The Bonding Ritual of Hair Oiling
Words by Rosa Kumar
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The Bonding Ritual of Hair Oiling by Rosa Kumar
Every Sunday I come home to visit my parents in the suburbs. At 28 years old, without fail, I pack up my overnight bag, say farewell to my partner, and hop on the highway to their house. Unless I’m traveling, I rarely miss a Sunday night at theirs, because it’s a Sunday filled with rituals and self-care. We call them Sabji Sundays, where my parents spend the afternoon meal prepping 3-4 sabjis (also called sabzis, or cooked vegetable dishes) for the rest of the week, along with fresh juice, smoothies, and if I’m lucky, date squares and pinnies. All of which will then be lovingly packed in a literal wicker basket for me to take back to my condo, to help supplement my meals for the rest of the week.
But perhaps the most important ritual for me happens at 10PM every Sunday night, right before we go to bed. My mom will walk into my bedroom in her pajamas, sometimes holding a little stainless steel bowl of heated oil, and I’ll sit down at my desk chair. She’ll shake out my thick, tangled hair, do a little inspection to make sure it’s still healthy (so much can change in a week, apparently), admire my silvering strands, and painstakingly comb out the tangles, section by section. Sometimes we will sit in exhausted silence from a long week, other nights we will gab away, her giving me a longer scalp massage if what we’re talking about is particularly juicy.