Very short story in English with moral – My Hair
All because of my hair

Very short story in English with moral – My Hair

Very short story in English with moral – My Hair

Very short story in English with moral – My Hair

“You good for nothing fellow!” one slap.

“You naughty boy!” one other slap. “You rascal!” a bathe of slaps.

 I might see stars dancing at noon! The portraits of Kabir, Ghalib, and Einstein hanging on the wall began swinging. I misplaced rely on the slaps raining down on my clean-shaven head and face. I questioned if I actually deserved them.

I used to be in school VIII and a boarder in a convent in Delhi. I used to be a great singer and there have been hardly any education programs at which I didn’t recite a poem or sing a track.

For days and weeks now, we had been getting ready for an vital presentation. A chief guest was to preside, and so pleasure skyrocketed.

The school rooms have been cleaned and adorned, and charts and images mounted. Everyone was busy.

A poem was to be recited in honour of the distinguished visitor. And who else however I could possibly be requested to recite it?

I did not let you know that my hair was slightly lengthy in these days. Typically my dad and mom can be offended with me on that account. However once I was admiited to the hostel, I assumed I’d have the liberty of rising my hair so long as I wished.

The scenario, I realised very quickly, was worse on the hostel. The warden, a venerable outdated fellow, was stricter than my dad and mom. He was an artist by occupation and fairly unnaturally insisted on every thing being neat and clear and in good order.

So, very quickly, my hair turned the bone of rivalry between us.

Each Sunday, an outdated barber whom we referred to as ‘Khalifa’ came to the hostel. So the entire morning I spent taking part in hide-and-seek with the warden.

Nevertheless, each fourth or fifth week I would be caught and handed over to Khalifa. He himself shuddered on the mere point out of my title as a result of I used to be actually troublesome. His palms quivered when he touched my head.

The Sunday earlier than the perform the warden warned me repeatedly that I’d be severely punished if I did not have a hair-cut.

That was simply too dangerous, as a result of I wished to look on stage with my crowning glory untrimmed.

However I could not escape the warden’s clutches and was duly despatched to Khalifaji. The dreaded second had come. I needed to determine there after which whether or not to undergo his threats or revolt.


The satan will need to have egged me on. I used to be a highly effective particular person (used sarcastically) termed to take revenge and settle all accounts, outdated and new. I offered my head to Khalifaji humbly.

I even requested him to shave off my head utterly! However, after all he would not take me severely. Finally, once I insisted, he utilized water on my head. Then earlier than selecting up the razor he requested me for the final time.

“Are you positive you need your head to be clean-shaven?” It took nice effort on my half to persuade him. Then, with trembling palms, he put the razor to my hair.

It took ten minutes to shave my head thrice.

There wasn’t the hint of a hair on my shining scalp, I made Khalifaji trim my eyebrows too.

Then I rigorously utilized oil to provide it a greater shine.

I went again to my room, placed on a pair of shorts and wrapped a towel spherical my shoulders.

Then I got here out of the hostel trying victorious. My companions burst out laughing and clapped as they adopted me. I headed the procession, imitating like a Buddhist monk.

The warden was busy adorning a classroom.

The boisterous procession of boys, yelling, laughing and clapping, handed by.

The warden ran out of the classroom and stood surprised as he watched.

He couldn’t imagine his eyes. He examined me from head to foot.

That is when the blows began raining down on me. I had slightly anticipated them and now that I consider it—deserved them too.

I was in fact not permitted to perform on stage the following day. However worse nonetheless I needed to stay with my monk-like look for a lot of months.

After that no one ever requested me to have a haircut once more, and in the present day I’m the only real grasp of my head and hair

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