I was enjoying the smooth surface and ran my hands down few more times appreciating the divine feel taking enough time before allowing the panic attack to set in. It was not smooth the day before, It meant the life has changed once and for all.
I always wanted to learn my guitar and play it in front of a huge audience, with a bandana branded with swastika in the centre around my hairs, falling freely on my shoulders. My rock star dream was totally shattered and the God had different plans, he gave me a one way ticket to BALDland. I was hoping like my couple of other blogs this would be a dream and I would wake up to find that I was still not bald was just balding, but I realised the game was over and I lost it fair and square.
When I was in my cricketing days, my sister used to tell me I would become like Sehwag and Gibbs. I used to wonder why she told that to me since I was a bowler and she knew it very well. Choices evolve and I chose to play tennis when I joined my current organisation and she was very prompt to call me up and tell that I would become like Agassi. Now I get a feeling that she always new what I would become perhaps she never meant me getting better in cricket or tennis and she was always having my receding hairline in her mind. Arrgghhhh...
It is a general practice to do some “course” during the summer vacation. I remember trying out my hand in Hindi one summer and for a series of summers I was busy cricketing and then I got busy with main stream education. After a very long time my Mom again asked me if I were interested to join a course and I was in my graduation second year and was little confused what course she was asking me to take, may be some computer course for my career. I said yes and she passed me the news paper where there was an ad from NIIT, she was confidently saying “this one might help” and was pointing her finger on to the paper. I thought when did my Mom know so much about what is hot and what is not in the software industry. Then I followed her hand to see what she was pointing to, right next to NIIT there was an ad from Dr. Bakras with the legendary before and after pictures of some bald model and not so bald model. “I will fix the appointment”, she said and left the room.
I had one of the most scrutinising interview sessions with one of their senior doctors and after a thorough session she was happy to take me in to the course. Then I was called in by another doctor or more like a photographer who always took some before and during snaps throughout the course which went on for two years, I completed my engineering and the course with Dr Bakras at the same time and thanks to my engineering course I was recruited in one of the top notch IT company but there was not much happening as a result of the other course. After completing four semesters in my hair treatment and spending some big bucks I was once again called in for the photography session and after a couple of sessions the senior doctor met me again after two years, “we are completing the course today, would you like to take up the next course?”, what the hell was she thinking? Was she thinking she was offering me a seat in IIM A? “I am sorry I have not seen any positive results out of this, I do not want to go for the next course”, I said. She was prompt to reply “I can certainly cut a decent deal for the next course, but if you are still not convinced, Please collect your course completion certificate from the reception”. Two years was just a wasted endeavour. On the flipside I did have a good time in college because of this. I was an instant hit alongside another girl. I was the boy who went to Dr. Bakras and she was the girl who did a course with SLC for loosing you know what.
One day my dad came running in to my room with so much energy that I almost thought that India had won a match under the captaincy of Jammy. What he said next would remain in my mind for rest of my life. “I was speaking to a guy in the train from tambaram to kodambakkam, he shared a natural therapy for hair fall control. If a virgin cow that has given birth to a calf licks your head you would start seeing some progress.” my dad said. “What? I can not allow a cow to lick my head, btw how can a cow be virgin if it has already given birth to a calf?” I asked. “That's what would make the magic, it should be a surrogate cow”, he said, just when my servant maid said “Adhellam venam thambi, indha vengayam irukku illa, adha nadumana vetti, nadu mandaila theyi, apparam mudi eppdi valardhu nu paaru”. I had to run from the room to avoid any further suggestions.
Things went even bad in my sister's wedding, couple of guys perhaps in their late teens called me uncle. I couldn't do anything since they were from her in law's side. When I was deeply depressed about those guys calling me uncle I heard someone calling me brother which instantly cheered me only to be doused off immediately when I looked back there was a 60 year old grandpa struggling to find a place to sit and he called me brother. Only way out now is becoming a Sardarji.
It does not really hurt to be bald, what really hurts is when some one calls you “Sottai”.
One word of caution for all you fellas who are looking forward for every single opportunity to call us sottai, “Naan thani aalu illa”, we automatically become part of the United States of Baldland and we have the highest population than any other logical organisation and you people by default become an enemy of the state. We will hunt each and every one of you down and kick your @$$ a la Ross Geller.
