Monday, March 31, 2008
Goldilocks, the glamorous
I have always been beset by wild dreams that seldom achieve fruition. By a rare quirk of fate, however, one of my long term life ambitions was recently fulfilled. Some people aspire to get into high positions in life. Some aspire to lead a good life. I however, aspired solely to colour my hair a completely unpleasant shade of dark blue.
This was achieved by me recently when I went out to try and get my hair coloured so that I'd look cool in my sister's marriage. Needless to say, I was the cynosure of all eyes. The first inclination of trouble, however, came when my own mother mistook me for the coffee delivery boy and ordered me to deliver coffee to the guests. And soon, I ended up in a frantic search for the bride's brother so that he could be present to perform his share of the rites. When at last everyone realized that the bride's brother was searching for himself, a great cataclysm occurred because Arun M had become engulfed in great paroxysms of laughter.
The second incident of note occurred when my girlfriend walked straight past me and engulfed Navneeth in a big bear hug. In hindsight however, this was to be expected because Navneeth traditionally sports a huge tuft of hair striped alternatively in brigt yellow and deep purple. This time however he had come in his normal hair-colour in a decent cut, and I, being the broad-minded person that I am, forgave that.
The third incident that's worth mentioning is that my girlfriend continued the embrace of Navneeth even after realizing the mix up.
I realised things weren't going well when the cleaner at the dining hall dipped my head into the washing solution and started wiping the floor clean, having mistaken the blue coloured tuft atop my head for one of those fancy brightly coloured mop-sticks. Not funny at all. They should stop manufacturing such mop-sticks to prevent such mix-ups.
Sundar came in the evening and he being the kind, gentle-mannered person that he is, gently pointed out that the hair on top of my head now looked like Cthulu. I of-course, declined to admit to the veracity of his statement, and continued about my business with my head held.. well, not exactly high, because my hair weighed me down, but in some semblance of an high-held head that I could manage from the two inches below knee height that my head was constantly positioned at.
Well, I don't care what people tell about me. After all, I didn't give a damn when people remarked about the mohican I wore back in second year.
This was achieved by me recently when I went out to try and get my hair coloured so that I'd look cool in my sister's marriage. Needless to say, I was the cynosure of all eyes. The first inclination of trouble, however, came when my own mother mistook me for the coffee delivery boy and ordered me to deliver coffee to the guests. And soon, I ended up in a frantic search for the bride's brother so that he could be present to perform his share of the rites. When at last everyone realized that the bride's brother was searching for himself, a great cataclysm occurred because Arun M had become engulfed in great paroxysms of laughter.
The second incident of note occurred when my girlfriend walked straight past me and engulfed Navneeth in a big bear hug. In hindsight however, this was to be expected because Navneeth traditionally sports a huge tuft of hair striped alternatively in brigt yellow and deep purple. This time however he had come in his normal hair-colour in a decent cut, and I, being the broad-minded person that I am, forgave that.
The third incident that's worth mentioning is that my girlfriend continued the embrace of Navneeth even after realizing the mix up.
I realised things weren't going well when the cleaner at the dining hall dipped my head into the washing solution and started wiping the floor clean, having mistaken the blue coloured tuft atop my head for one of those fancy brightly coloured mop-sticks. Not funny at all. They should stop manufacturing such mop-sticks to prevent such mix-ups.
Sundar came in the evening and he being the kind, gentle-mannered person that he is, gently pointed out that the hair on top of my head now looked like Cthulu. I of-course, declined to admit to the veracity of his statement, and continued about my business with my head held.. well, not exactly high, because my hair weighed me down, but in some semblance of an high-held head that I could manage from the two inches below knee height that my head was constantly positioned at.
Well, I don't care what people tell about me. After all, I didn't give a damn when people remarked about the mohican I wore back in second year.
Labels: hair
# posted by raja @ 10:52 AM 
