Gyaan

I got a pixie cut yesterday. I thought my hair would set after the first wash, but I think I was in denial because they look the same as they did at the salon.

Pixie cut is essentially just a men’s haircut. And oh boy, I do feel the manhood! Now what’s left is to have larger pockets, an equal say in the society and peeing standing on the streets.

I didn’t know, how for us, women, even hair is holding us back. I mean it literally is pulling us down, because any hair longer than this, is facing the force of gravity on the scalp. Since there isn’t even a handful of hair at any given area on my head now, the scalp feels sensitive as it is getting free of the tension that existed for two decades (girl maths: considering I had short hair for the first 4-5 years of my life).

I can now put my head on the head-rest of the car without any scrunchie or bunch of hair obstructing it. I can wash my hair everyday and wipe it with a towel like I’m rubbing all my hair off. I can save on expensive shampoos and conditioners and hair creams. Scrunchie - what? Comb - uh, what? Hairstyles- uh, what are you talking about? I’m gonna save so much time not trying to set my audacious curls every time I wash them. And since time is money, I’m earning yo!

If you’ve had long hair and short-to-medium hair, both in one life, you’d know our head movements, our body language and our movements, overall, change a little. Long hair calls for more elegance (read as restrictive) while short hair is so freeing and (I’m gonna say it, because breaking just one societal norm wasn’t enough) gay.

I had to think hard on my decision before I asked Sohel to chop off my precious, freshly conditioned hair. However, I know that as they grow, I’ll be trying almost all possible hairstyles in and out of the ‘curly girl regime’. So, wish me luck and speedy recovery!

There were two things I was told in a relationship that would stick with me - both about incompatibility. One: ‘I have a lot to say in my first language, some of it very beautiful, but you wouldn’t understand, and that language gap, that little loss in translation will make me wonder if I will ever be able to offer all of myself. We speak in Hindi, your first language, then why can’t we speak in Telugu, my first language? Why do I have to give up a major part of myself?’

And, two: ‘I met her. She is from my domain, and it felt so easy to talk to her. I am mostly my work, and her being from a similar background, made me connect better.’

We keep looking for parts of ourselves in others. As we move through the different phases in our lives, we look for different things, or the same set of things in different proportions. Gradually, our needs outgrow what they can provide, and although it’s sad, it’s the truth. Does the difference in growth intimidate the other? Surely. Does it hurt to be rejected by life, if not them, because they’re too kind? Yes. But does it feel happy when you see them find what they need, as they grow and shine? Very.

Theoretically, there is no point in holding onto their old versions; but maybe what we hold onto is the versions of ourselves when we were with them? Or maybe just the particular time in your life, that you happened to share with them. Humans are complicated.

So, for what I know, I am a human and all my feelings are natural (at least these, because I don’t intend to murder anyone).

Different ways of showing love

“Kriti, yeh le, phailana mat” [“Kriti, take this, don’t spill it”], says my brother each time we take a detour to have a tender coconut and he hands me over a coconut in the car.

Is it just an instruction to annoy me or does he not trust me on how I’d handle the coconut water? It would always irritate me to hear those framed instructions everytime I’d step out of the house - “jaldi aa jaana” [“come soon”]; or when my parents would hand me a glass of warm water - “sambhaalke” [“careful”] or when I’d rush when late - “aaraam se” [“chill”], until I heard my friend’s mom tell her the same in Marathi - “lavkar ye”, “saambhaadun”, “aaraamatun”. (It’s funny how we fail to observe and appreciate things in first-person)

My dad once told me that his mother always advised him to drive carefully even when he was 40 and had two children, one of whom was about to become legally old enough to drive. That was not to annoy him for sure - what joy would my grandma be getting by repeating the same advice for 20+ years? And dad had been a heavy driver all that time, so why instruct, that too when grandma herself didn’t know how to ride a bicycle, let alone drive a four-wheeler?

I think it’s the care in it’s most default version. They wouldn’t say that to an Uber driver (unless the driver's actually winging it) even though they’re a stakeholder in that situation.

Love is such a complex concept, and especially, Indian Love - it really can be so irritating at times! But, it’s caring deeply.

I remember not hugging my family until I was like 21, but I always heard these little instructions, which I’ve started to take warmly nowadays. I hope you do too! After all, it's brown families we're talking about, you have no option anyways XD

Take up more space!

Taking physical space in this world is directly proportional to the happiness one induces. So, dance a lot more than little.

Ending my Sikkim Solo Trip

It's 17th October 2025. I started my trip on the morning of the 10th, my birthday.

I am tired with all the sunlight there has been since yesterday, and the weight I'm carrying today. But it's okay, this is nothing that I haven't done before.

You know, on this trip, I didn't feel the butterflies or excitement at any point, sadly. Maybe because it was a known terrain - all of it - a language I'd heard before and could make sense of; a weather I had once borne and was more than prepared to bear again; a landscape my eyes were used to seeing, and anyway, I came here just for a specific landscape - the blue skies, the snow-ladden mountains perimetered with green tin army barracks. Even the fellow solo traveller I met felt very familiar - an engineer who backpacked twice a year and smoked day and night.

Probably the only thing that felt new was stargazing. I learnt how to spot an Orion, and also that satellites and shooting stars are different. I hope the (Starlink) satellite I wished to fulfills my dream haha XD

However, I think this trip consolidated India for me. From Ahmedabad to Kohima, from Manali to Trivandrum, I've not just visited places, but also lived at some. Dal chawal is a constant everywhere. Marwaris and Baniyas are every-goddamn-where. Everyone is comfortable with Hindi (except probably in Bangalore XD) and the overall culture of hospitality is the same across India. So, yes, I do feel a little more connected to "my" land after my Sikkim trip.

I also learnt how to live by myself a little better. I talked to myself almost each time I walked and I didn't care what people thought. I learnt how one can just watch a movie and chill, although I couldn't put this lesson to use since I would just pass-out after a long day of travel. However, what matters is the fact that I can be independent - no boyfriends, no family, no social media, and probably no phones too.

Finally, there was a moment when I looked at those majestic light-reflecting mountains that had scratches of land and moss-covered rocks, with tears in my eyes, and I told myself: "If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere. All by myself. All, without a plan. Only an intense desire for something."

And now life will go on. I'll be an advisor on the Sikkim itinerary, a proud solo traveller, probably a little more content thinking about the little acts of kindness I was humbled with. I will miss the people I met and will try my best to stay in touch with them. Again, life will go on, perhaps with some more fuel of life.