Sunday, April 11, 2010

The route of my hand to wash the face has taken a different shape. Before it was almost in circle and with the coming of prominent forehead it has become an elliptical shape. I have to raise my hand way up to the head holding little water in the cusp of palm. The distance between the captut of eye brows and my prominent head is long and rough. By the time my hand reaches the balding line I will be left with little water to splash. Then there is the smoothness of thin layer of skin covering the thick headed skull containing the encephalon of brain. The sluggish old brain must be cold without the hairs in the head and as if taking revenge it has already slowed down in functioning. Few whiskers that remained in the head catch only dust and dirt. Once my head was a home for blood sucking fleas that shed lots of dandruff and scalps and now it is a spendthrift thief consuming soap and cream.

Staring in the mirror and eyes fixed above my eye brows I thought how lucky I am to marry a woman who has lots of hair in her head. Even if curly and crinkled in nature and even if she becomes another spendthrift thief to straightened her hair I still admire her head. Sleeping beside her and eyes gazed at the ceiling I stroke her wavy hair wishing if I too have those hairs. As much my landlord cannot let me occupy the flat without paying him the rent I can neither borrow nor buy her hairs. Both can be tagged as stubborn for the similar character taxed in my life. And now the balding head comes as an evil taxing on my limited budget and time. I have not kept the record of creams I used but I know the expansion of skin in my head is definitely pinching my wallet. I can save from hair oil but I have not used it before and I still do not use. Ah! This must be the reason why they started to uproot from me. I heard people talking about the holy water which blesses the people and has a curing content. So I took their advice and left to the place of holy water to get blessed with new bush of hair.

It was crowded with people in queue to wash from the holy water. I joined the line and waited for my turn. I saw the people washing their faces, drinking, praying and filling the empty containers. I should have carried at least a vessel but it was no use repenting. So I started to strip off my upper half and when my turn came, I bent below the fluxing water wetting my head. The upper part of the head must have been distinctly visible to the people from the titter they made. I considered them lucky to see my bald because though it belongs to me I have not seen how my rear head has taken the shape. I prayed for the last time to bless me with fresh set of hair, sprinkled the water over my head and left with a new hope.

Searching for the new growth I stared in the mirror. A fine line has been formed. The water must have done the magic. I took a closer step and inspected thoroughly only to notice new landscaping from the recent loss.


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