I recently happened to look at the floor in my cubicle. My normal head position is of course looking straight (at the monitor) or more often looking upwards (not looking exactly, because my eyes are likely to be shut and mouth open), but this once, something made me look below, and at once I knew that I’d never done it before, because what I saw frightened me so much, I nearly screamed.
The imaginative mind may picture a pool of blood, a puppy (ok,I’m afraid of dogs, and puppies ARE dogs) or something similarly scary. But I saw something so frightening, it seemed to transcend time. A sight that showed me a bleak and scary future. That told me that my time as a ‘youngster’ was officially over. On the floor lay so much hair, as I’d never seen outside a saloon.
A cursory examination that evening immediately revealed that the hair was falling too fast to be replaced. This was the first time I noticed that I’d apparently been on autumn shedding mode for a very long time. And spring didnt look like it was coming in this lifetime.
Needless to say this has all been very depressing. Although I always knew that I’ld turn into a bald middle aged man sometime (all men do, right?), I thought it wouldnt happen till years later. After years of engineering, just when I was finally looking to get a life, fate has already ordered me to draw my bucket list. That long postponed vaccation to Europe is topmost on the list now. If I’m going to the place, I cant return looking like a skinhead in the photos. Also, need to do lots of other stuff, and have enough photos taken to put up on Facebook and Orkut for the next few years ( by which time hopefully people’ll be over them. The sites that is, not the photos).
If you think I’m making a fuss over nothing, you have no idea how it feels. To wake up and look at your pillow. A white pillow cover should never have a salt and pepper look. To be worried that a hearty laugh might knock off a couple of more hairs. Heck, I see hair on the wash basin every morning after brushing my teeth. Its like the force of gravity is too much for my hair to handle.
You may have of course noticed that my analysis of almost anything, tends to include the ‘girls’ angle, something conspicuous by its absence here. This is because for once, I have bright views on the subject. This post might have a dark mood, but I will end it on something of a cheery note. Know how I keep fretting about my poor run of luck with the fairer sex? Well for once I am grateful. With the few hairs that I have left clinging on for dear life, the last thing I need is someone running their hands through my hair. And with that, I’ll leave you to shed a tear for my optimism in this trying time.