Tel malish.....Champi!

 "Don't let loose your tresses, nazar lagtey lokanchi (there are evil eyes)", my mom always said.

I had two thick braids when I was in school. There used to be a tug off war between mom and me every morning, while getting ready for school.

"Come here let me oil your hair and tie braids", mom said. And I used to always quarrel with her, "Please mom, no oil, just tie the braids".

Then, there was difference of opinion on how the braids have turned out. "No! Not like this, it's turned inward mom", I used to huff and puff.

Mom grinned and said, "You'll thank me later". And used to pull my braids jokingly. "See how strong your hair is!", her smiling face made me forget my anguish and bidding a goodbye, I used to peddle my cycle.

During the spring, mom used to make gajras (garlands of flowers) of jasmine,  and pin it on my braids. I used to carry one for my class teacher too. The fragrance would fill up the surroundings as I rode my bicycle to school. The fragrance was one of the cues that summer vacations were near and recreation was just round the corner.

The parachute coconut hair oil bottles were always in stock, with my mom. She said "It's dadi's and nani's magic potion, never skip this routine".

It was like a custom in our family, to sing the famous song while the massage was on....

Sar jo tera chakaraye, ya dil dooba jaye,

Aaja pyaare paas hamare, kahe ghabaray, 

Kahe ghabaray?.....

And all in unison....

Tel Malish...Champiiiiiiii.

If it was a Saturday night champi, we put old pillow covers on the pillows so that they won't get soiled. That night's sleep would be like a 'sleeping beauty' grade of sleep. Your head would feel so light as if on cloud nine!

I enjoyed tel malish (oil massage), on Sunday mornings, that my dadi did. Her soft hands running through my hair and massaging the roots and scalp, complete bliss. When the oil dripped from the forehead, wiping it off with her pallu (end of the saari), it was a warm feeling altogether. She perpetually said, "Enough of those dry frizzy hair, let me drench them in coconut oil and you'll see how they radiate".

This malish was then followed by abhyanga snan (an elaborate bath). Remaining oil was massaged onto our hands and legs. Such Sundays were convivial in every sense. There were no spas, atleast we didn't knew of them, then. But this home spa was delightfully enjoyable.

Well, my long tresses are mom and dadi's blessings they showered me with, with downpour of oil!

Presently, when my mom visits here, I ask her to do some champi. She playfully says, "You used to run away and fight with me in your childhood and now you're running to me for a champi?". I wink at her and say, "Somethings, you realise very late!".

And today, my maayka (mom's place), has so many coconut trees. There's a stock of coconut oil bottles today too, not the parachute one's but cold pressed pure oil. Moreover they are delivered to my place and this Champi happens at my place too. I have two sons, so no long tresses, but the dialogues remain the same..."Enough with those dry frizzy hair, let me drench you both in oil that nana-nani has sent". And these mischief mongers run hither tither to avoid that telwala (oily) look.

PC: knot9

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