Running away from the dark

There comes a time in a man's life when he feel humbled and overwhelmed. It's almost unbelievable....the helplessness, the doom that beckons him. He feels he has lost it all- His love, his life, his hope, his sanity. The vicissitudes of luck and time teaches him the real worth and might of him. The hands that were always ready to clench the fist outstretch in a begging gesture. Its so depressing, as if the entire universe has conspired against him.....as if God himself has set out on a task to demolish him.
The basic instinct and the obvious reaction then would be to run...run away until all of this has been left far far behind. Until the smell of this legacy of loss doesn't linger in the air we breath. Isn't that how we have climbed all our way to the top of the food chain. By running away. Is that what I'm doing now? Running.................leaving everything behind. Revelling in the fun of escape...............................................????????

The Bald Reality

Prologue

It was a scorching July afternoon, 12 years ago. Everything is so vivid in my mind as if it happened yesterday. The occasion was my “Mundan” (Head shaving) ceremony. I still remember the flash on the barber’s razor as he approached me. I sat quietly bearing testimony to a plethora of failed attempts of subversions and rebellions. And then it occurred- The Ambush.

The barber, whom by now I perceived as a person hardened in sin, with his murderous strokes took less than 10 minutes to annihilate everything that once occurred on the top of my head. My eyes must have moistened when I first met my skinhead image. Yes, I became different, rather abominably different. In the brute school boy’s slang I became a TAKLU and that meant I was out of contention for any pretty girl’s companionship. To cut the long story short- I Was Devastated.

Present Day

I'm working with one of the biggest firm in the world. I feel strong and reborn for I am independent now. The vigor of youth is in its full bloom and I am about to step in the real world. What can possibly go wrong now? But wait, something is wrong. Do I notice a receding hairline of my image? No way, it’s an illusion. There is no ghoulish barber to perpetrate his evil designs on me. My parents don’t have a say in my life anymore. It just can’t happen. But it’s true, I am indeed losing hair. The tufts of hair in my comb have heralded the advent of my baldness. It’s like watching promo of a horror show with me in the lead role. Am I destined to become a grotesque, slap head with shining tonsure? And as most middle aged men become, what will happen if the condition is supplemented with a pot belly? It’s brooding time.

But hey, I am not alone. There is an entire battery of young men who do not take much pride in their coiffure either. Consequently, products like vitalizers, Hair loss creams etc. are sell away hits. Batra clinic has made a booty selling empty hopes to balding young men. Weird smelling, purported “magic potions” have made our lives miserable. When the chemicals failed to cultivate any extra hair, people ran to Yoga phenomenon Baba Ramdev, who suggested rubbing fingernails against each other. The result was hapless people performing the prescribed gesture assiduously. However, hair growth still remained elusive.

So, what do we blame our deficiency on comrades? Is it our genes or the bloodline is the culprit? But wouldn’t that be tantamount to demeaning ourselves? There is a constant threat from our hirsute counterparts as we approach the age of marriage. How do we market ourselves then?
I suggest a two pronged approach to tackle the situation.

1) Capitalizing on superstition

I once heard a village lady saying that bald head is a sign of wealth and intelligence (Did someone call out Sabeer Bhatia?). We can mask our handicap by these preposterous sayings. Let’s be grateful to the institution of arranged marriage and the male dominance in our social set up-the girl doesn’t have much say anyways.

2) Glamour

Let’s vote for bald stars in youth icon competitions. Let Ronaldo be the youth icon for 2007, Vin Diesel the following year and so on. We shall distribute free DVDs of Bruce Willis’ movies in colleges. We will start a signature campaign commending Britney Spears’ head shaving stunt drawing parallel between her bald head and her newfound depression less persona. Let us remind people that David Beckham peaked his popularity when he sported the skinhead look.

Epilogue

I am confident that by implementing the suggested ways we can supplant the stigma associated with losing hair with pride for whatever we are. This is indeed a noble cause for it has been entrenched in the human psyche that a receding hairline attracts repulsion and unacceptability. A lot of time, money and effort are being wasted to galvanize the outer layer of our persona just to fit in this superficial world. No one seems to be caring anymore for the inner beauty which can light up the space you walk into.
This seemingly funny work is an effort on the part of the author to depict the dangerous monkey business that we have been trapped into. Sometimes humor enshrouds in it the reality. The Bald reality.

P.S. While this article was being composed, renowned hair stylist Javed Habeeb announced the expansion of his Salon industry to tier-2 cities.

The Devolution

She would hold my hand and take me out everyday. We would go around the dusty city streets reveling in our companionship. If I behaved nicely, I would most certainly be rewarded with knick knacks like plastic balls or a set of crayons.....Aah I would so yearn for that 1 hour with my mom after school. Those were the carefree kindergarten days when I was living the illusion that all humans are luckiest to be born as humans......
It was the pre liberalisation era in India when poverty was ubiquitous (well it still is but veneered by false optimism) and people's purchasing power scornable. Our family, living in a one room flat was no exception. However, the modest upbringing that my parents could offer never shaped our relationship. To be honest that was the closest I was ever to my parents...........

Seasons changed and governmnets toppled. Weathering umpteenth scams, scandals riots and goofs India still somehow managed to become an economic superpower (yeah...thats the word we Indians love to use...superpower ;)) and living standards rose miraculously. Unlike yesteryears you did not have to be hardened in sin to own a car or know a politician to watch colour TV. India is doing well economically and so did my folks. Mom draws a respectable salary which when pooled with dad's take home can buy most of the latest electronic gadgets. I have a job of my own which is making me age faster than I should. However, something must have gone terribly wrong......WE HARDLY TALK NOW.

Was it the constant nagging and prodding to compete with the neigbour's son or was it the incessant advises of my parent's guests regarding my career? Was it the mom's colleague who teaches History in her college and who so feverishly advised me to pursue engineering or was it my dad's refusal to take me out anywhere with him when I could not top in my class?

Somthing did go wrong. And it was not just in my family, every home has the same story. Parents so conveniently compare their kids with the neighbour's but alas the vice versa never happens. There seems to be a madness spread everywhere like a wild fire. Everyone wants to be rich and successful. Every kid has to be a viz kid....atleast better than the neighbour's kid. The only topic moms are left with to discuss is the grade sheet of their sons/daughters. The number of zeros in the paycheck of a graduating daughter makes a dad ecsatatic. Thats what globalization and liberalization has done to India. It has transformed our kids into racing horses. they have to be profitable.
Among all this brauhaha and chaos I sometimes see a small kid holding his mom's hand walking on the dusty streets frolicking and revelling in her company..............