Johnnys Hairotica

I was at the age generally known as the difficult years for every growing boy when a gorgeous, long-haired lady whom I’ll just call ‘Angel’ entered my life. For close to three years, her influence completely dominated my life and she literally had me at her disposal as it were. This affair had the potential of completely ruining our lives, yet did wonderful things to both of us. Angel literally made my life a heaven. I daresay I did my utmost to reward Angel for her favours.

She was a good five to six years older than I, yet not really old enough. Yet, exhibiting a maturity far surpassing her age she guided me out of the teenage crisis that could’ve finished me. She was studying psychology in college to be a cousellor -- having earlier tried her hand at medicine – which helped a lot. But this magnificent girl totally answered to the title of Angel for me even as an ordinary human being. Looking back, I wonder how fortunate I was to have this angel on my side, taking me to dizzy heights of pleasure possible for only a few.

But, perhaps, I should begin at the beginning.

As I said, it was a difficult time for me, and my parents. Complications at my birth had ensured that my Mom was to have no more issues and my parents had more or less reconciled to it. Financially we were doing well and leading a comfortable life in our one story house along a street dotted on both sides by row houses and compact bungalows. In the house across the street was where Angel lived with her elderly aunt- a spinster- and father, a divorced Salesman. His job took him all over the place and he had no plans of remarrying, quite content with the staus-quo. Our families had become quite friendly over the years, and enjoyed quite a few get-togethers and outings. All this time however, quite surprisingly Angel and I rarely communicated, happy to be doing our own things. In fact, we hardly knew each other.

Somewhere along the way, however Nature had been silently working on all of us as we were all growing up Most of my buddies at school had been noticing disturbing changes in both physique and psyche. I of course was no exception, struggling to come to terms with all the new-found knowledge, not the least of which was the so-called opposite sex. Girls in my co-ed school on their part were also experiencing a very broad range of emotions that played havoc with their physical states, complicated by the more pronounced apparent physical changes.

Angel meanwhile was busy with her psychology thing and very keen on becoming a counsellor after college. She had grown into a big girl, gifted with a glowing mane of golden blonde hair, which she wore in a simple braid, most of the time wound in a large bun concealed under a scarf or some sort of a cape. She also was generously endowed but seemed least aware of it.

I had begun watching her with feelings that I couldn’t fully comprehend. I felt a glow of pleasure whenever I thought of her, felt confounded whenever our families met either at our house or on their terrace, which also had a properly appointed room for Angel’s study, besides having enough space for a cosy tea-party. Our terrace had not been as well kept, but almost as high as theirs, and offered a view of activities going on there.

Somewhere along the line my growing up process got mixed up as it were, and as it turned out later, hormonal over-activity was its cause. I had inherited my parents’ good looks, sound health and a love for music. I used to play guitar, and rather well, I’m told.

A period came when there was a sudden spurt and my overall physique simply went on overdrive. Soon I measured almost 6 Feet, with other matching developments. It was unsettling and frightening, what with my difficult age. Soon my mates found it tough to relate to me as before as I had suddenly become ‘big’. Reactions from elders were equally confusing—girls and women were giving me “the look” with men treating me as competition! All this was playing havoc with my growing mind; soon I withdrew into a protective cocoon and became unreachable. My parents too knew they had a problem child on their hands and began actively seeking ways to 'treat' me. It was at this time that Angel with her golden hair entered my life in a big way.

Our many visits over time to psychiatrists and doctors of various persuasions had produced a lot of medical reports, and my parents maintained a green folder for them. This dossier was to see some additions that day and I remember that morning I’d had a row with Dad with Mom looking hurt, saying nothing. I was feeling wretched, had not shaved or bathed and was being coaxed into taking breakfast with family. A dirty sweatshirt and shorts was all I wore, and made a perfect picture of a mal-adjusted boy-child. Of course all that I can tell now is pure hindsight—back then I was too full of myself to even notice!

The doorbell rang; Dad went to the door and let in Angel and her Dad who had been invited to join us for breakfast, unbeknownst to me. I am sure my Mom must have mentioned it well in advance and assumed I had heard. The pleasantries out of the way, we settled down. Angel was looking radiant in some flowery skirt and an open-neck shirt. She had on a violet scarf fully covering her head. They joined us at the table and presently my Mom served us all.

