New Looks

Well, after a long Hibernate Session (pun intended) am back to blog.
And back to blog about food! :-)

First.. let me pay my respect and awe for Google!
There lies a VAST un-explored treasure of all the information you want about averything!
And I have noticed this so many times..
This time Google bowled me over, when I tried searching for a recipe.. for Ukdiche Modak.
( A very lame english name for this can be sweet stuffed rice dumplings! :-S )
And Bingo!
Google asked Did you mean: ukadiche modak ?
Thats really sweet of Google! ;-) :-D

Ok.. that was all that I wanted to write about food in this blog!:-D

As the title says, I am talking about new looks.
Well, I have managed to get my hair cut here in London ! Ta- Da!
(and also managed not to feel guilty about the price I paid for it!)

After weeks of deliberation, resolve, grit and patience I finally managed to take the decision and stick to it till the weekend.
I took an appointment with a well known unisex salon here .. in the commercial capital of London.
I fumbled and tripped my way to the appointment desk, confirmed the appointment and was at the chair for the next process.
After washing and conditioning my hair, this lady asked me in some german accented english if I was sure I wanted to keep them short!

'I loooove long hair, and my husband scold me for little hair' she said.
I was sooooo happie to hear bad english from a firang! ;-)

She had an ubiquitous gujju assistant and she convinced my white hair stylist [ white is for the stylist, not for my hair.. ok? x-( ] that I was Ok with it.
'Are you sure?' she asked me again.
I felt a bit bad about the hair I was going to lose, and asked how the cut will finally look.

The Gujju had no idea of what my white lady had in mind, and asked her to explain.

'I cut, keep layers.'
Then she plucked a strand of my hair.

'This much 1 layer. Then 1 more little big. Then big, big, big. And 3 layer.'
And all the while she plucked strands of my wet hair, and held certain lengths between her fingers, and brandished the scissors in the other hand.

I waited with baited breath, praying that the scissors won't actually rush and do the act before she intended to!

'And near face, small, and back Vee'
At this she formed a 'V' with her hands to show what a 'V' is.
(As if I thought that an alphabet that sounds like 'Vee' in fact does look like a 'B' or a 'T')

'See my hair. Layer, Layer but small. Your layer..big'.
I looked at her hair.. or whatever was left of it.

It was streaked red, with a bunch still retaining the blonde color.
The hair near the face were cut to some decent uniformity on both the sides, but the hair at the back looked like whoever was cutting her hair had remembered an important errand, and had hurried through half of it, and left the rest to 'rest in peace' !

I still had some hope left in me, for a decent hair cut.

I tried to discuss with her that though I wanted my hair short, the shortest I was willing to go was this much and longest I would permit to stay was that much and that I should be able to tie them up when I want without random strands escaping the clips etc etc etc..

At the end of this conversation, we both had a pained expression on our faces .. no one in the hair-salon world understood us!
Sigh!
We had reached a point of 'you-return-but-not-me'.
She was sure the cut she had in mind suited me, and I was sure that I wanted my hair cut but not by her!

'Its ok. Tension maat lena Ma'm. Woh theek karegi' - Gujju assistant came on desi track.

I was not willing to go through the entire process of 'make your mind for a hair cut - break it - make it again - discuss with friends and family - get encouraged by them to go ahead - still think twice about the loss of hair - consult colleagues - make up mind yet again - take an appointment - stick to it' again.

So I left the fate of my hair in the dainty hands of the white lady ( there was nothing lady-like about her though.)

I amused myself at the chair by looking at locks of soft, black, straight, shiny, beautiful hair fall at my feet, (wonder how things that we lose suddenly appear very important and beautiful) by hearing to the snipping of the scissors, the whooshing of sprays and occassional tugs and pulls as the lady bent my head up, down, left, right till the water from my wet hair trickled (and tickled) down my ears, and neck and chin.

I never stole a look at the mirrors which appeared to surround me, almost close in upon me,tempting me to take a look at myself.

'There you are'.
'Beauty!'
My white lady said.

With a beating heart I looked into the mirror.

And almost burst into tears .... of great relief.

She had done a fabulous job.
I was seeing what I wanted to see, and the hair was perfectly the way it was supposed to be!

A wave of warmth and gratitude swept over me.
I beamed at my white lady and exclaimed my happiness and thanked her for a splendid job.
She beamed in return, and the gujju assistant smiled on us.

The hair-salon world had suddenly became a world of harmony, peace and mutual understanding!

In a state of relief and bliss, I boarded the train home, and in the same ethreal state reached home.

My husband waited anxiously for me to produce the bill.
The figure was a relief for him too. He was dreading to see the worst!

So this entire hair-cut, new-look business ended into an happy affair with one and all living happily ever after! (except the hair I lost! )