And that could have been the end of hair problems

Dove IndiBlogger Contest Runner-up

The legs, hands and the head were fixed in place. The body was covered with a gown weaved out of gold and silver threads. A red liquid was smeared over the lips. The cheeks were made to blush with the help of the dye. Everything looked fine but it was far from being hailed as the Miss Universe. Needles pricked into the head aided by rollers hovering from all sides to integrate those keratinous fibres that were sourced either from the local barber or from the offerings at Tirumala. And the outcome amazed one little girl whose eyes moved across the display on the shelves. ‘Papa, I want that doll’, said the little girl and the wish was granted. Packed in a six sided box and wrapped in a cover to gift herself, the little girl opened the box to unveil the treasure adorned with silk hair to the little bridegroom that was waiting since ages for a bride. But no… it wasn’t yet time.

The little girl had a fancy for her hair and for every other strand of hair that was owned by her. How could a marriage take place without reincarnating the long hair that touched the feet to give it a look and feel that would reflect the princess style? The doll was made to stand on the low high wall in the magnificent veranda of the little princess’ room that boasted of being tolerant to every naughty act of the princess.

All the brands of shampoos and hair conditioners and not to be forgotten… the hair dyes were lined up so that the poor doll using the suppressed powers that nature had endowed her with, could choose to her desire. Repeated requests by the little princess to the doll yielded no results. Frustrated, a handful of each of the shampoos and the conditioners were taken in a huge bucket and agitated in the presence of a drop or two of water until the froth seemed to lay siege to her room. The poor doll was then held by the neck lest she run away fearing the treatment that was due to her. Not a strand of the doll’s hair was spared. Every minute constituent did receive its share of the cocktail.

But alas! The hair wasn’t dyed. Would the order matter for someone who was a slave in the princess hand? The confusion that prevailed over the row of shampoos and conditioners did extend its control over the colour of the dye too. Millions of colours splashed into one another created a vibrant and dominating colour that resembled nature’s fury during a storm. Having no other pass time than to torture the little doll the entire day, the current operation slowed down and the help of paint brush was taken. Three hours passed by and a competitor to the young princess had evolved.

Nourishment was the next and the last in queue. Hair oil was smeared to an extent where holding the doll by its hair was a task to be rewarded. Holding the bride in one hand and the bridegroom in the other hand, the nuptial know was tied amidst screams and shouts from that one little princess.

A few days passed by and the princess started lamenting over the state of the doll’s hair. What once appealed top her could no longer be allowed to stay in her vicinity. The bridegroom needed a better bride. The doll was mercilessly thrown into the garbage dump outside the house.

The watchman of the house on seeing the pitiable doll was reminded of his daughter’s demand since a year to buy a doll. It was picked up and placed in the hands of the ‘poor’ princess. The princess liked the doll for everything that it possessed but for the hair. What else could be done to repair the damaged hair hand to detach it completely? If only the doll did have a mouth to speak for itself, it would have definitely spoken its heart to the world ‘…. And that was the end of my hair problems’.

Life was much better now. It was fed with whatever the poor girl had and was taken care of in the best possible way she could. But fate, unable to withstand the turn of events landed up the doll back in the princess house who feeling too sorry for the doll set out to stich hair to the bald hair, piercing it with a needle that was a silent spectator to the cries of agony that could be heard by none……….

This is an entry for the contest '.... and that was the end of my hair problems' on IndiBlogger sponsored by Dove. If you have liked this entry, do vote for it here. Check out the Dove hair aware app here.

Do check out the other entries submitted for the contest below: 



You have given it a dark fairytalish feel, all the best :)

Jayashree Srivatsan

Thats one totally different entry :) Good Luck!


your treatment for the topic was very different and unique... Like it :)

Diana Pinto

very well written Ranjith :)


So different, a tale of luck.


:) I am sure it would have been better for sure .. all the best for the contest



This story is sure to stand out from the rest.

All the best for the contest.


ah a great story here ..." piercing it with a needle that was a silent spectator to the cries of agony that could be heard by none………" shows to what extend we can go for our hair.

a different story and I loved it ...good luck for the competition. This one is surely going to stand out ..


A great story but also unique and different from others. All the Best

Jayadev Menon

All the best!


A different narration and a great post.. all the best ..

T F Carthick

Nice - A kind of dark fairy tale which gives reader scope to read between the lines.

Shalu Sharma

Very interesting story. Well written.

Mohan Chandra Pargaien

Nice post. Quite interesting..


a different take on hair problems- a dark story with a message :) nice!


Nice concept. and good luck with the contest :)

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