Bringing Things Onto Myself

I am not convinced I do, but perhaps I’m wrong?

There is a traditional aspect of Indian weddings, wear the men wear turbans. Or at least the groom’s side does. I am not entirely sure, but then a Google search should sort that out. [But lazy.]

So at the wedding in Delhi, the boys lined up to get turbans tied. They looked really good, in suits and turbans, and I was mighty proud [and felt slightly sentimental] being part of that group. [Will never admit it to them though. Otherwise won’t live down the teasing.]

Side note: There were a number of complaints from the idiots though, because the turbans are tied fairly tight. So I heard stupid things like: “I can’t feel my ears!” [As though he feels his ears normally.] or “My brain will pop out my nose.” [As though he has a brain.] and so on. Also the tails at the back were very long, so they were absurdly conscious of them.

On reaching our destination, the wedding venue, they took off the turbans with considerable relief. And everyone’s hair was mussed up as a result. Of course no one had foreseen the need for a comb, and mostly everyone ran their fingers through their hair a couple of times and called it quits.

Except for one.

He kept asking how his hair was looking, and it was, to be fair to him, in complete disarray. I guess it was because he has thin hair. He was being ignored by the rest because he is an excitable fellow with chronic foot-in-the-mouth disease. They adore winding him up, because he gets wound up easily.

So I took pity on him, and offered to set his hair, if he so wished. He was surprised – both at the offer and my apparent ability to set hair. *rolls eyes* But he agreed. Thus, I set him hair.

While his head was bent in front of me, another friend started laughing, and whispered that I brought this sort of stuff on myself. I ignored him at first, because I was only trying to be kind.

I finish setting dude’s hair, and he looks up in even more surprise than before.

Him: “Did you set my hair?!”
Me: “Yes. What did you think I did otherwise?” *in some surprise myself*
Him: “Well, your fingers barely touched my hair! Or are you really THAT gentle?”
Me: “Um, OK. I did set your hair dude!”
Him *to the others*: “Is my hair set now? Did she actually do anything?!”

By this time, the other friend was clutching his stomach in agony, trying to suppress his laughter. I had fixed dude with a beady-eyed look, because REALLY?

He finally looked at me again, and reiterated: “Are you sure my hair is set? I could barely feel your fingers!”

To which I said, not with a little menace: “Come here. I’ll do it again, and this time I’ll make jolly sure you feel it!”

And he beat a hasty retreat.

I do bring it on myself, don’t I? Sigh.


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