RITUAL HEADSHAVE

FOR FUN, AI IMAGES
It begins in a city flat, with ordinary habits and familiar comforts. A quiet life. A full head of hair. A mustache he absentmindedly twirls while watching television. Nothing feels urgent. Nothing feels fragile.

Then a phone rings.

With that call, the world shifts. His father is gone.

What follows is not loud grief, but a silent journey—packing a bag at night, a train cutting through darkness, and a return to a village that feels both known and distant. At home, surrounded by people, he stands alone before a garlanded photograph, absorbing a loss that words cannot reach.

In keeping with tradition, he walks toward the river. Not as an act of surrender, but of acceptance. Beneath the open sky, his hair is shaved. Then his beard. Then his mustache. Each stroke removes more than hair—it releases identity, memory, and attachment. What remains is presence.

He enters the river and rises again, stripped of what he was, grounded in what he must become.

The final image is simple: a man seated beneath his father’s photograph, gently touching his smooth, shaved head. No tears. No dialogue. Only stillness.

This is a story about loss without spectacle.
About ritual as remembrance.
About becoming lighter, not empty.

Thank you for watching.
If this story resonated with you, consider sharing it with someone who understands silence.
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