Samyuktha Menon's Tirumala Visit

Samyuktha Menon was one of the young actresses in the South Indian film industry. Born in Kerala, she had worked in Tamil, Telugu, and Malayalam movies, earning praise for her performances and charm. Off-screen, she preferred a quiet life at home, away from the constant glare of the media. Her mother, Malavika Menon, a single parent, had been looking after her since childhood. A woman of strong faith, Malavika believed in old traditions and the peace one found in temple visits. To her, Samyuktha was not a glamorous celebrity but simply her Sammu kutty, the little girl she had raised with care. One evening, they sat together at the dinner table, the aroma of Malavika’s special sambar filling the room.

 “Sammu kutty, I was thinking… it’s been long since we went to Tirumala,” Malavika said casually, breaking the silence. Samyuktha looked up from her plate, curious. “Temple trip, amma? Any special reason?” she asked. Malavika smiled. “A small vow I made… I want to fulfil it before the year ends.” Samyuktha nodded slowly. “Ah, so it’s one of those trips… mottai trip, right?” she teased lightly, making her mother chuckle. By the end of the meal, the plan was set — they would leave for Tirumala in two days.  The early morning journey was calm, the car winding through the green hills. They spoke of work, family, and the pleasant weather. 

Somewhere between the casual chatter, Malavika’s tone softened. “You know, Sammu kutty, there’s something special about doing mottai in Tirumala,” she said, looking out at the road ahead. “It’s a sign of gratitude… letting go of vanity, offering yourself completely to God. Many women do it — young, old, rich, poor — all the same before Him.” Samyuktha listened quietly, resting her head on the seat, not reading too much into her mother’s words. To her, it was just another one of amma’s stories about faith. As the car rolled through the busy streets of Tirumala, Samyuktha leaned back, scrolling on her phone. But somewhere in her mind, a small doubt had started. 

The way her amma spoke earlier about mottai… it sounded like she wanted her to do it too. “Amma, listen… I have a movie shoot next week. If I shave my head now, the director will be shocked. Fans will think badly. You know how much people love my long hair,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm but firm. Malavika only smiled faintly, eyes still on the road ahead. “Sammu kutty, mottai is not something to fear,” Malavika replied gently, her tone steady. “It is a blessing. We give away our pride, our beauty, to God, and He gives back more than we imagine. This is not about your films or fans, this is about you and Him.” Her voice grew more certain. “I have decided, Sammu kutty. 

No matter what, you will also do mottai with me. This trip is for both of us.” Samyuktha looked at her in surprise, realizing her mother had already made up her mind. “Amma, please… I’m not ready for this,” Samyuktha tried again, hoping to escape the idea. Malavika chuckled, then reached over and held her daughter’s ear and gave a firm pinch with her fingers. “Enough excuses,” she said playfully but with a clear warning in her eyes. “You’re my daughter first, actress later.” Samyuktha sighed, sinking back into her seat, her mind already racing. How would she face the industry, the cameras, and the endless questions? The car slowed as they entered the temple complex. 

finally stopping at a quiet cottage reserved for visiting celebrities. They entered the cottage and sat for a while, letting the cool air wash over them after the long ride. A knock at the door brought in Barber Raghu, carrying his small kit. Samyuktha turned to the manager, “Can we get a chair or stool?” she asked, hoping for a little comfort. But Malavika shook her head. “No, Sammu kutty… no celebrity liberty here. We do it the proper way.” Raghu spread a small towel on the floor, opened his tools, and waited. Malavika sat cross-legged on the towel, bent her head forward, ready for the mottai. Raghu dipped his hands in water and began wetting Malavika’s thick hair, parting it into two sections. 

The first strokes of the razor were slow and steady, clearing the hair from the crown. Samyuktha sat nearby, fingers clutching her saree pallu, feeling her own hair fall over her shoulders as she leaned forward. Her eyes followed every movement — the wet strands falling to the floor, the quiet scrape of the blade against skin. In just minutes, Malavika’s head was smooth and shining. She stood up, running her palm over it with a calm smile. “Your turn, Sammu kutty,” Malavika said, still touching her mottai. Samyuktha walked over slowly and sat down, her heart racing. “Please do it slowly and carefully,” she told Raghu. “He is experienced,” Malavika replied in her firm mother’s tone. Then she added,

 “Leave a small mudi in the center, don’t shave it off.” Samyuktha’s eyes widened. “Amma, why? It will look awkward.” Malavika’s voice softened but stayed sure. “You are still unmarried. Full shave is not allowed as per our tradition.” Raghu began shaving, and Samyuktha’s body tensed at the first touch of the blade. The cool water ran down her neck, the razor moved in smooth strokes, and hair slid down into her lap. With every pass, she felt lighter, the sound of hair being cut away almost rhythmic. It was strange — a mix of nervousness and something she couldn’t name. Raghu finished once, and before she could breathe in relief, Malavika said, “One more time. Make it smoother.” “Amma, it’s enough,”

 Samyuktha protested, but Malavika didn’t listen. She kept pointing to spots. Raghu carefully went over them again until the scalp was perfectly smooth, leaving only the small shikha at the center, trimmed neatly to the nape. Samyuktha slowly ran her palm over her head, feeling the soft skin. A shy smile appeared — nervous about the world outside, but somewhere inside, she felt an unexpected happiness.Samyuktha and Malavika stepped out of their rooms dressed in bright silk sarees. The morning air in Tirumala was cool, carrying the faint smell of incense from the temple gopuram. The VIP line moved quickly, and within minutes they were standing before Lord Venkateshwara.

Hands folded, eyes closed in prayer. After the darshan, they walked into a side section of the temple premises where large brass bowls were filled with golden turmeric paste. Malavika bent forward, scooped a generous handful, and spread it evenly over her mottai, the bright yellow standing out against her smooth scalp. Samyuktha looked at her mother with slight awkwardness, not sure if she wanted the same. Malavika, without asking, took another handful and gently applied it to Samyuktha’s bald head, carefully avoiding the small shikha at the crown. She explained in a calm tone that turmeric was not just a ritual, but a natural antiseptic, good for any small razor cuts or burns. 

Samyuktha nodded silently, feeling the cool paste sink into her skin. As they stepped out of the main gates, cameras and microphones closed in. The press began asking questions about the mottai, the mudi gone, the surprise bald look, and the experience of the darshan. Samyuktha answered steadily, saying it was a personal act of devotion, and she felt peaceful and proud to have done it. She admitted she enjoyed the experience and did not regret it. The crowd of photographers followed them until they reached the car. By the evening, pictures and short videos of her bald look were all over social media. Comments poured in with appreciation for her courage and respect for her devotion. 

In the middle of it all, a well-known director called her, saying they were remaking Ae Dil Hai Mushkil and her current bald look was perfect for the role played by Anushka Sharma in the original. It was an unexpected coincidence that felt like a reward. She agreed to take the role, and the weeks that followed were filled with shooting schedules, light jokes on set about her mottai, and quick glimpses of her in different costumes. The film came together beautifully. In the end, Samyuktha felt it was more than just a head shave — it was a prayer answered. She had shaved her head for God, and in return, God had given her something just as precious.

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