My hair belonged to my parents. Having been born in a Sikh family, i had to compulsorily keep long hair. But i always fancied keeping short ones. Once during college days i attempted to cut them short and there was a big ruckus in the family. I had hurt my parents with this act of sacrilege. I had to grow my hair back again. However it was many years of my constant persuasion with my parents, that i was able to convince them to allow me to keep short hair. Please click here to read the whole episode.
For next many years, though, i kept short hair but continued sporting nicely trimmed beard. As i have a bad habit of experimenting with my appearance, so once when i shaved my beard, i was jeered at not only by my wife and kids at home but also by friends at office, particularly the lady friends who did not approve of my clean shaven face. So i silently concluded that my beard is also not my own as it belonged to my family and friends. I grew my beard again. My beard became such inseparable part of me that some colleagues started addressing me as 'daadhee walah sahib'. I hate being stamped with an image. So i got rid of my beard one day. But then again i preserved a small piece of facial hair in the form of moustaches.
It was not until a few days back that i found out that whom did my moustaches belong to. It is none other than my dear wife. I dare not shave off this piece of salt and pepper contraption on my face. Once i did the same, i had to suffer her sarcastic and scornful looks for one whole week, until the poor thing grew back again under my nose.
Let me share a secret here that since now a days my better half is away in a different city to take care of the kids, so i have taken the liberty to get rid of the moustaches but i know that i will have to stop shaving my upper lip one full week before i move to meet her and the kids during Diwali holidays.
( I have put up some photos of different stages of my skull and facial hair later in the next post. Click here to see those)