Roopa looked worried; her eyes swelled up with tears. She had just hung up the phone with Menon-uncle, who is also the manager of her bank. About a year ago, a substantial sum of money was taken from the bank to purchase equipment for her new business. Roopa was already an Instagram star, boasting more than 300k followers. She began by posting pictures of her beautiful, thick, long hair that reached below her knees on her Instagram page. The response was instant, prompting her to start her own hair-oil manufacturing unit.

However, things took a turn for the worse right from the beginning. Although she had many Instagram followers who expressed interest in her hair oil, only a handful actually made purchases. To compound matters, Roopa’s husband squandered all the profits. For several months now, she hadn’t made any payments to the bank.

Her sole source of income now came from her job as a pharmacist at a shop in the nearby town of Lohar. Her meager salary barely covered groceries and her daughter’s schooling. It fell far short of covering the interest on her bank loan. Menon-uncle from the bank warned her that if she couldn’t pay at least a few months’ interest, strict measures would be taken, leaving him helpless. The shop where she worked was run by an elder Marwadi, and she doubted she could secure even a rupee advance from her salary there.

“Roopa di, you look so worried. What happened? Any problems?” Vipin asked, the Marwadi’s youngest son. He looked after the shop in the afternoon when there were no sales. Vipin had just finished his +2 schooling. Roopa had a good rapport with him; they chatted frequently during their free time. For Roopa, talking to Vipin felt like chatting with her little brother or even her son. He was well-mannered and a gentleman.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Vipin. Just my money problems—it’s not going to end anytime soon,” Roopa said, pressing her face sadly into her palms.

“It’s the bank now. I need to pay something by the end of this month, or else they’ll take action,” Roopa said, trying to lighten the situation with a touch of humor.

“Don’t worry, Roopa di. Everything will be okay soon,” Vipin reassured her.

“But didi, do you have any plans on how to find the money? I don’t think papa will pay any advance—you already know that, right?” Vipin’s helplessness was evident on his face.

“Oh dear, I know your papa. I’m grateful for the job he gave me; at least it helps put food on the table every day. And I’m happy to have a good friend like you here,” Roopa said, touching Vipin’s shoulder.

“So, you were asking if I have any plans? Hmm… nothing specific, my dear.”

“Didi, don’t worry. Let me ask around and see what’s possible,” Vipin said. “You had many followers on your Instagram page; why don’t we explore something in that direction?”

“Oh, my… no, Vipin. I lost everything because of that. I’m not going anywhere near social media again,” Roopa replied.

“Didi, this time I am going to help you. Just give me a day—I’ll find something for you. By the way, what is your bank’s interest amount?” Vipin asked.

“7500, and I have missed around 5 EMIs,” Roopa said, looking away from Vipin.

“Okay, so they want you to pay at least 3 months’ interest, right? That’s 22500,” Vipin calculated.

“Let me see what I can do.”

As the day went by, Roopa now simply pulled her thick, long hair into a tight braid or a bun while at work—nothing extravagant. Her interest had waned. She used to trim the ends of her hair regularly, but now that it was uneven, she often folded the end of her braid to conceal it. When she wore a bun, it was usually a simple one; occasionally, she secured it with a pencil or a pen. Even then, her hair would attract every eye that entered the shop. What she didn’t know was that she had a secret admirer: Vipin. He loved her beautiful long hair and spent the whole day admiring his Roopa-di’s hair. That was the sole reason he started working in his father’s small shop. His only regret was that he hadn’t seen her hair open in all its full glory, even after these three months since she joined.”

Roopa’s hair was always so captivating, especially to Vipin!

***

Vipin had this big smile on his face when he saw Roopa the next day. “Roopadi, there is good news for you” just wait until the lunch break.  

“What’s it Vipin, please tell me that you took a lottery for me yesterday and it won the first prize” Roopa jokingly said. 

“Ah, something like that,” Vipin said. “Anyway, wait until the break,” he added uninteresting while checking the accounts.

Roopa, unwrapping her lunch with delicate fingers, cast a curious glance his way. “So, what’s that news you’ve been burning to tell me?” she inquired, the anticipation clear in her voice as she settled comfortably beside him in their usual secluded spot in the dining area.

“Hmm… you want to see the lottery, Roopa-di? Okay, then close your eyes,” Vipin said.

Roopa’s hair cascaded down in a braid, meticulously woven and resplendent. She let it fall across her shoulder, allowing the plait’s folded end to rest gently upon her lap. The moment Roopa’s eyelids fluttered shut, Vipin found himself captivated by the texture and complexity of each thick, lustrous loop entwined within her hair. It was a privilege he cherished, observing the intimate artistry of her braid from such proximity for the very first time. With a tenderness born of long-held yearning, Vipin cradled her braid in both hands, lifting it ever so slightly. This touch, this moment of connection with her hair, was something he had longed for since their paths first crossed.

