The thought of facing her sister, who was recovering from chemotherapy, without her own long, beautiful hair had felt unbearable for Aru. What will she do?

Arundhati stood in front of the mirror, her hair flowing freely down to her knees. At thirty, she looked as charming as a woman in her early twenties. Undoubtedly it were the long tresses that enhanced the beauty of her sharp features, and fair complexion.

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"Aru, my hair is longer than yours," she suddenly heard a whisper, followed by the mischievous tug of her hair.

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Through the mist forming in her eyes, Arundhati caught a glimpse of her elder sister, Aradhana, giggling as she disappeared from sight. The memory of that playful incident from years ago resurfaced vividly in Arundhati’s mind.

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Just two years apart, the sisters had grown up in each other's company like any close siblings. They had inherited their grandmother's luscious, thick hair. Ironically, their mother had extremely short hair, that refused to grow beyond a specific length, not even reaching her waist.

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As a working mother, their mom often felt the strain of tending to her daughters’ hair each morning before school. It took half-hour to oil, remove the knots, and braid the girls' hair into neat plaits.

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A heavy sigh escaped Arundhati as she recalled the frustration etched on Aradhana’s face when she overheard their mother speaking to their grandmother.

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"I'm so worn out from fixing their hair in the morning. Sandeep has to leave by 7:30, and the school bus comes at 7:45. I need to prepare tiffin boxes and breakfast. By the time I leave at 8:30, I'm completely drained! I’m seriously thinking about trimming their hair short—just comb it and place a headband," their mother had lamented.

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That’s when Aradhana had erupted in protest.

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“Let’s see how you touch my hair! I'm going to learn to braid it from now on, but if you even think about cutting it, you’re in for a fight! And Aru, why aren’t you speaking up? Don’t you have anything to say?”

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“I'm sorry,” their mother had replied, trying to soothe her. “I won’t cut your hair, dear. I was just venting to Nanni because Mom gets really tired getting…,” but Aradhana was not in the mood to hear any more. All she wanted was a solid promise from their mom that the subject of hair trimming would never come up again.

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“Both sisters have such lovely, flowing hair. Long hair truly enhances a person’s beauty.” People often spoke admiring their tresses.

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The two grew up to be elegant Bharatnatyam dancers. While other artists in their troupe, needed additional false hair to make long braids, the two were the stalwarts using no false hair. The makeup artists eyes’ almost popped out seeing Aradhana’s and Arundhati’s beautifully flowing tresses.

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“I am sure you two are taking extra precautions to save your hair from falling. Can you share the ‘secret’ with us?” The makeup lady nudged the two sisters playfully. They shrugged their shoulders and merely laughed. There was nothing special that the two did to keep their hair from falling.

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In fact Arundhati had never been as possessive about her hair as her sister. Aradhana would spent hours taking care of her hair, massaging her head with coconut oil, carefully removing the knots from the tresses, and tying them into an aesthetically done plait. However, both their tresses looked almost same.

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“I don’t understand why you put so much of efforts on your hair, see mine too are good, though I just don’t pamper them at all.” Arundhati would tease her sister. Undeterred by her sister’s taunts, Aradhana would continue meticulously nurturing her tresses.

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“See, Aru, you may find it a waste of time now, but in the long run, the chances of my hair turning white soon will be much less compared to you. Look, this coconut oil applied to the roots will not only keep them strong, but I believe the hair won’t turn white soon.” Aradhana would lecture for hours about nurturing the hair.

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And then the family visited Kerala once, and Arundhati was subjected to a huge sermon, given by her sister.

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“Look, the hair of even the elder ladies here hasn’t turned grey. It is all because they carefully apply coconut oil, massage the roots well, and dry their hair meticulously after a hair bath every day.”

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On the day of her wedding Aradhana was looking so stunning, with her hair done into a beautiful, long braid, and a bunch of flowers adorning the braid. The guests couldn’t stop talking about her beautiful hair, and her sharp features that got automatically enhanced by the hairdo.

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A faint smile appeared on Arundhati’s face as she recollected how the guests at Aradhana’s wedding had said how lucky her spouse was to have a beautiful bride.

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A sudden clap of thunder snapped Arundhati from her reverie, each rumble mirroring the storm brewing within her.

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Her heart raced as she heard the door key click. Pritish had returned from work. For a minute she brooded over the decision that she had just taken.

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Would Pritish agree with it, or will he be upset?

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Arundhati braced herself to talk to Pritish. After all he was her husband, and she needed his consent before taking such a crucial decision.

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“Pritish, I'm planning to visit Aradhana tomorrow,” she said, clearing her choked throat.

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Pritish tossed his hair back in disapproval, running his fingers through Arundhati's flowing locks.

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“With these long tresses?” He shook his head again expressing his disapproval, giving Arundhati the much needed respite.

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” she asked, searching his eyes for understanding.

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He nodded, confident that their minds were aligned. 

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“Come on, I’ll take you to the salon before it gets too late.” They climbed into the car, and Arundhati swallowed hard against the wave of tears.

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The thought of facing her sister, who was recovering from chemotherapy, without her own long, beautiful hair had felt unbearable. Her husband, understanding her predicament had stood by her decision to go bald before stepping into the hospital to visit her only loving sister.