I sat there, sullen and wondering how I could work up any appetite at all. Others, obviously not similarly constrained, seemed to relish the food and were behaving quite normally. My parents acted as if they had reached some decision, and looked sort of relieved, yet prepared. I managed to push the food around in my plate, acutely aware that I was making things difficult for all and feeling all the more defiant. I idly wondered what Angel must have been thinking about it all. I found her chatting pleasantly with my Mom with occasional contributions from the men. I somehow managed with a few grunts and smiles between mouthfuls.

After a while I simply excused myself, walked over to the far end of the room and stood at the window overlooking our small garden, with my back to the assembly and almost out of earshot.

I noticed that after my exit the atmosphere on the table had been transformed to that of concern and camaraderie with participants conferring in a huddle, talking earnestly. After a while it was Angel who seemed to take the floor and spoke softly at length, with occasional glances in my direction. She had taken off her scarf, revealing a sizeable golden bun, loosely put together. Her face was framed by a few stray tendrils which she tried in vain to pat in place, only succeeding in letting loose a thick long golden strand which punctuated every move of her head. She made a pretty enchanting picture, quite soothing for my frayed nerves.

Presently they all fell silent and then Mom called out my name to invite me to the table. I walked over, not without misgivings.

Now Angel herself addressed me, without preliminaries and waving my green dossier for effect, “Look here, Johnny, we all feel you need help. I have gone through your reports. As you know, I am studying to be a counsellor. If you allow, I’d like to take over. It’s not that I’m doing you any favour, nor do I mean to offend. I need to submit a real life project report for my final terms at the college and to me, this means a lot of valuable experience. We really have nothing to lose trying, and much to gain. You game?” Her deep blue eyes had a frank and open smile about them and the offer seemed quite sincere.

I looked at my folks and her Dad for any cue. None came, and the ball was finally in my court. Looking back, I often wonder what made me take so long to say so, but after some uneasy moments on that fateful morning I decided to put myself in her hands and said, “Yes.” It was a decision that was to influence the very way I lived thereafter!

“When do we start, Ma’am?” I asked of Angel.

“Right away, if it’s OK with all of us here," she replied.

Soon it was agreed at the table that we be sent upstairs to my room for the preliminaries, where she could start her very first session of due diligence as it were. It was also decided to grant us freer access to each others’ houses and rooms and sufficient privacy, for future sittings at all reasonable times. It all sounded so confusingly formal to me, but then I guessed it was fair enough for everyone, though I was not quite sure about what fair and unfair was! The elders had apparently given it much thought and perhaps were merely spelling it out for my benefit.

Presently they were back to discussing some local event coming up shortly, leaving both of us to our own devices. It meant they would be waiting for us there when we returned from our first session. It also was our cue for exit from the room.

With a cheerful smile Angel turned to me and said, “Shall we?” and I nodded not quite knowing if it was really what I wanted. It was a once-in-a lifetime moment and even today I catch myself replaying it in my mind over and over again.

I was acutely aware of the golden mass of her hair and wondered vaguely what it would be like if I ever could get to see its unraveling. It had come quite close to that stage. Many more strands of her hair had by now parted company with the bun and swirled tantalizingly about her, the occasionally flashing blue eyes enhancing the overall spectacle. My mind was on a roll; I was unable to make complete sense of the complex maze of criss-crossing thoughts that stormed my brain. It nearly took my breath away. If she had noticed my attention, she didn’t show it. As luck would have it, and helping me regain my composure, she quickly fixed up her hair with a few deft movements of her hands and the scarf was in evidence again.

She had to be blind to have missed my reaction, I thought. She seemed intent on settling down for a longish talk, focused on the case on hand. For all I knew, she was not even aware that I was so keenly aware of her!

