#I'm having splitends, it occurs to me that I need a hair cut.
#Initially I'm too lazy about it. Then make up my mind to get it done, once & for three months.
#So one late-morning, I'm looking at myself in mirror, in a room that has too many mirrors and you know being able to see myself from all angles possible makes me conscious & sad
#And there is this person who's doing something with my hair, you know, spraying water all over my head and tucking my hair up. She is dumping precious information, which shampoo-which conditioner-ayurvedic-herbal-chemical-blahh-blah
#And there is this another woman I have been constantly listening to. She is fair and fat and has golden hair. And she wants her hair to be completely in sync with the white dress she was to be wearning that night. You know, she has got pins with pearls on them, and then she wants them do be done wonderfully-so on & so forth. I wonder!
#I'm done. My bill is exorbitant. But everything is okay when it's once in three months. Besides I love being paid attention to. Even if it's about being told which shampoo causes dandruff & which doesn't.
#Outside I see a group of black, skinny women, probably labourers in the construction nearby, cooking lunch and their stunted urchins doing rounds. Here no one is worried about her hair. There are things that mattered far more. I hear their laughter and again I wonder!
#This is India. & India continues to remain a first love.
-I often have a problem explaining people that I'm basically a random person. But how do I tell you, I just aM-