best to hold back her tears.
Simra: Now say which haircut you want.
“Please no it’s enough, I don’t want any haircut” Sana begs in shaking voice.
Simra: Non sense. Your not capable to maintain this length. Oh I know.
With that Simra picks up the spray bottle and starts to spray water and making Sana hair wet. She kept spraying till water was dripping from hair.
With swift and well practiced wrist movement she starts to section the hair and starts cutting again.
Long chunks of hair kept falling all around, everytime Sana would try to protest Simra would threaten her to cut even shorter.
Finally She stops and says “take a look” as Smita spins the chair and making Sana look her self in the mirror.
As Sana looks into the mirror she couldn’t control herself and burst into tears. Her hair with which she walked in just few minutes back were now in layers and reaching her mid back.
Simra: Oh it looks like you don’t like it. Not to worry I’ll make it shorter.
Without wasting a second Simra starts to cut the hair again. Tears kept rolling down out of Sana’s eyes her hair kept getting shorter with each snip.
Simra spins the chair this time making Sana face the other customers and her daughters. The weak girl felt humiliated under the piercing eyes of the customers enjoying her humiliation.
“ Doesn’t she looks much better then she walks in” says Simra as she finishes the cut.
Various comments and laughter could be heard from all the directions as Sana sat there helpless, under the dominance of Sirma .
A soft push to the chair made it spin and face the mirror showing Sana her new shoulder length hair.
Sana starts to cry as she saw almost all her pride was cut off leaving her with a messy shoulder length straight cut.
Simra puts her hand on Sana’s shoulder and speaks in a childish tone “ What happened didn’t you like your new look”
Sana trained to speak but due to her cries she didn’t made any sense.
“Just sit here, I got the perfect thing for you” Says Simra as she pets Sana’s head as she walks away into the back room..
On return Simra was carrying a bowl with brush in one hand and a black latex cape folded in other hand.
Simra places the bowl down in front of Sana, showing the thick smelly paste. With an well practiced wrists movement, the black shiny cape opens and spreads all around it’s victim and covers her completely from the neck below and closes it even more tightly above the already tied cape.
“Oh you almost look like you will cry now” says simra as she pulls the cape even tightly before closing it “are you”
Tears starts to roll down from Sana’s eye as she says in a meek voice “No, I won’t”
“Good girl” says Simra as she picks up the bowl and starts mixing the paste right in front of Sana’s face. Forcing her to smell the strong fumes of the thick paste. “Let’s get started then, shall we”
Simra puts on rubber gloves and starts to apply the paste on Sana’s shoulder length black hair. Covering each hair in the paste and making sure that they rest on Sana’s head in a thick pile and then takes the foil and wraps her hair, wrapping the foil in the shape of a dunce cap and moves back.
“One final touch and then you can wait while you standing” says Simra as she picks up a marker and writes stupid in a vertical form on the foil.
“All set now go and stand there” says Simra in a demanding voice and points to the big bulb I’m the centre of the salon.
Sana who sat there with tears rolling down her cheeks, with her hair covered in paste and a shiny dunce cape on her head was made to get up and walk under the big bulb.
Hope you guys enjoy part 1.
