It is one of life’s many ironies that we lavish more attention and care on that pigmented strand of dead keratin that is our hair than on all the organs which work to keep us alive. Yet all good times must come to an end. Even for the hair. There is a time for glory and a time for (hair) fall.
The beginning
Hair lay outstretched in all its glory, being treated to its monthly spa. Busy fingers massaged warm oil to its roots. Later it would be lathered, conditioned, and styled while it lay back, limp and lifeless, basking in all the attention. But at an undisclosed location deep within the body physical, the organs called a conference. To discuss a one-point agenda—the luxurious lifestyle of the mane and the grave injustice meted out to them, the working class, for generations.
A conversation that wasn’t
The blood boiled in fury as it ran in circles around the body, through arterial trunks, narrow congested capillaries, and the sluggish traffic of the veins. ‘Just look at these paths, narrowed with greasy mounds of rubbish. All the petitions I’ve sent to unclog these vital pathways ignored in favour of hair care. Everyone blames me for irregular supplies, but with no collaterals, I hit a dead-end each time. Creates bad blood,’ he moaned, before rushing off to complete his rounds.
The heart, heavy with over-work, assented whole-heartedly. It was weary, having worked without a break since birth and having to push harder with every passing year. Apart from an occasional flutter, it had never skipped a beat, always maintaining a steady rhythm. Truly proving its worth as a heart of gold.
Skin and bones
The skin demurred, not wanting to harm a hair of his own head, for the hair was its own progeny. He hastened to squeeze oil from a thousand sebaceous glands to pour on troubled tempers. It was vital to save its own skin, for he too had got used to his lavish lifestyle. ‘Even the dead have a purpose, you know’, he said soothingly, ‘we protect the living underneath.’
‘I don’t want to be splitting hairs’, said the muscles, muscling in, ‘but what useful purpose does the mane serve? Besides tossing itself around?’
The bones, though often closely associated with the skin, had a bone to pick with it in this instance. Entombed within dead minerals, they bore a heavy burden, a burden which got heavier by the decade. There were no carefree spa days for them. ‘I am working myself down to my very bones, building and rebuilding, often having to deal with a scarcity of essential raw materials,’ he grumbled, making no bones about his dissatisfaction.
The tooth too was fed up, right to its back teeth! ‘Chew, chew, chew all day’, it muttered through gritted teeth, ‘what happened to the regular work hours I was promised? Now it’s work the day long, mushy, fizzy stuff which leave you coated in slime. Nothing that you can really sink your teeth into. Ignored till my sensitive roots are exposed to the heat and cold. It fairly sets my teeth on edge.’
Brainstorming
Seated at the head, the brain started to feel the heat. There was a rebellion brewing. The tresses that had evolved to keep him cool had now become the source of his stress. It was all that talk of extensions and rejuvenation that had gone to the head of that dead keratin. ‘Hair-brained,’ he sputtered angrily.
‘It’s no use being hot-headed. We must find a solution’, suggested the thyroid gravely.
‘Indeed, you are the brains behind all this—giving the hair all sorts of ideas,’ pointed out the liver, with spirit.
The lung got ready to air his grievances, inhaling and exhaling sharply till it was short of breath. ‘It’s time for some brain-storming’, it wheezed.
Caught in the crosshairs of the everyone’s ire, the brain racked its brain for an answer. ‘All this is enough to make me want to tear my hair out!’
‘That’s it! It’s a brainwave! Bravo!’ Everyone cheered. The hands clapped, excitedly, it’s fingers itching to get started!
Operation Hairfall had begun.
The scalp prickled with a sense of guilt. The forehead broke into a sweat. But oblivious of the warning signs, totally wrapped in itself, the hair still relaxed, letting its hair down. Little did it know that its fall was near.
2 responses to “Hair fall – the conspiracy theory”
The hair deserve all the attention after a hairy day which is none of its fault!
But maybe the other organs deserve some attention too:)