It’s Been Four Days

And my life is stuck.

The last four days haven’t taught me anything I will take forward in life. I’m the same hopeless person who is struggling to keep up with the expectations a new day brings. I realized, I’m not at a level where I can tell my mind what to do – I’m its slave. I didn’t mind being one until I discovered what a weakness it is. I look at great lives and find one common factor – grit – what I lack. It’s a brutal revelation.

I have 3 days before I appear for the biggest test of my life (I’m told). Three days. 72 hours.

My indiscipline is concisely reflected through the existence of this very post which shouldn’t have.

I’m scared. What will be at the end of those fourteen days? Will I be overjoyed at the thought of a decent result? Or will I be devastated over my foolish and immature incompliances? I don’t know and I’m terrified to find out – well, what choice do I have but to.

Before I’m sacrificed..

There’s not much to say about that anymore.

This is who I am – Maya – bracing herself to the cold cuts of the nearing, threatening papers, hoping to make it out with sanity and rationality intact.

That’s it for now. Tata!

(I told you I was dramatic)

I Want A Haircut

I have been going back and forth on this.

For the major part of my life, I have had long hair – still do (‘long’ is one-third way down my back).

But for major parts of my life, I have also wanted to get it shortened. But now – right before the biggest assessment of my life (I’m dramatic) – I need it most intensely. I want short hair!

It saves time – it saves my effort – it indirectly guarantees better grades by omitting the long shower sessions. It is a win-win situation.

I want to renounce my small role in its care-taking and use that extra patience to study (ideally). Fine – even if not to study, some extra patience won’t hurt, right? I could be productive – organize the book spread in my room. It is seriously distracting.

Getting back to the point, I want short hair – ruffled and fun.

But who stands in the way of me getting it despite my surprising conviction (I am humorously fickle) in the matter? My beautiful mother.

She is the reason I’ve had long hair most of my life. She loves those healthy but wastefully(no offence) long tresses, excitedly pointing to women with them, in hopes of buying me into the idea. She knows that my idea of hair is of the minimal yet sufficient but being the Indian parent that she is, she reaffirms her control by making me keep the long hair. I don’t particularly mind, except for now.

And as cute as she is, convincing her shouldn’t be impossible.

It is I who is wavering on the overwhelming immediacy of the need because I wouldn’t want to be impulsive. The comfort secretly wrapped in my stress laden hair is but too familiar. Getting them chopped off might add to stress – you never know.

Well, I couldn’t know by staying put and maybe it is time I venture out of my comfort zone. What say?

#shorthair

Know any good places where I can bid adieu to the hair?