Vinay was born with a fabulous head of hair. When he was a teeny tiny baby, people would stop me in the middle of the street to comment on how much hair he had.
His curls are gorgeous (if slightly out of control). When his hair is wet, it goes down past his shoulders. It’s longer than mine! I have a whole array of clips and rubber bands to keep his hair neat. And my sister says he looks like Krusty the Clown when we tie it up. But I love it. I love the curls. I love burying my face in them and smelling his baby scent.
He’s (obviously) very attached to his hair as well. When he’s looking at books, drinking his milk, thinking or falling asleep – he often strokes his own hair. I think he finds it very soothing.
And that’s why I’m so upset.
Tomorrow, Vinay will have his head shaved.
I knew it was going to happen. As soon as I knew I was having a baby boy, I knew that we would have to shave his head when he was in his thirteenth month. But that doesn’t make it any easier! It will grow back, of course – but it will never be the same.
In the Hindu tradition, the hair a baby is born with is associated with undesirable traits from past lives. So, at the time of the ‘munan’, the child is shaven to signify freedom from the past and moving into the future (thank you Wikipedia). Apparently, shaving the hair is also meant to stimulate proper growth of the brain and nerves.
This is just one of his rites of passage *crying*