Atlast what I feared happened. I got my hair cut. Now if I was back home or even any other place than this one, I wouldnt have worried so much. But I had no choice but to go to this infamous on-campus-complete-makeover-hair-stylist. Some might point out the insanely absurd choice of checking out someplace outside campus. Well if you are asking for a stereotype iitian to travel 2+kms by non-powered means (read cycling) in this *censored* weather for a haircut, then you are surely non compos mentis. That is unless he has a spons meeting or an interview or has a date. Being the eternal optimist that I am, I tried to tell myself that I was being paranoid and it might not turn out that bad. But this had little effect and so I pushed all these dark thoughts into a closet and decided to go and get over the ordeal once'n for all.
I reach the Crack of Doom and I let myself inside. There's one more bakara inwaiting ready to give his hair at the guillotine, and two more already on the hot seat. So I look around and find a Filmfare magazine with Priyanka Chopra as the cover girl. Now I told myself- "See it ain't so bad, is it, my precious?" I had not even turned a couple of pages, the minion of Thanatos (Greek god of death) calls whos next? And like a loyal servant my hand raises itself and betrays me to its diabolic master. Doomed to this fate but still trying to remain cheerful I climb the pedestal-chair and got covered with a sheet. Now that the minion has secured me to the fated seat, he goes about his chore of preparing his malevolent tools. Once he got ready, I see his reflection looking at me with a fiendish gleam in his eyes and I feel his foul breath on the back of my neck. The minion begins his work, a melancholious chop-chop, and the scissors sing a wordless dirge as I see myself being transformed- sorry disfigured to something else. At the end I'm stupefied, unable to believe that what I'm seeing is my own self. Now to avoid disgusting myself, I turn away from the mirror and get ready to pay for his 'service'. And the minion with a full wide display of his sadistic grin pockets my money. Content with his work, as I step out defaced, he moves on to his next prey.
And this is just the beginning of my tribulation. As I walk (not run, coz running gets you noticed) back to hide in my room, I find faces-friends, acquaintances and strangers all straining their memory, trying to remember if they had seen such a face in their life till date.
