January 30, 2010
How Do You Wear Your Hair?
Do you wear it long or short? Curly or straight? How do you like dyeing your hair? What about a highlight? These are the questions that played on my mind as I waited for my turn in the salon.
How often do you go to the salon? Do you always have bad-hair days?
Although I'm blessed to be living in a city where there are more than one salon in every block and very cheap, too, still I seldom go. I always have that nerves when sitting on the salon chair. I'm just not a risk-taker when it comes to my hair.
My hair is my DH's stress indicator. He would know when I'm stressed by the way my hair behaves and he always reminds me to go to the salon and have a hair treatment but I seldom comply. Recently I went to have my hair done, paid 2USD and was satisfied. The couple who run the salon kept telling me how my hair was damaged and needed rebonding (which is a hit here). That's not the kind of sales talk that will make me pay 30USD. If they said "Look, you would pay for clothes this much which you would only wear occasionally, how much for a hair which you would wear 24 hours everyday!", maybe that would convince me.
But this post is not about my hair. It's about my friend whose hair story I would never forget.
Mary knocked on my door one day. As soon as I opened the door, she dropped her head on my shoulder and sobbed. "I don't have hair anymore!", she told me crying heartily. I ran my fingers on her head scarf and felt the pricks of what was left on her head.
Maybe you're wondering now what happened to her hair. Can you pause reading and made a guess? See if you got it right.
Mary kept her hair like a treasure. Her hair never touched with scissors since her birth. It was beautiful: straight, black and shiny. But only very close relatives saw her hair because she was told since she was young that covering her hair/head would be her ticket to heaven. So, she kept her head scarf faithfully.
One time, the campus where we both lived, made a law to not allow any women in campus to wear head scarves. Mary was a senior in college and she was torn between her faith and future. And the only way for her to save both is to shave off her hair. She did and it was ugly so the school officials allowed her to keep her hair covered. Smart, huh? But you surely can imagine her agony while shaving her hair.
She cried and mourned and I don't know for how long. But what can I say? "Don't worry, it will soon grow". That's the best line I could make that time. Oh, how much I miss her now.
If you want to know more about Mary, please click here:Friendship Without Barriers.