Long Hair, Oil and English

The other day, Hubby came home with a little plant in a plastic container. One of his patients had given it to him as a gift. He crushed a leaf and held it under my nose and said, "See this thing. It has such tiny green leaves, but such a strong spicy smell. " The spicy scent hit me like a shot. I exclaimed "Arre, it's marwaah."

In a nanosecond I was transported back to my childhood in Belgaum. I saw us girls sitting in the courtyard on warm summer evenings and weaving long colourful garlands with yellow, pink, white koranti flowers interspersed with tiny marwaah twigs. Fingers worked nimbly weaving the stalks of flowers together without the aid of threads or needles. And then those fragrant garlands adorned long hair plaited after a generous application of coconut oil.

Today, when I look at myself in the mirror, I see a smart short haircut. Heaven forbid that even a strand should look oily! A slight 'chipku' look will mean a major gaffe. How much appearances have changed and how much we judge and are judged on the basis of how we look!

Don't get me wrong, I like myself the way I am now. But, sometimes, I wish a smart haircut had less to do with what's in and more with personal likes. That people didn't look surprised to hear a woman in salwar kameez and sporting a long plait speak in fluent english. That wearing a sari didn't automatically invite a label of 'Aunty'. That being typically 'Indian' was not perceived as being less progressive or hip.