Once upon a Boy

OILING MY HAIR

On a cozy Sunday morning, the three of us decided to dedicate the day to a much-needed haircare session. As the rain drizzled outside, the atmosphere inside felt warm and inviting. Kanu, Teena, and I gathered in the living room, ready to indulge in a pampering experience.

Mom had laid out an array of hair oils, each with its unique fragrance and nourishing properties. We took turns selecting our favorite oils, each excited to begin this rejuvenating ritual. I chose an oil with a hint of lavender, the soothing scent enveloping me like a gentle breeze, like a flower swaying in the morning air.

Before we began, we decided to have a relaxing head bath to cleanse our hair. As we lathered up our hair with shampoo, the fresh scent filled the bathroom, like a bouquet of blooming flowers. The warm water cascading over my head felt soothing, like a gentle rain caressing each petal.

Once our hair was cleansed, we returned to the living room, our hair still damp and ready for the nourishing oils. Kanu poured the oils into her palm and began applying them to Teena's hair with loving care. Teena closed her eyes, relishing the sensation, like a flower surrendering to the tender touch of the sun.

As I observed Kanu's skilled hands, I couldn't help but marvel at the bond they shared. Teena's eyes opened, and she smiled affectionately at our mother. "Thank you, Mom. Your massages are the best," she said, her voice filled with love, like a flower expressing gratitude to the gardener.

With Teena's hair thoroughly oiled, it was my turn next. Mom's hands gently worked through my hair, massaging my scalp with a sense of nurturing affection, like a gardener tending to the delicate roots of a flower.

"Your hair is getting so long, Rohit," she remarked, her words laced with pride and admiration. "It looks beautiful."

I blushed, feeling a surge of happiness, like a flower basking in a shower of compliments. "Thanks, Mom. I've been taking good care of it," I replied, grateful for her encouragement and support.

Once our hair was sufficiently oiled, Kanu suggested trying out different hairstyles. Teena's eyes lit up with excitement as she sat down in front of our mother, ready for the next step.

"Can you braid my hair, Mom?" Teena asked, her anticipation evident in her voice.

Kanu nodded, a warm smile gracing her lips. "Of course, sweetie," she said, gathering Teena's hair and expertly braiding it, like a skilled artist creating a masterpiece.

I watched intently, feeling a twinge of envy mixed with admiration for Teena's long hair, like a flower observing a neighboring bud bloom before its time.

"Now, Rohit, let's try something for your hair," Kanu said, turning her attention to me.

I sat down, hoping that my hair was long enough for a braid. However, as Kanu tried to weave my hair into a braid, it became clear that it wasn't quite there yet.

"I'm sorry, Rohit, your hair is just a bit too short for a full braid," she said apologetically, her fingers gently gathering my hair.

"It's okay, Mom," I replied, trying not to let my disappointment show. "Maybe another time."

Kanu smiled understandingly and gently tied my hair into a low ponytail instead, securing it with a ribbon. "There we go. A cute ponytail suits you just as well," she said, her words comforting, like a flower receiving a gentle pat to uplift its spirits.

I grinned, appreciating her efforts to make me feel included. "Thanks, Mom. I think it looks great," I said, feeling a sense of contentment settle over me.

As we admired our hairstyles in the mirror, our hair oiled and styled with care, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for the loving bond we shared. The day had turned into a delightful bonding experience, like a garden flourishing with the beauty of different flowers.

AFTER A WHILE :

As I sat in front of the mirror, studying the low ponytail my mother had crafted for me, Teena couldn't resist the opportunity to tease me. With a mischievous grin, she commented, "Look at you, Rohit! You're becoming quite the little ponytail prince!"

I rolled my eyes playfully, not minding her banter. "Oh, come on, Teena. It's just a ponytail," I replied, trying to act nonchalant even though her teasing brought a smile to my face.

Teena giggled, gently tugging at the ribbon that held my ponytail in place. As I touched my hair, feeling the smoothness of the oiled strands, Teena chimed in, "But hey, you know what? You're starting to look like a cool and trendy guy! I'm almost jealous!"

Throughout the day, the feeling of my hair gathered in a ponytail became a constant reminder of my evolving journey. As I went about my daily activities, I couldn't help but be conscious of the swaying sensation with every step. The sight of my ponytail made me feel a mix of excitement and curiosity, like a flower eagerly awaiting the morning sun to bloom.

As the aroma of freshly cooked breakfast filled the kitchen, I noticed Teena sneak a few playful glances at my hair. "You know, Rohit, you've got to own that ponytail! It's your signature style now," she teased, like a friend encouraging another to embrace their unique identity.

I chuckled, playfully brushing off her remark. "Alright, alright. I'll work on my ponytail swagger," I replied, my words laced with humor and self-acceptance.

Throughout the day, my ponytail became my companion, accompanying me through various activities. Whether I was reading a book, studying for online classes, or simply lounging around, the gentle swish of my hair was a comforting presence, like a flower enjoying the tranquil ambiance of a garden.

During our lunch break, I decided to experiment with my appearance a little more. With Teena's encouragement, I adorned my ponytail with a colorful hairpin, adding a touch of playfulness to my look, like a flower donning a vibrant accessory to stand out in the garden.

As I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but smile. There was a newfound confidence in my reflection, like a flower proudly displaying its vibrant colors.

In the afternoon, Teena and I decided to play some board games. As we engaged in friendly banter and playful competition, my ponytail seemed to take on a life of its own, swaying with each animated move. Later in the day, when we went out to the garden to enjoy the evening breeze, I felt a sense of liberation as the wind gently brushed against my hair. It was as if my ponytail was an extension of my identity.

As the day drew to a close, we gathered for a family dinner. Sitting at the table, my ponytail now a familiar part of me, I felt a deep sense of acceptance and belonging, like a flower finding its place among its companion blooms in the garden. 

Throughout the day, my ponytail had not only become a style statement but a reflection of my journey of self-discovery and self-expression.