Roopa’s braid, thick and beautiful rested weightily in Vipin’s hands. Yet, it was the softness amidst its dense weave that captivated him. The braid, a dark cascade of silken strands, seemed to weave a spell over his senses as it lay across his palms. The proximity of Roopa’s hair, its sweet fragrance wafting up, only heightened Vipin’s exhilaration. He yearned to plant a kiss upon the lustrous locks that he held—a treasure beyond compare.

“Open your eyes now, Roopa-di,” Vipin urged, with her braid still cradled in his hands, now hovering before her face.

“This is your lottery,”

He announced, a smile in his voice. “From here, your gorgeous hair will make all your dreams come true, starting with this.” With one hand, he presented his mobile, displaying a payment confirmation for Rs 25,000, the first payment ever for her valued tresses.

Before letting her braid down back in her lap, Vipin gently squeezed it within his hand—a gesture he had always longed to make. “And don’t worry,” he assured Roopa, “this payment is just the first of many to come.” His smile met her eyes, filled with a promise of brighter days ahead. 

Vipin’s gaze fell upon Roopa-di, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m at a loss for words, Vipin,” she whispered. “You’ve saved my life. I had no clue how to manage those bank payments in just a few weeks.” Tears traced their way down her cheeks, and she covered her face with both hands, her sobs gentle and peaceful. Vipin reached out, placing his hand on her head, in a soft caress. His fingers traced her beautiful hair from her forehead to where her braid began. “It’s all right, Roopa-di,” he assured her. “Your little brother is here to help.”

“So let’s talk about work.” Vipin tried to change the subject and bring her back to her happy self. “Roopa-di, they have already made the payment. Now we have to make a hair styling video for them by Monday. A 25 minute video.” 

“Oh my, a 25-minute video!” Roopa exclaimed, her eyes widening. “What I’ve done so far are only a few seconds-long Insta Reels, Vipin. What on earth could I possibly show for a whole 25 minutes?” Her worry was palpable.

Vipin leaned in, a reassuring smile on his face. “Don’t fret, Roopa-di,” he said. “Your little brother is here, after all. And guess what? They’ve given us detailed instructions for the video.” He paused, excitement bubbling within him. “Let me read out their requirements.”

He cleared his throat and began listing them one by one:

Video category: Hair care and styling video. Participants: 2, Long Hair Model and a male friend. Face reveal: required for the long hair model. Attire: Pink/Magenta Salwar or Saree. Format: 4K MP4 Video. 

  1. Starting scene: Opening a braided bun.
  2. Combing and smelling
  3. Heavy Oiling and hair massage
  4. Oily combing and braiding 
  5. Shampoo wash
  6. Closing scene: Friend collects models wet hair and wraps it in a towel.

Roopa listened intently, her mind racing. She knew she lacked proper equipment for creating a high-quality video, and her perpetually drunk husband wasn’t exactly a reliable co-star. “Oh my God, Vipin!” she blurted out. “I have no clue how we’ll manage this. And my husband—well, he’s usually three sheets to the wind these days.”

Vipin’s determination kicked in. “Fear not, Roopa-di,” he declared. “We’ve got this. Today and tomorrow, I’m free at home. Plus, Sunday is your day off. If you can swing by my place early tomorrow morning, we’ll plan the shoot nicely. By evening—or maybe even by afternoon—we’ll have our video ready.”

Roopa hesitated. “But what about the oiling, washing, and other requests?” she wondered aloud. “And how in the world can I ask you to smell my hair?”

Vipin chuckled. “Didi, don’t worry,” he reassured her. “Just come over to my house tomorrow at 7 AM. We’ll figure it out together. And hey, we can even have breakfast while we’re at it!”

“Roopa-di.. Sleep with a really tight braid today. So tomorrow when we do the video we could get beautiful waves” Vipin asked as he walked away.

***

The doorbell chimed, and Vipin practically leaped to answer it. There stood his big sister, Roopa, clad in a light blue Salwar Kameez. “Ohh, Roopa-di, you’re right on time!” Vipin ushered her inside, leading her to the cozy dining hall.

Roopa’s long hair was tightly braided, evidence that she’d followed Vipin’s instructions—keeping it in that tight braid overnight. “I hope your father won’t mind me being here,” Roopa fretted.

Vipin waved off her concern. “No worries,” he assured her. “I’ve already informed Dad that you’re here to help me with the account books. He won’t suspect a thing.”

As they surveyed the spacious house, Roopa wondered aloud, “Where should we shoot the video? This living room alone is bigger than my entire house!”

Vipin grinned. “Upstairs,” he declared. “My room—it’s more comfortable, and we’ll have all the space we need.”

Roopa chuckled. “Anywhere works for me. Today, you’re the boss—I’ll just follow your orders today.” She hesitated, then added, “By the way, I had a little something to eat before coming over. Didn’t want to trouble you too much.”

