The Legendary Head Shave Tales

Ratri padukune mundu Saraswathi dressing table mundu kurchuni tana nadumu varaku unde ottaina nallani juttu ni mellaga duvvukuntundi. Roju school ki velladaniki chakkaga mudivesukunna, intiki vachaka matram danini vadilesi tirigi duvvukovadam aameki alavatu. Juttu motham duvvi, oka saari addamlo chusukuni, danini gattiga mudivesukundi. Ade samayamlo pakkane unna deevana meeda Prasad repatiki vesukovalsina shirt ni istri cheskuntu unnadu. “Repu library lo work ekkuva unda andi?” ani Saraswathi adigindi. “Avunu bujji. Kotha books vachchayi kada, avi arrange cheyyali. Madhyanam varaku ayipothe chaalu,” ani annadu Prasad. “Nadi sare, nee school lo enti sangathulu?” “Peddaga em led andi. Na class lo pillalu drawing kanna pichi geethalu ekkuva geestharu. 2 weeks lo anuual day function undi anta, daani kosam Art and craft department head ni nanne chesaru so konchem busy ga untundi anthe.” Ala valliddaru roju vari panula gurinchi matladukuntu undaga, Saraswathi sudden ga, “Yevandi... nenu... g...

Bengaluru’s Monday morning traffic was already at its worst as employees rushed into the glass-covered tech park, carrying laptops, coffee cups and tired faces. Inside the office, Chiranjeevi, a fifty-year-old senior manager known for his strict discipline and sharp tongue, was already reviewing the project status when Vidya finally entered. She was late, and it was impossible not to notice how rushed she looked—her thick hip-length hair was still slightly wet from her morning head bath, hanging loose and uneven because she had not even had time to comb it properly. Most of her coworkers were already seated, looking neat and ready for the day, while Vidya quietly walked toward her desk hoping nobody would make an issue out of it. Chiranjeevi looked up, stared at her for a few seconds, and said, “Vidya. My cabin. Now.” She entered a few minutes later, and he calmly asked, “What is the current status of the project? When are we sending the final presentation? And why am I asking you thes...