How I Met Her Hair

My very-own-very-late Valentines Day story.

Just another friday night at KR Puram Railway Station. The train pulls in. The people try to get in as quickly as possible. I laboriously pick up my luggage and walk in. And we are away.

I dump my bag under the seat. Fasten up the middle berth. Bring the windows down. Plug in to the music and lie down in the lower berth.

And the song goes,

Aval varuvala. En pallamaana ullam vellamaaga aval varuvaala?

And then I was slowly drifting out of consciousness only to be awakened by that.

That thing that caused quite a furor during the Thiruvilayadal times.

That thing whose questionable natural scent was the reason for the debate between Nakeerar and You-Know-Who.

That thing which caused the opening of the proverbial third eye.

That thing which helps priyanka chopra weave out of her kung fu opponent's grasp in that Clinic Plus Ad.

That thing which was my first tamil swear word.

Yes.

I am talking about human hair. In particular about women's hair.

A lot of friends I know have a thing for long hair. I mean girls with long hair. Although I'm not into it as much as those guys, I'm definitely not averse to it. But that was not how I first reacted when that thing first tickled me.

A piece of advice, Just because a long black hairy(obviously!) thing is in your hand it doesn't mean you have to scramble out of your seat as soon as possible. Especially valid in case you are in the very cramped lower berth of a moving train.

I don't know if my waking up let the light in or the banging of my head cleared it but somehow my mind cleared enough to realize what it was. It was the flowing locks of a woman's hair or the more eloquently worded tamil koondhal, which had snaked through the gap alongside the middle berth and fallen into my very scared hands.

So I get up (without hitting my head this time) and look at her.

Well, she was no sameera reddy. But who am I kidding. I did not have the strength of a thousand elephants. She looked refined and pretty cute in her own koondhal-nonchalantly-tossed-aside-to-the-lower-berth way. My request to get her flowing tresses out of my sleeping quarters were worded thus,

You... Hair.... Down(Hand Pointing)....Take....Please(More of an afterthought)

Economic word usage I agree, but not very elegant is it?

She looked startled for a second. Then comprehends. Pulls the offending object(s?) out of the gap. Lets it lie beside her. Smiles a sheepish sorry.

I wave the apology off and get back to my now koondhal-free lower berth. Only after lying down do I realize how I'd missed a simple opportunity to strike up a conversation with her. I thought to myself there's always tomorrow and went to sleep.

Tomorrow did come. And I found my long haired almost-valentine sitting opposite me with her very own valentine from the other middle berth.

And that is the story of How I met Her Hair.

P.S: True Story. Obviously-exaggerated details are the author's entitlement considering his very poor luck.