The Summer Hair Reckoning by Aaaaaarrruyaaa

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The Summer Hair ReckoningSummer Freedom
It was peak summer in a small North Indian town. School had let out for vacation, and 14-year-old Aryan had finally grown his hair out—eye-length, messy, and forbidden at school. The heat was unbearable, and with all the hair products and constant AC, the electricity bill shot up sharply.

When the bill arrived, Aryan’s father’s face turned crimson. Seeing the newly delivered hair products piled up added fuel to the fire. He grabbed Aryan by the hair, yanking him roughly. The boy cried out as his father scolded him.

Father: "Itna bill aur itne products, aur tumhare ye ghonsla abhi bhi waisa hi hai?!"

Aryan tried to explain, but his father’s anger was unstoppable. He dragged Aryan through the hot afternoon streets to the barbershop, occasionally striking him to keep him in line. Aryan’s pleas were ignored; he winced with every tug and slap.

Finally seated in the barber chair, Aryan received a scissors trim along the classic part. The sides were neatly trimmed, leaving the top longer in a stylish one-sided cut.

He ran a kangi through it, feeling lighter and happy. For the first time in weeks, Aryan smiled, imagining himself walking through summer streets confidently.


Just as Aryan admired himself, his father returned after a call. His eyes fell on Aryan’s head immediately.

Father: "Aur top ka kya? Ye ghonsla abhi bhi theek nahi hai!"
Aryan (pleading): "Papa, bas yahi haircut perfect hai… please…"
Father (angrily, pointing): "Bas nahi! Ye bill dekha hai tumne? Itne products aur electricity ke paise… aur tumhare ye ghonsla abhi bhi ye style? Abhi top ko sahi karna padega!"

Aryan froze. Pride and happiness from the one-sided haircut vanished instantly.


Father (grabbing top hair firmly): "Ab ye pura ghonsla sahi karna hai, aur kangi se comb bhi na lage!"
Barber: "Sir, sirf thoda trim kar doon ya completely short?"
Father: "Completely short! Ab aur patience nahi, summer bhi hai!"

The scissors were replaced by clippers. Buzzing filled the shop as hair fell in thick dark strands. Aryan’s scalp tingled; the stylish one-sided glory disappeared under his father’s orders.

Father: "Abhi bhi zyada lamba hai. Aur chhota karo!"
Barber: "Sir, sirf sides aur back aur taper kar doon?"
Father: "Nahi! Sab! Proper karna hai! Ye ghonsla ab bilkul sahi hona chahiye!"

The barber shaved the top to a 2. Aryan’s confidence faded.

Father: "Since we’ve gone this far, top ko 1 kar do."
Barber: "Sir, kya aap sach mein top itna chhota chahte hain?"
Father: "Haan! Summer ka time hai, aur lesson bhi seekhna chahiye"

Sides were reduced to 0.5, top to 0.5. Stray facial hair was removed. Aryan watched every strand fall onto his lap. Attempts to protest were met with a warning look from his father.

Aryan stared at his reflection: completely shaved, summer-proof, utterly different. The glow of the one-sided haircut was gone. Each strand reminded him of the electricity bill, the products, and the painful summer lesson he had just endured.

LATER AT HOME

Father: "Ye saare hair products return karo. Ek hair trimmer bhi order karo. Tumhare baal ab winter tak lamba nahi rehne wale!"

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