I screamed back at amma (mom).
‘I am sick and tired of telling you to shave. Don’t you have any shame walking around like this.’
‘Ma, I am sick and tired of hearing your screams.’
‘I am sick and tired of telling you. Get up and shave for god’s sake.’
‘No. I like it this way Ma’
Mom walks and sits nearby,
‘Is it that I am old and my words don’t matter anymore? It’s not good for a person like you who has a good job to sport a stubble. See this is a village and I don’t know may be at the place where you live, it might be a good fashion but here it’s out of fashion.’
‘I don’t really care, Ma. I am too old for all this caring business.’
‘I don’t want people asking me on why you sport a beard. Is there anything I need to know. Do you have a love failure?’
‘Oh god, no’
‘Come on, then what? Go and shave.’
‘I will, give me sometime I will. You win as usual.’
This used to be my conversation some years before, when I used to frequently visit my parents. My mom would be standing on top of my head and eventually winning the bout. Growing old these days she does not scream that much when I infrequently visit her, may be lack of the much required energy or she has kind of got used to it in these few years. I hated to shave, which I still do. I don’t know when the love for my stubble started, but I pretty remember my school days when my friend used to tell me that what is life without a beard! I thought the opposite. Clean shave would be perfect. Sadly or gladly not anymore.
Time changed and I got my first job. No one cared if I shaved or not, but still I remember I had a very small stubble and used to shave at least once a week. Also the hair was so weak that I never felt like having it for more than 3-4 days. My job clients were from spain, US, Korea etc but being junior in those days I never attended any meetings. Days passed, months passed and years passed.
New job, new place, new life. I started growing my stubble a bit more ie 2 weeks. Comments used to come from my TL (team lead) that I am waiting for my salary to buy a blade to shave. I would shave the next day, cos my then office had lot of youngsters and they would tear apart like I do to them. Some of the times I wouldn’t shave for 3 weeks straight. I would have meetings but some of the days I would just not go because it was not necessary.
Again another job, new place, new life. By this time I am older, but not wiser. I had to interact with client more often. Brits also added up in the list but by now I stopped pretending going as a good boy to the meeting. If I had a stubble, never mind I would carry it along. Sometimes it was more than a stubble, a fully grown beard. Then my Project manager, Operations manager would remind me in a very beautiful way that it’s grown really big.
I don’t know if it was John Abraham in Dhoom that triggered my love for stubble, or is it my natural laziness that triggered my love for my stubble, or if I even love the stubble. I really don’t have an answer for that. I just stay stubbled or bearded for now. I don’t know if I have lost an opportunity as such because of stubble but I sure know that it’s not classy, but as long as it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter 😛
To me I think standing in front of a mirror for 20 mins happens very infrequently, very very. I don’t know if it’s like my love for car, my stubble and beards are there with me most of the times. I guess it’s just a (lazy) men’s thing.
This post is as an acknowledgment to my dearest friend Ruby. She nominated me for writing on this topic. It was a pleasure young lady to have been nominated. Thank you 🙂
Let the chain continue, I’ll nominate 3 people to write on this, would be interesting to know their take on the big issue. Guys, if you wish to ignore it’s fine.
1. lasuaprincipessa – see I remembered you again 😉
For other details
kick click on Ruby’s name above which is also a link to her blog.
Edit again : I was also tagged back by Teny (Thanks for the tag Teny). Please check out his post here.