Reading a very charming post on Indiequill today, a sudden urge to let a certain family cat out of bag. My mother, the eldest of four was a rather strong child. She threw her tantrums and the other three were wrapped around her finger.
At some point in time Sadhana was a very famous actress. My mother convinced her younger sister (my chitti) who must have been around 12 years old that the Sadhana cut (a very bad fringe) would look nice on her. My chitti, gullible and younger, agreed. My mother proceeded to give her a bad haircut of epic proportions.
I think it took my chitti quite a while to grow out of that bad haircut. Apparently she started weeping once she saw the mirror. Tempers at home flared apparently, with my grandfather’s being the worst.
I get the feeling that more than being angry with my mom, he was angry with my chitti for being so trusting. Despite knowing what a rogue my mother could be.
I just wish someone had taken a photograph of chitti at that point. With her “Sadhana cut”. On the other hand, what this really proves, is that I am what I am because my mother is my mother. I am going to blame all my stubbornness, absurd ideas and the eccentricities on her. Okay?
PS – Wait, my dad already does that!