I led her to the stairs and to my room at the far end of the passage upstairs. Gingerly opening the door, I stood aside awkwardly to let her in first. For the first time I became conscious of the difference in our heights, and statures. I felt quite outsized next to her compact and lovely body smelling of some divine fragrance. Once inside the room, with remarkable perceptiveness Angel put me at ease with a dazzling smile and asked “Won’t you offer me a seat, Johnny?” I scrambled to find the best available chair in the room for her, wishing I hadn’t plastered the walls with so many pin-ups .

To her credit, she stared right through them. Motioning me to the chair at the study table near the window she pushed the door, which clicked shut behind her. With both of us seated, she opened my green dossier that she had carried along, and asked, “Ready, Johnny?” “Whenever you are” was all I could say.

“Now, Johnny,” she began, “First things first. Your folks are quite upset to see you so confused and unhappy. I am here to assist you professionally to find whatever it is that’s bothering you. Your reports here tell us nothing except hormonal over-activity and only you can help me in helping you. You’ve got to be frank with me and cooperate by being involved in the treatment. Apart from counselling, I’ll also be using a few things I picked up while trying my hand at medicine. I am telling you this, so you understand that your anatomical or other experiences too are important and I’m going to have to ask you a lot of questions about them. Please don’t be embarrassed, and feel free to ask questions, OK?”

“ Now, remove that shirt of yours, lean back and totally relax, Johnny.”

I wasn’t sure I had heard aright.

Divining my thoughts, Angel explained, “Johnny, I also want to observe you anatomically as you answer my queries. Your body language will be clearer to me. Besides, it’s harder to lie glibly while in a relaxed state, with minimal clothing on!” Very clever, I thought .I had been exercising regularly on medical advice, and I certainly loved to show off my muscular body. I proceeded to take off the shirt. I was not sure, but I thought I espied approval on her face. I took my time about it as if it was some fast vanishing craft of which I was the lone surviving practitioner. I also allowed myself a bit of rippling of muscles and stretched athletically quite unnecessarily. Now only in shorts, I resumed my seat, only to be stumped by Angel’s next remark, “You’ve got a great body, Johnny!” By the time I could find my voice, she had gotten up and wandered off to a corner of my room, to soon return with my estranged and dusty guitar. It had been months since I’d played it last.

Wordlessly she wiped it clean and started strumming right away. Cheerful notes immediately flew off her fingers and I listened appreciatively.

“A bit rusty, am afraid. Haven’t played much of late.” She explained.

“You play quite well, Ma’am. It was lovely!” I commented, sincerely.

“Thanks. When and why did you stop playing?” She wanted to know.

”Ever since this…” I trailed off.

“Music is good therapy, Johnny. Will you play your favourite for me, please?”

“Sure Ma’am. Only for you!” I ventured, and started strumming it like never before.

Something about this beautiful girl and the heady effect she was having on me made me play soulfully for a while. I found myself relaxing and when it ended a dazzling smile and claps rewarded me. I decided it was the best performance I had ever given for an exclusive audience.

“What do you feel about your school-mates, do they like music too?” she asked. By now my guard had been lowered, as I no longer felt threatened or depressed. “A handsome guy like you must be having a lot of girl friends. Do they also know how well you make music?” She wondered.

This encounter was getting better by the minute, I thought. This lovely girl actually called me that? I found myself warming to her. So I felt obliged to confess what a hit I was with the girls, that is until the most unexpected rejections and unwarranted insults almost entirely stopped my socializing, and that I could neither understand nor explain what exactly my fault was .I also told her I was quite good at studies and liked outdoor activities a lot. And that of late I had found peer acceptance not forthcoming, and had gradually drifted away from the social circuit.

I spoke for a while, and more than I had intended to. Angel fixed me with her piercing gaze all the time and listened and observed me attentively. I was happy for the legitimate excuse to stare right back at her, only half believing that I was actually sitting so close to her, watching. Somewhere along the way, her scarf had again come off and I found her absent-mindedly playing with her own hair, which occupied much of my attention. My dossier now was open on her lap, which she referred to from time to time. She also kept prompting me, asking short probing questions, ensuring I talked almost non-stop. I felt completely at ease in her company and felt great relief at the end of this near-soliloquy.

Compassion was writ large on her lovely face, and I felt great stirrings deep within as she looked almost on the verge of reaching out to hug me close to her.

