The memory of our first meeting is as alive now as when it happened. She was a vision of orange frizzed hair, iridescent green eye-shadow and equally luminous nails. Always shy at first encounters, I was dumbstruck and before I could help myself, I blurted out, ‘I need a haircut, but I have very conservative tastes!’ She smiled, invited me in and sat me down in front of the mirror. After combing and wetting my hair she set to with grips and clips before she commenced cutting. All the while, she chatted to me and I responded distractedly. I was too busy praying about the outcome.
When hubby and I relocated to Thane, there was no hairdressing salon worth the mention. And as I mourned the distance between Thane and Bandra where my earlier hair dresser resided, one of my husband’s numerous relatives suggested that I go see Lolly – reputed to be good at her profession and reasonable in her price. The address was just a building away. So convenient. And so I went. That visit resulted in one of the best hair-dos I have ever sported and also in an enduring friendship. Lolly was always nothing but herself. Glad to be who she was, never judgmental, never angry at the predicaments that life threw at her, she was a free spirit particularly when it came to make up and dress. In a crowd, she was one of a kind. And she was true to her reputation – her skill with comb and scissors was supreme.
Both Lolly and I have long since quitted Thane and are no longer in touch. But if there is one thing that she taught me it is that it is sometimes correct to judge a book by its cover; to know the pleasure of an encounter with the original, zany, spontaneous, sometimes outrageous - a bright and shiny new spot among the fusty titles on a musty library shelf!
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