Nepal, Feb. 22 -- The day finally arrived when Pun Dai felt that his hair had grown enough to trim it short. It could be that he was seized by the irresistible desire to visit the barber, and he didn't care if the hair was still short. At around 7 in the morning, his mother called him to their small dining room, and they drank their tea silently. Afterwards, he emerged from the house and soaked in the warm sunshine. "I'm going for a haircut," he said in a voice so small that he didn't know whether it reached his mother, whose hearing had subsided with age.

But this time, fortunately, she had heard it, and she couldn't help but laugh, displaying her hideous teeth. "Look! This stupid boy! There are hardly a hundred strands of hair on his s...