Meera sat among them, wearing her bright yellow dress. Her long, dark hair fell over her shoulders, thick and slightly wavy.

 The morning air was cool and filled with the quiet hum of people gathering in the courtyard. Rows of families waited patiently under the shade of a long roof where barbers sat on low stools with their tools laid out beside them.

Meera sat among them, wearing her bright yellow dress. Her long, dark hair fell over her shoulders, thick and slightly wavy. She kept twisting the ends between her fingers while watching the others. Around her, the soft scraping sound of razors and the murmur of voices filled the space.

Her father knelt beside her and smiled gently.

“It will be quick,” he said. “Just sit still.”

Meera nodded, though her stomach fluttered with nervous excitement.

Soon it was her turn.

The barber, an older man with steady hands, motioned for her to sit on the small wooden plank in front of him. He carefully tied a cloth around her shoulders so loose strands of hair wouldn’t stick to her dress. With a comb, he began parting her hair down the middle.

A lock of her hair was gathered and held firmly between his fingers. With a soft snip, the scissors cut through it. The thick strand fell into his hand.

Meera felt the sudden lightness immediately.

More sections followed. The barber worked methodically, trimming the hair shorter and shorter. Dark locks slid down the cloth and onto the ground, joining the piles that had formed from others before her.

Soon only short stubble remained.

He dipped the razor in water and carefully began shaving from the front of her head, guiding the blade slowly across her scalp. Meera could feel the cool air touching places that had always been covered by hair.

The scraping sound was gentle but steady.

Each pass of the razor revealed smooth skin beneath. The barber paused often to rinse the blade and brush away loose hair with his hand. Meera stayed very still, occasionally glancing at the growing pile of her hair on the floor.

Within minutes, the top of her head was completely smooth.

He turned her slightly to reach the sides, finishing each section with the same careful attention. When he finally wiped her head clean with a damp cloth, the job was done.

Her father handed her a small mirror.

Meera looked at her reflection and blinked in surprise. Her head was round and shiny, completely bare. She slowly ran her hand across it and laughed.

“It feels so strange!” she said.

Her father chuckled. “You’ll get used to it.”

As they stood up to leave, the morning sun touched her freshly shaved scalp, warm and bright. Meera walked out of the courtyard feeling lighter than she had when she arrived—both in hair and in spirit.