Amila Karmakar

The air in Bangalore, India, feels heavy today, a stark contrast to the lightness in my heart. In a few weeks, our family will be leaving this bustling city for the quieter streets of Surat. My husband, our two sons, and I are ready for this change. As an art historian, I've been fortunate to secure a position at the state museum there, a dream come true.

My faith has always guided me through life's transitions. With these significant changes on the horizon, I felt compelled to seek divine blessings. A few days ago, I made a pilgrimage to the Palani temple complex, a place I last visited a decade ago. This time, my purpose was profound; I offered my long, cherished hair as a sacrifice.

The temple's landscape has evolved dramatically in ten years. The hair business has transformed Palani, with prosperity evident in its expanded structures and facilities. It's common knowledge that the temple sells the hair to sustain itself, a necessity with millions of pilgrims visiting annually. The sheer volume of sacrificed hair is astounding, especially given the global demand for Indian hair extensions and wigs. Our hair, known for its beauty and durability, travels far—processed in Italy and sold in the West.

As I shaved my head, I couldn't help but wonder who might end up wearing my hair. Perhaps a woman seeking confidence through a new look, or someone regaining their sense of self after illness. The thought brought a smile to my face.

The sensation of my bare scalp is strange yet liberating. The timing couldn't be better with the oppressive summer heat. But beyond physical relief, there's a deeper satisfaction. My sacrifice contributes to the temple's upkeep and, in some small way, to someone else's happiness.

At 38, embarking on this new chapter, I find solace in knowing I've honored my faith and supported a cause close to my heart. As we prepare for our move to Surat, I carry with me a renewed sense of purpose and a lighter spirit, ready for the adventures that await.