An Oily Mess

We Indians love our oil –a lot of it in our food, on our body and in our hair. If the entire Indian populace were to dip their hair  in the Arabian Sea(especially on a weekend), we will put the BP oil spill in Gulf of Mexico to shame.

For most of us it’s not just oil but the elixir of youth. A heaven sent potion that promises to transform our stringy mess to a cascading lush mane, send our stubborn dandruff packing off, turn our gray to black so that we can live happily ever after, clutching our bottle of oil. We may have moved on from Sunsilk to Loreal, from Lux to Lush, from synthetic to organic but the hair oil remains a constant. Of course our preferences have changed and the variety is mind boggling.

My Ma has had a life-long bond with her bottle of hibiscus oil -Jabakusum Tel (not the same one thought, she buys a new one every few months). She swears by this very red, very thick oil with a heavy cloying “fragrance” that you can sniff from miles. As a young girl, even though I hated that oil, I had no choice but to use it. So every weekend when I oiled my hair, I tried to breathe as little as possible. It was only after 22 years and a marriage later that I started to breathe properly.

For years I was convinced that this company had managed to survive only due to my Mom’s loyal patronage. I mean who in their right mind would want to use an oil that is not only an assault on your olfactory sensibilities but also an effective repellent? Many years later, I discovered much to my horror that this was preferred by many a Bengali along with Keo Karpin. But what the hell, don’t people use mustard oil and coconut oil which smell as badly?

Even though we swear by our hair-oiling ritual and stick religiously to it come rain or shine, yet most of us wouldn’t be caught dead in all our oily glory. Hair plastered to the scalp, oil streaking down on the forehead is not exactly a pleasant sight. Me, I steer clear of the mirror and avoid looking at my reflection at all costs. I definitely wouldn’t want to scare moi.

To make things easier for busy professionals, hair care companies have hit upon some ingenious ideas. A particular shampoo now comes enriched with oil. In the ad, a model with her gorgeously long mane bemoans her lack of time with a “magar time kahan” and starts taking a shower fully clothed in the middle of a field. It does leave me a little perplexed though, are we meant to carry this shampoo bottle around and start washing our hair under the first tube well we spot? Hair oil companies are constantly tapping for new sources of oil. As if amla, almond, mustard, coconut, olive, hibiscus was not enough, we now have walnut, jojoba, wheat germ and exotic herbs fresh off the Himalayas joining the exalted rank.

I am very unlike my mom and prefer variety to loyalty. I change my oil and shampoo every few months. Any new fancy variety that hits the market; I am the first one to try it. My newest bottle of oil is a mixture of 35 mean sounding herbs, most of them unpronounceable and it stinks. This weekend when I give oily nourishment to my roots, I will try to breathe as little as possible. It shouldn’t be that difficult, I’ve had 22 years of practice after all.