Haircut

For a long time, I have been longing to travel in Blue Bus. This Sunday my Mom and Grandparents decided to full- fill my wish. (For a change). The price I had pay for it was my “hair”. They bribed me a tour on bus, if I agree for a haircut. Ok, agreed.

Sunday morning; me, my Baba, and my Mamma went to Salon. The first salon owner said that I cry too much and he denied my entry. (He has learnt a lesson from his past experiences. Good job). I wished all Salon owners do the same. Deep in my heart I was rejoicing this entry withhold.

The next place was a new one. So he agreed to cut my hair. I thought I should teach him a lesson too. As soon as he sprinkled water, I started my crying saga, not only crying, it is kind of screaming and beating the hair dresser. Somehow I should carve a niche about my capabilities and teach him a lesson so that he doesn’t cut my hair again.

Well, soon he finished job of cutting and I finished my job of crying. All of us, garnished with tiny hairs, went home for a shower.

As soon as the shower was over, my Mamma changed her stand.

Mamma: “Aryan, You cried so much that now we are not taking you in Bus.”

Aryan: “Please Mamma, I will not cry again.”

Mamma: “Every time you say the same thing.”

Aryan: “Next time I will not cry Mamma, please mamma take me out in Bus.”

Mamma: “Let us see next time. Moreover, it is raining outside.”

Aryan in fully angry: “Mamma , take me out Now.”

Mamma: “No, not now.”

Aryan, extremely angry: “Mamma, I will throw you out and beat you. Wait, I will cut your hair now.”

With my threatening, she got convinced and they took me out in the evening in a Bus. Bus safari requires a new post altogether.

NB: After haircut, I feel I am more handsome now. Like Snow white’s step mother, I keep looking at the mirror atleast 10 times a day.