Once upon a time, there was a girl. An average girl, not too pretty, not too ugly; not too tall, not too short; not too talkative, not too quite, just an average girl. But there was one thing that was different about her and that was her long, beautiful, dark hair that went went way below her knees. She had had them all her life and didn't think that they were anything too good at all but everybody always told her they were really pretty so eventually even she started believing it. Her long hair became such an integral part of her life that her whole life revolved around washing, styling and caring for them. Her whole salary went into buying expensive shampoos and serums for them. As a result, they became even more beautiful and she started being called "the long haired girl" and she loved it. She thought they made her unique and hence "special".

One night there was a party she was invited to and even though she usually preferred sitting at home and reading a book but today she decided to go because she knew she'll be praised for her hair there and hence to feel special she got dressed up and took great care to style her hair. As expected everybody immediately noticed her hair and she got a lot of praise for them after feeling special and accepted she joined the girls for some drinks. But she was new to all of this and drinks hit her harder than she expected she was out like a candlle before she knew it.

Next morning when she woke up, her head felt heavy and it hurt. She decided to leave for home. She took a bath and to her horror realised that her long hair were not longanymore. Someone had cut her hair last night and not too neatly at that. Now they barely came to her shoulders. Earlier they were tied and she had a major hangover so she didn't realise how short they were. Seeing her hair she broke down. She couldn't think of anyone who would be horrible enough to do this to her. My hair, she thought, they were the only special thing about me. Why did this happen to me and who would do this to me were the thoughts that consumed her days and nights. She couldn't eat, couldn't go to work. Nothing.

Eventually she had to go to work and come to terms with the fact that she now had short hair. Because no matter what metamorphic event has happened to you, the world around doesn't stop for you to catch up. It goes on as it always has and you have to pick yourself up and match its pace. Nobody looked at her twice now, days went by and nobody praised her. She was getting more and more depressed each day having lost her prized possession, her long hair. Everything else in her life was the same but but nothing felt the same to her. She had no friends and whenever anyone tried to approach her, she showed no interest because what could they possibly want with her now. She tried to regrow her hair but they were taking their own sweet time with it as good things always do.

One day things got so bad that she decided to quit her job. As she went in to hand in her resignation, she saw a young girl waiting for her interview. She looked nervous and inspite of herself, she went to talk to her. After talking to her she found outthat like herself she too was from a small town and how this was such a big opportunity for her to be independent and have a life of her own. She realised how excited the new girl was, how her eyes twinkled when she talked about finally being able to live alone.

With a jolt, she realised what a mistake she was going to make. This was the same job that she had fought for with everyone in her family who thought girls don't need to work and she was better off getting married instead. How come suddenly this job, that has given her so much in life, didn't seem importing enough? All this because someone has decided to play a cruel joke on her by chopping off her hair. But she was so much more than just her hair. She was smart and managed her finances and took good care of herself in a a big city away from home.

So she decided to give life another chance. She decided that her hair may have been a very important part of her life but nothing was more important than her independence. Her hair could get back but this job or this lifestyle would be much harder to get back. Her real beauty lay inside her, not outside. Her strength and her resilience were her main assets that would stay with her forever. Nobody could come and take them away in the darkness of night ever. So she decided to live again.