Now where the hell did Harsha Bhogle go?
I always wanted to learn my guitar and play it in front of a huge audience, with a bandana branded with swastika in the centre around my hairs, falling freely on my shoulders. My rock star dream was totally shattered and the God had different plans, he gave me a one way ticket to BALDland. I was hoping like my couple of other blogs this would be a dream and I would wake up to find that I was still not bald was just balding, but I realised the game was over and I lost it fair and square.
When I was in my cricketing days, my sister used to tell me I would become like Sehwag and Gibbs. I used to wonder why she told that to me since I was a bowler and she knew it very well. Choices evolve and I chose to play tennis when I joined my current organisation and she was very prompt to call me up and tell that I would become like Agassi. Now I get a feeling that she always new what I would become perhaps she never meant me getting better in cricket or tennis and she was always having my receding hairline in her mind. Arrgghhhh...
It is a general practice to do some “course” during the summer vacation. I remember trying out my hand in Hindi one summer and for a series of summers I was busy cricketing and then I got busy with main stream education. After a very long time my Mom again asked me if I were interested to join a course and I was in my graduation second year and was little confused what course she was asking me to take, may be some computer course for my career. I said yes and she passed me the news paper where there was an ad from NIIT, she was confidently saying “this one might help” and was pointing her finger on to the paper. I thought when did my Mom know so much about what is hot and what is not in the software industry. Then I followed her hand to see what she was pointing to, right next to NIIT there was an ad from Dr. Bakras with the legendary before and after pictures of some bald model and not so bald model. “I will fix the appointment”, she said and left the room.
I had one of the most scrutinising interview sessions with one of their senior doctors and after a thorough session she was happy to take me in to the course. Then I was called in by another doctor or more like a photographer who always took some before and during snaps throughout the course which went on for two years, I completed my engineering and the course with Dr Bakras at the same time and thanks to my engineering course I was recruited in one of the top notch IT company but there was not much happening as a result of the other course. After completing four semesters in my hair treatment and spending some big bucks I was once again called in for the photography session and after a couple of sessions the senior doctor met me again after two years, “we are completing the course today, would you like to take up the next course?”, what the hell was she thinking? Was she thinking she was offering me a seat in IIM A? “I am sorry I have not seen any positive results out of this, I do not want to go for the next course”, I said. She was prompt to reply “I can certainly cut a decent deal for the next course, but if you are still not convinced, Please collect your course completion certificate from the reception”. Two years was just a wasted endeavour. On the flipside I did have a good time in college because of this. I was an instant hit alongside another girl. I was the boy who went to Dr. Bakras and she was the girl who did a course with SLC for loosing you know what.
One day my dad came running in to my room with so much energy that I almost thought that India had won a match under the captaincy of Jammy. What he said next would remain in my mind for rest of my life. “I was speaking to a guy in the train from tambaram to kodambakkam, he shared a natural therapy for hair fall control. If a virgin cow that has given birth to a calf licks your head you would start seeing some progress.” my dad said. “What? I can not allow a cow to lick my head, btw how can a cow be virgin if it has already given birth to a calf?” I asked. “That's what would make the magic, it should be a surrogate cow”, he said, just when my servant maid said “Adhellam venam thambi, indha vengayam irukku illa, adha nadumana vetti, nadu mandaila theyi, apparam mudi eppdi valardhu nu paaru”. I had to run from the room to avoid any further suggestions.
Things went even bad in my sister's wedding, couple of guys perhaps in their late teens called me uncle. I couldn't do anything since they were from her in law's side. When I was deeply depressed about those guys calling me uncle I heard someone calling me brother which instantly cheered me only to be doused off immediately when I looked back there was a 60 year old grandpa struggling to find a place to sit and he called me brother. Only way out now is becoming a Sardarji.
It does not really hurt to be bald, what really hurts is when some one calls you “Sottai”.
One word of caution for all you fellas who are looking forward for every single opportunity to call us sottai, “Naan thani aalu illa”, we automatically become part of the United States of Baldland and we have the highest population than any other logical organisation and you people by default become an enemy of the state. We will hunt each and every one of you down and kick your @$$ a la Ross Geller.
Now where the hell did Harsha Bhogle go?
1 comment:
Very humorous throughout and the conclusion was really good..
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