Vipin mirrored her sigh. “Funny you mention it—I ate too, but skipped the coffee.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “If you’re up for it, Roopa-di, could you make us some coffee? The coffee powder and sugar are right there.”

Roopa sprang into action, grateful to do something for Vipin. As she prepared the coffee, Vipin’s excitement bubbled over. “You know,” he said, “I always wished for a big sister like you. You making me coffee—it means the world to me.”

Roopa blushed, her fingers measuring out the coffee and sugar. “And Roopa-di,” he teased, “I’ve always admired your beautiful long hair. It’s so gorgeous.”

Roopa’s eyes widened. “Really?” she asked. “Is it okay if I—well, you know—smell it? For the video, of course, I’ll have to do it.” Without waiting for her reply, he lifted the braid to his nose, inhaling deeply.

The air carried the sweet scent of Roopa’s hair, enveloping Vipin’s senses. For a fleeting moment, he lost all control, as if the fragrance itself held some magical power. “Oh, Roopa-di,” he breathed, “your hair—it’s like the sweetest perfume I had ever known. Truly mesmerizing.”

Roopa blushed, her heart fluttering. Vipin, her little brother, had never complimented her like this before. It felt like a warm sunbeam after months of cloudy days. She closed her eyes, savoring the unexpected joy.

Vipin stood behind Roopa and continued to smell her long braid. Going up very slow, his nose traced each loop of her beautiful braid upwards. Roopa felt his warm breath caressing her neck. 

“Ahhhhhmmm..”

Roopa let out a soft moan, she was surprised by Vipin’s closeness and his warmth. She could feel goosebumps all over her, a shiver going through her spine. Suddenly Roopa came to her senses “Ohh.. the milk is done now..”. She said looking at the boiling milk which was about to overflow. Roopa felt awkward behaving like that with Vipin, for a second she was overwhelmed with his care and love. 

“Ohh Roopa-di, I just realised how much I love beautiful long hair.” Vipin said as they sat on the dining table sipping coffee.

***

Roopa glanced at the sun-kissed railing of the balcony, the breeze teasing her heavy braid. Vipin’s enthusiasm was contagious. Perhaps this was the twist of fate she needed. She nodded, her heart fluttering like a captured butterfly.

“Roopa-di,” Vipin sounded very excited, “what if we shoot the video right here on the balcony?” His eyes sparkled, thinking about the scene. “The natural light is perfect, and look”—he showed her the small stool with different combs, hair care oils, and even a wash basin borrowed from the nearby salon—“we’ve got everything we need.”

“Come Roopa-di, this is your royal throne now, sit here and let me adjust the camera angle first” He asked, showing her a very comfortable looking stool with a small back support. 

“Perfect” he said “you are looking awesome Roopa-di” 

Vipin pushed the small stool to keep it near Roopa. She looked closely, there was a wide toothed wooden comb, and a beautiful hair brush, a fancy big crystal bottle with a clear fluid which Roopa inferred to be coconut oil and different types of hair clips, hair bands and decorative hair pins. 

“The arrangement looks so professional. Do we need to use all this oil? It looks like 500ml or something” Roopa asked.

“Didi, they have mentioned clearly about heavy oiling, what they want to see is oil dripping from your hair when we finish. So I hope this would be almost enough for your thick long hair” Vipin’s eyes measured the beauty and heaviness of Roopa’s braid now hanging behind her on the chair.

“Make a beautiful bun with your braid, will you didi” Vipin asked. His heart was beating even faster when Roopa took her long braid in her hands and started coiling it again and again to make a beautiful bun. After tucking in the tail of her braid deep into the bun, Roopa took a hair pin and pushed it along the side until the other end came out. She ran her palm over her hair and her bun to make sure everything was secure. 

“How is this ? Should I do it again? Please check and tell me Vipin” Although Roopa had so many times done a braided bun or any other hairstyles, she was worried now sitting before the camera. 

As Vipin stepped behind Roopa, his hands trembled slightly as he gently reached for her hair bun. Despite using both of his hands, he could only cover a small portion of her voluminous hair. The braided bun was a stunning masterpiece, with intricate loops and knots that seemed to form a work of art on her head. As Vipin’s fingers traced the intricate patterns in her hair, he felt his heart quicken and a sudden surge of desire in his lower half. He wanted to press his pelvis against Roopa’s back, and he could feel himself growing larger inside his tight boxers as his throbbing arousal strained against the fabric.

“WOW!! So perfect Roopa-di.. So let’s start. We begin recording after I say the word ACTION. I will come from behind and open your bun and continue opening it and all..”

Vipin went behind his camera and pressed the record button. ACTION!! He shouted.

Roopa felt the softest touch on her bun as Vipin gently caressed it with both his hands. She closed her eyes deciding to enjoying every moment.

.. to be continued.