JULY 14, 2019 • THE WEEK 71because they are not as ceaselessly
hounded by the choicest of epithets
when they don’t have time to fi x their
unruly tangles?
Suresh, a 26-year-old MPhil gradu-
ate, has taken a break from his prepa-
ration for the civil service exams to
watch a World Cup cricket match at a
Starbucks in Delhi. He instantly stands
out with his glossy mop of dense, black
curls. He does not feel the need to use
conditioners, gels or shampoos free ofwork with afro-textured hair. “Any
conversation with a woman of African
descent invariably turns to the topic of
hair, where we share our disappoint-
ment at not having found [a hairdress-
er] yet,” says Okero. “I googled African
hair salons in Delhi and only two
popped up. Indian salons are absolutely
out of the question.”
Okero might be surprised to learn
that Indian salons are unsympathetic
to Indian women with curly hair, too.
“They say things like what kind of hair
do you have? Quickly straighten it, go
for hair spa, blow-dry it, put keratin....,”
says 45-year-old Richa Madhukar, a
member of ICP, where women regularly
post stories of their horrid experiences
in salons. “No salon in India under-
stands curly hair.” Madhukar, a sales
head at a food company, grew up with
names like bhootni, Sai Baba and po-
meranian for her tightly-coiled tresses.
It was only last year that she decided
to put an end to the multiple cycles of
straightening and embrace her defi ant
curls, frizz or no frizz. From ICP, she
picked up hacks which play up and
defi ne her curls, like how to use deep
conditioners as hair spa, apple cider
vinegar as cleansing shampoo and
fl axseed for hair gel. “Why should I
spend so much time and money in a
salon to look like everyone else?” she
asks. “Now I can fi nally go out for a
swim. I can go for a jog in the rains
without a care. It took me 45 years
to appreciate what I have. Letting my
curls be has been all about acceptance
and self-love.”
ICP also has members who have
reclaimed their curls in their sixties,
says Asha Barrak, its founder. She
started it in early 2015, after her blog—
Right Ringlets—started getting traction.
This January, she launched India’s fi rst
brand for curly hair called Ashba Botan-
ics. Its products are free of sulphates,
silicones, parabens, drying alcohol and
artifi cial colour. The products went into
production after three years of her own
research, testing and formulation. She
says it is FDA approved. “Learning how
to manage your curls is a life-changing
experience,” she says. “You are reborn
as a new person, with more confi dence
and self-possession.” According to
Barrak, not many men have evinced
interest in joining the group. Is it
sulphate—an ingredient most commonly
used in dish-soaps. “I have never had to
apply any products to tame or style it. I
don’t really care,” he says. Although he
does not ever want to grow his hair, he
does like women with long, dark curls.
“But to be fair, I don’t really see many
women with curls,” he admits. Is it a
surprise that he has not? Half of them
want to play it smooth and straight.
But yes, sporting curls is now
considered cool and chic. Curly-haired
women are perceived by some to have
a devil-may-care attitude. But Juneja
cautions against such exoticisation.
According to her, naturally curly hair is
not considered elegant in India, unless
you groom it well. It is bushy, wild,
tousled and frizzy. “In fact, every day is
diff erent. People with curling wands do
not understand that. For them, getting
curls is just an end,” she says. “And
acceptance is diffi cult to get even if
you learn to take care of your curls.
You need to keep fi ghting the battle of
perception.”It took me 45 years
to appreciate what
I have. Letting my
curls be has been all
about acceptance
and self-love.Richa MadhukarRicha Madhukar