I was chanting in joy rushing out of the college gate, finally The Great Depression was over and now returning home was not a distant dream anymore. Having a far-sighted vision, I was well aware about the bus timings. So without wasting any time I was back on the sail towards my Westroes.
It was a surprise visit, I was curious more than ever, and how They’re gonna react. I pressed the bell icon, instead of a notification my Mom came arising from the silhouette to open the door. For the first moment she was stunned and enthusiastic seeing her two luggage bags returning home beside me, but as soon as I marched closer and the candle light exposed my face, her smile faded a bit(that was the moment I really should’ve got alerted). Nevertheless I got entry and it was a great hospitality for the holiday King.
I was enjoying my FIFA on the couch just when the Parents came off and our chatting got a take-off. We’re mid air when a sudden remark struck me ‘look at your face’. I was like ww..what, it’s normal. And the gears shifted, “Your hairs are bit longer.. may be ..should get a haircut”. Before I could react, it was mom’s jerk “I’ll get you wake up early in the morning, then go to saloon”. For the moment I squeezed out very bit of that advice through my other ear and used that energetic monosyllable “Hao” and got back on Benzema to assist Ronaldo.
( .. on Full Time, we lost in the penalties *sigh*)
So next day, as the sun was rising up in the east, I was getting cozy under my blanket in the north. Mom tried to snatch it, but I was determined to not give my Kashmir back. Finally after 1-2 hours of begging and crying for extra time loans, I woke up like champ. I knew its late and I wont be compelled to go to the Hair Temple.
I was silently triumphing over my minute victory as little did I know, this was going to be charged under the Family Blasphemy Act, (My Birth Year).
I was summoned at the dining table, every foreign eye gazing my innocent face and scaling the length of my black hairs. Within seconds, I was confronting the King, and he was obviously unhappy with my happy decision and turned his face in swift but a hostile manner.
Later Mom came and asked why I’m disobeying them.. whats the problem with just a haircut. Damn ! that’s my dialogue, I desired to ask the same.. why creating such a mess for those pathetic loose threads.
But my thoughts fall deaf ears inside the ring, on the other side Mom was ready to grapple me with the Finishing Move. What I saw were the two almost moist eyes aiming me and whispering something at low decibel frequencies. I’ve been victim of this weapon earlier also from time to time and knew the end is near coz its gonna be R.I.P. for my hairs.
Being the ‘yours obediently’ guy, I ought to choose Parents Pavilion and dumping my Hair Dream to other side of aisle. Finally the dream of being a dude with swag got murdered and with that came a popping invitation to fetch my hairs to that barbarian shop .
So you think its a cakewalk from here and I’ll let my disciples get martyred in this War Of Succession. Its not so EASY..
A wise man once said , ” If you’re passionate enough, just sail through, your shore will come closer. “
So stay Witty.. stay tuned,
What’s gonna happen with the poor hairs, coming up in the next part !!
© 2017 WittyAyJ
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