It was every Desi’s nightmare I was told, when I landed here. But somehow I seemed to have sidestepped it. Rather, I had been amply warned to be able to avoid it. So my decent Indian haircut, albeit ancient prevailed for a few months/haircuts.
But last Monday was a day of mood swings. Monday morning, I decided I was sick and hence decided to stay at home. Was a wonderful day. Got up late. Read a book for a while. Watched some TV. Cooked. Slept. And then, it happened.
At around 4 I decided to go out for a walk. The idea was to go the the City Library. There was some talk on some obscure topic that seemed interesting at that point in time. Anyways, the fact is I never got to the library that day.
On my way there it started drizzling. And all of a sudden, I felt I had a little too much hair on my head. I guess that was when I decided it was time to visit the Barber.
I should have realized the minute I got there that things weren’t going the way they were supposed to. The sweet chick in the shop, had been replaced by some guy. I am pretty much certain that that was when I lost interest in the haircut altogether. Or may be it was the temptation to go for a haircut I wouldn’t want to have back home.
My usually lengthy explanation of the type of haircut I wanted was replaced by a just a number. I was given a choice of 1 to 4. 1 being the shortest and 4 being the longest.
I chose 4. Whats left on my head now is the remnants of my battle with number 4. :)
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