We all remember watching the Disney movie Tangled and falling in love with either Eugene Fitzherbert, Eugene Fitzherbert’s sarcasm and charm. But let’s face it, NO one, literally no one, can have that long hair AND achieve to manage it that gorgeously. The main problem goes as to how she combed her long hair (excluding the illusion of climbing on her ceiling’s bars). And even if she did, the main question every girl (and or boy) asks is
“What is the secret to keeping your tips from being rough and looking like branches?”
And this doesn’t just apply to girls. Beards, long mustaches and an occasional tiny pony near your hind brain (or chota dimaag) is the new trend with young men these days. And they will relate to everything I have to say about the fur on our head.
First things first, your scalp is never perfect. It’s either too oily or dry with dandruff falling like snowflakes on your desk (Shameless reference to ‘The Breakfast Club’). And I don’t know how most girls do it nowadays-but hey, buns?? Mine either look like a small egg is trapped in my skull or like a horizontal skyscraper. And it goes without saying that you wouldn’t get that glossy & flowing hair overnight with the help of conditioners. You need to adapt to a change & change your hair routine, as naturally as you can.
And college students have to deal with horrible furniture provided by their “development funds” from the college already. Our tresses make it even harder by getting stuck in the smallest of crevices in the wooden abyss. I know I have been caught with a usual pen or a wooden chip in my hair. My reaction?-
“Oh, Hi there little fella… I seriously have to consider going bald”
I have seen friends with fries in their beards and ice cream sprinkles in their mustaches. They have chosen to wax their face from that incident onward. And lending someone something which does not even remotely come near your hair, like your shoes, and finding your strands just ready to strangle the blood supply to their toes, is equally embarrassing. Websites like instash are helping men in deciding between the various shavers present in the market and helping them make the right choice for their facial hair and skin.
And do not, I repeat, do not sit in an auto rickshaw with your hair open. I repeat, Abort Mission. The auto rickshaw (or the Rick) might look like a three sided enclosed space. But the structure is such that all the wind that is possibly there on earth will be directed towards your hair. Physics, eh? You will either have hair in your mouth, ear and nose or they’ll be stuck on your lip gloss. It probably leaves you wondering “What the hell just happened?”
This is all about hair which falls till your shoulders. What about long hair? To tie it in a bun, you’ve to twist and turn your hair into infinite loops until your arms tire. And if the hair tie is too loose, forget it. Someone’s asking you a doubt? Your hands are twisting your hair. You want to eat something? Twist! Teacher calls out your name to ask you a question, fucking twist that hair around some more hair.
There are also brave hearted people who courageously grow hair till their butts. Or even ankles! Seat’s too dirty? No problem, they have a personal carpet. Feeling hot? Wave hair in Punjabi Kudi style. And need some drama in life? Turn around in a filmy way and wait for another half an hour for your hair to make the turn in slow motion. Inertia is a bitch.
The main question which has always been on my mind is, how do people with long hair sleep? One of my friends (Yes, she had hair till her hips) answered : “We just tie it in a bun and the advantage is that we don’t need a pillow.”
How?… What?… Why?
I mean … How??
What if the tie gets loose and your hair is strangling your neck at night and you die? That’s a pretty scary nightmare to have. Or worse, what if it gets a lot of knots and you’ve to rip half your hair in the morning to untangle them? Well, in that case I find my personal solution: Do not comb hair until it looks like you belong in a tribe.
Every morning, I look up in the mirror to that juda of rough, wire like hair, attempting to overtake my fears of complete frustration, and I end up losing a huge battle to my laziness. Instead I tie it up in a bun (the egg in my skull or the Eiffel Tower), and walk proud to college.
I may have lost the battle today, but I am not alone. I see girls, and boys, and occasionally teachers with that look of loss in their eyes, but yet tinges of satisfaction of not going bald that morning.
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