The hairy tales

Yes, we’ve all heard of fairy tales. So, how about some hairy tales? Here is a warning, though. Unlike fanciful fables, accounts of scattered hair can instantly usher us back to reality. More often than not, hairy tales are about hair fall and hair loss, the consequence of which is thinning and balding. That’s quite worrisome, indeed. But that is a different issue. As a homemaker, in this write-up, I will be alluding to the trail of clutter left behind by the fallen tresses. In my house, strands of hair are omnipresent, so to speak. From the deepest closets to the most superficial surfaces, no spot is devoid of the so-called dark tufts.

The more you clean, the more gets shed and accumulates. And if the floor is plain and light in colour like ours, their presence is even more exaggerated. You can find strands of distinct colours, sizes, and textures in my house—short and stiff male hair belonging to my husband and son; short grey ones of the cat that constantly wanders in and around our house; long black ones that would either be mine or my daughter’s. However varied they might be, there is one thing in common among them all. Being light and flimsy, they have figured out the trick to escaping the conventional modes of cleaning. So, even after extensive sweeping and swabbing, tufts of hair continue to exist.

Essentially, as it is claimed, just as in fairy tales, females play a major role in the realm of hairy tales too. Beautiful girls in fairy tales are always portrayed with thick, wavy tresses. But they are graceful as long as they are on the head and not otherwise, for obvious reasons. Like an instance where my sister hosted an all-girls’ Halloween party in her house. All was fun until the next morning, when she laid her eyes on the overwhelming litter of hair in every direction of the spacious hall.

My aunt, who runs music classes, has had similar experiences as well, and she has taken certain measures for prevention. Actually, the girl students with long hair are strictly instructed to tie it up neatly, as most of them choose to let their hair down nowadays. A tray of rubber bands is placed at the entrance for those who make an excuse for not having one. How thoughtful of her and convenient for the students—for her and, in turn, the maid who cleans up after them—isn’t it? “It sounds simple, but it is an effective plan,” she reassures.

I can go on with such stories. But by this time, you must have figured out that fairy tales are far better than these lifeless, hairy tales that lead you nowhere.