Hair Raising Tale - To do or Not to Do

Last year, a women’s organisation that I am a member of, launched a campaign for ‘Hair Donation’ for cancer patients. It struck a chord with me as it’s always been there on my bucket list to donate my hair for a good cause.

Alas, my short hair did not permit me to donate, so did the next best thing. Motivated a friend to donate instead. After her donation, I ruefully told her that I wish I could have done it too. She looked puzzled n said, “What’s stopping you, woman?? Grow that d**n hair and donate it." Such a simple solution and thence began my journey.

Growing hair should be easy… It's been happening on its own since I was born, so how difficult can it be? The difficulty lies not in growing it but developing patience as it grows to the desired length (min 6”, ideally 8”). Hair typically grows at 1/2” per month or so claimed Google Uncle. 16 months that’s it… very doable.

A month later, I was fighting the urge to cut it! A chance remark to the offspring about how difficult this is proving to be, got me no sympathy. Instead, with a shake of her head, she said, “Mom, give it up, it’s just not your cup of tea. Go for your trim.” Her words cut me deep and hardened my wavering resolve. After all, can’t fall in our kid’s eyes, can we?

Easier said than done. As the bob out-grew its length, the hair falling in my eyes was the first challenge. Too short to be tied, I thought I would have to choose between my sight or fulfilling my wish. Luckily, my eyes and my dream were saved by a friend introducing me to tik-tok hairpins (with no connection to the Chinese video making app)!

The trial continued. Everything was a reason to run to the saloon… the dry heat of September, the fortnight long holiday in October (how to wash my barely shoulder length “long” hair in cold weather); how to style it for the festive November; hair looks terrible with my beautiful silk saris for the December weddings, etc. My litany of complaints caused the long-suffering hubby to lose his hair :( 

When 2020 rolled up, I heaved a sigh of relief. Though only 9 months up, I felt now I was within the reach of my prized goal.  The lockdown this year was a game changer in many unexpected ways. With so many concerns lining our horizon, stresses over my hair tresses faded away. Forgotten and ignored, protected from the sun and city pollutants, my hair blossomed… ummm, grew. It seemed to benefit from all the home cooked meals, regular Yoga and exercise.

By the time the 2^nd lockdown was lifted, it was close to 7”! I danced with joy but decided to wait for the magical figure of 8”. Unfortunately for the hubby, the lifting of the lockdown also removed the embargo on my grumbles! My long hair went back to being the bane of his life. Too rough, too unmanageable, falling too much, too long, too frizzy, too gray, makes me look 'too aunty'… The man almost took off for the Himalayas.

I may seem to be making a big deal of it but ask any short haired lass… we really don’t know how to deal with long hair!

Couple of looong months later saw me at the end of my patience and knocking on my favourite saloon door. My stylist took one look at it and sent me packing with a flea in my ear! His words will resound forever: 'Do you want to donate for the sake of doing good or just to tick it off your bucket list? Wait few more months and then cut if you really want it to benefit someone.' I felt humbled; this advice came from a person whose business was hit like many other services but unwilling to compromise.

December being my anniversary month was  ideal to make this donation. The pleasure of what this hair would be used for outweighed the thrill of getting a new haircut after 20 months. So much so, that I told him to style it so that I could plan for another donation sometime in the future.

Maybe, in spite of all my grumbles, the heart is somewhere in the right place after all.