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Miss your fingers running through my hair

When my daughter came for a short vacation from Sydney I asked her what she missed the most
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Alka Kashyap

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When my daughter came for a short vacation from Sydney, I asked her what she missed the most. In my mind, I was expecting her to say, ‘ghar ka khaana’ (home-made food). To my surprise, she said, “I missed you oiling my hair, mom.”

I remember, when I was a child, my mother was very particular about oiling my hair every week. And there I was, always trying to escape it. She would be running around the whole house, trying to catch me.

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Gradually, I started enjoying this every Sunday. She started telling me stories of Rapunzel, the girl with beautiful long hair, while running her nimble fingers through my locks.

My grandmother too was very thorough in applying the oil deeply. She would hum bhajans while rubbing that oil on my pate. That is where I remember most of my Aartis (prayers) from.

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This little unassuming session of grooming, has long been eulogised by our Hindi movies. ‘The champi tel maalish’ song, brilliantly enacted by Johnny Walker, is still etched in my memory.

It was a beautiful bonding time between me and my mother. She used to be all ears and I was able to talk about the most intimate things with her. She used to end the massage with a tight hug.

I continued this ritual with my two children as well. My daughter used to love it. Whenever the session happened, she would pester me to continue massaging her hair, for a few more minutes. Every time I tried to withdraw, she would bring back my hand to her head. In due course of time, she had found out a smart way of extending these precious moments. She would strike a conversation and ask me lots of questions. I would get carried away by answering them in great detail and she would have her fun.

The other day, I started caressing my pet dog and he too stretched out comfortably at my feet, soaking in all the leisurely moments. No wonder everyone enjoys that comforting touch on their crown.

Goa seems to have marketed this age-old practice very well. A trip to Goa means a nice refreshing massage on the beach.

Recently, I went to a salon for this stress relieving excercise, but the heartless pounding was no match to the tender moments we shared at home. The connection that nurtured the inner confidence and self assurance was missing.

Now, it was the turn of my daughter to cherish those soothing moments before she flew back to Sydney. So the first day of her vacation is devoted to a nice hot oil massage and a big session of heart-to-heart talk.

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