Presently she sprang to her feet and started to pace the floor, perhaps digesting what she’d just heard and read from my reports. She seemed more upset than I was, and her next statement threw me off balance. “Johnny, your body has attained near-manhood, and there’s a boy inside that’s not quite ready yet and can’t make sense of the body’s changed demands. Your mind is unable to articulate and validate the body’s requirements. This has caused internal conflict, and you can’t rationalize either your bodily reactions or thoughts. But not all is lost; we have to update your notions about certain adult concepts, so your mind is more in harmony with the body.”

She smiled reassuringly and continued, “All this mumbo-jumbo is normal in our profession, understand only that from now on we are in this together and we’re going to swing it!” With those words, she came to stand so close to me that I could actually smell her sweet perfume mingling with her shampoo’s fragrance, and a great brew it made. She looked up to me protectively and said, “Johnny, go take a shower and a shave too, please. I’ll go downstairs and tell them we’ll require some more time for this session. I’ll phone home and inform Auntie that I’ll be in only at lunch. Please have faith; we are going to make it!”

Angel soon vanished downstairs. I felt obliged to carry out her wish, and proceeded to make myself presentable for the extended first session. I was feeling quite light after the outpouring, and I actually caught myself humming and whistling softly. Properly dressed and clean-shaven, I bounded down the stairs to reach the dining table to find the assembly eyeing me appreciatively. Their comments made me suddenly realize what a difference it made to them to find me, well, normal. Angel’s smiling eyes thanked me profusely and I felt all warm inside.

It was a triumph for Angel, a sort of coup to get me to behave just normally. My Mom had about her an air of someone feeling vindicated. It later transpired that it was her idea to encourage Angel to accept this challenge, bless her.

Presently our Dads left for their local club and Mom left for the kitchen, again leaving us alone. Angel looked at me with a look that I couldn’t quite fathom, her eyes dancing and a determined air about her. She turned and headed for the stairs, removing her scarf on the way and for a brief moment shaking her hair free for the first time. Before I could blink, she had a loose version of her bun back in place, but not before my mind absorbed the swish and whoosh of that golden blur.

Then I sort of woke up and ran up the steps after her, my heart beating faster and not entirely due to the exertion.

Once in my room, I waited for her to resume her seat and at her signal, relieved myself of most of my clothing.

She further had me drape a towel around my middle and coolly ordered me to discard the underwear too. I obliged, but the towel just about covered my middle and I had to sit straight at my chair, for fear of compromising internal security. Inside, the things were quite beyond my control and comprehension.

Now she said, “Trust me, Johnny, this is not without reason, you’ll see. Now let me tell you something about acceptance. It’s only when you accept yourself fully, as you are, that you can expect others to accept you. Your mind is not able to make complete sense of what the body’s trying to say, nor will the body respect the mind’s admonitions. So, to help you accept yourself, let’s try to facilitate this communication. Let us ensure you know your body well enough to understand and accept it.’’

“Now, tell me a little about your girl-friends. What type they are, their looks and likes. Be as honest as you can while answering. Also, try to watch your own reaction even as you tell me. Start from the one whose company you liked the most. I don’t have to remind that only honestly answering these will help.”

I could tell her of about half a dozen of my friends, and attempted for the first time to analyze them in the manner she had described. I told her of some very happy memories and in no time was talking animatedly as at her prodding I also tried to examine my innermost feelings about them. It was discovery time for me and she seemed to be closely monitoring my slow but steady progress.

She kept at it, asking that occasional risqué question making me squirm, but giving me ever-new perspectives about my body. That it was a woman subjecting me to this catharsis made it at once extremely complicated and elegantly simple.

This journey of undulating passions told me a lot about myself and I could feel pleasurable currents all over the body as I went over and over through the fine nuances of what essentially was a teenager’s emotional perspective, a glimpse of adulthood. Angel had gently walked me to the stage, where I no longer felt burdened. So when it came, I was ready for her question, “Johnny, what is the single feature that attracted you to these girls on a physical plane? They all seem to me quite unlike each other. Also, please try and tell me the exact nature of that attraction, try to introspect. Do take your time.”