Where Shadows Learn To Dream

Shorn Locks Give A New Identity

Aanya

The phone rang as I was about to step out for a walk. I glanced at the screen-Mr. Joshi, the director. My heart raced as I answered.

"Hello, Mr. Joshi," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Good morning, Aanya. I wanted to confirm the start date for your shoot," Mr. Joshi's voice was warm but formal. "We're scheduled to begin in three months. I've also sent you the script. Your role is crucial."

After hanging up, I quickly checked my email. The script was attached, and I opened it with trembling hands. My role was to play Meera, a character who starts as a frightened child and grows into a fierce soldier. I would be portraying the young version of Meera, and my final scene-where Meera cuts her long hair to symbolize her commitment to becoming a soldier-would be filmed on camera.

Reading the script, I felt a rush of emotions. The haircut scene wasn't just a physical change; it symbolized a deep transformation in Meera's journey. I realized this wasn't just about acting; it was about letting go of a significant part of myself. Could I really handle such a drastic change?

The months passed quickly, and when the scheduled date arrived, I found myself at the film studio, immersed in a world of lights, cameras, and busy crew members. The studio had been transformed into a mock army camp, complete with barracks and military equipment. Every day was a whirlwind of activity as I filmed various scenes, capturing Meera's transformation from a frightened girl to a determined young soldier.

Finally, the day came for the pivotal scene-the one where Meera's dramatic haircut would be filmed. The studio set was ready, and the crew buzzed with excitement. I was nervous but ready. This was the moment I had both anticipated and dreaded.

Riya, the stylist, approached with clippers and scissors. My heart pounded as I sat in the salon chair, my long, waist-length hair cascading around me. The camera was rolling, capturing every moment of the transformation. It was at this moment that I realised how difficult it was to hold back my emotions.

Riya started with the clippers, the buzzing sound reverberating through the room as she began cutting away my long locks. Each snip felt like a piece of my old self falling away. The drastic change-my once flowing hair being trimmed down to a short crewcut with shaved sides and back, leaving only an inch of hair on top-was surreal.

As Riya finished, I looked at my reflection. I saw a boyish face framed by a drastically different haircut. This was supposed to symbolize Meera's commitment, but seeing myself like this was a shock. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"I look like a boy," I sobbed, unable to hold back my emotions. The crew gave me space, their respect for my feelings evident in their silence. Mr. Joshi approached, his expression understanding.

"You look perfect," he said softly. "Just as I imagined. It's exactly what the role demands."

I tried to compose myself as the shoot wrapped up. With the final scene complete, I left the studio with a heavy heart and a paycheck in hand. The money felt bittersweet-an acknowledgment of my work but a painful reminder of the personal cost.

When I got home, my parents were waiting for me. Their reaction was immediate and harsh.

"Aanya!" my mother exclaimed, her eyes wide with dismay. "What have you done to yourself? You look like a boy!"

My father's disappointment was palpable. "This is such a drastic change. How could you let this happen?"

Their words cut deeper than I had anticipated. I had always valued my appearance, and hearing that I now looked like someone else, someone less traditionally feminine, was like a stab to my self-worth.

"I did it for the role," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pain. "This was a significant opportunity for me."

My mother's face softened slightly as she saw the paycheck. "I suppose this is a big deal. We just... didn't realize how much this would change you."

Though they remained unhappy about my appearance, the presence of the paycheck seemed to shift their perspective slightly. They were reluctantly coming to terms with the fact that I had achieved something substantial, even if they couldn't fully support my decision.

As I went to bed that night, my mind raced with thoughts. I dreaded the reactions I might face at school the next day. No one knew about my film work, and I had to come up with an excuse to explain my new look. I had heard whispers about people who pursued acting and knew they were often looked down upon. The fear of being judged by my peers was overwhelming.

I decided to tell my classmates that I had participated in a cultural event that required a new hairstyle. It wasn't entirely truthful, but it was a plausible explanation that I hoped would deflect attention.

As I settled under the covers, I felt the weight of my choices pressing down on me. The path I had chosen was fraught with challenges, but I knew I had to move forward. Tomorrow would bring its own set of trials, but for now, I closed my eyes, hoping for the strength to face whatever came next.