When I wrote about “dealing with death” sometime back, I received a number of calls from a few of my friends as to how and why I even thought about dying. This piece, is dedicated to all of them who called, concerned.
Actually, around the same time that I wrote the blog, I was really very concerned with the actual process of ‘dyeing.’ Whether dyeing was a natural culmination of one’s accumulated graying process, or whether one has to accept the artificiality of it all, or whether dyeing could alter one’s life, etc, were all questions that were on my mind. Almost every day, I was being persuaded by a close friend, that dyeing, was good. It was only a question of colour, and brand.
I had just got transferred back to Chennai after nearly ten years, and I was worried – People should at least recognize me, and not pass me off as someone familiar, but that guy had black hair? Now, I can’t carry a placard to announce that I HAVE aged in these 10 years, and that shades of white and grey should not stand in the way of being recognized.
So there I was, faced with this vital question that would define my life, my beliefs, my values, my looks, and finally, my hair, and that was : Whether to dye my hair, or not!
I was asking myself the question, “To dye or not to dye?” , standing in front of the mirror, almost every day, since I have not just shades of grey, but sparkling white hair as well, on my head, which I try to conceal by applying coconut oil, so that the white shine can be easily confused with the black shine!
I have seen one of my friends take painstaking care to see that his moushtache was all black. He used to stand in front of the mirror for hours, douching the white hair on his moush with black dye. I have seen my neighbor who just doesn’t bother about his white hair – In fact, he says, that people give him respect for his age – despite the fact that he is only in his 40s.
But my inhibitions and fears about dyeing my hair black were washed away in the deluge of “dyed” heads that I saw when I came to Chennai on transfer. It was then, I realized, that Chennai has changed, and how! And here I was, debating a small issue of dyeing one’s hair black! Here, people of all ages, whether young or old, dye their hair very religiously. The youngsters seem to be “dye-hard” fans of white colour! (Maybe it is their deep desire to get some respect from society?) – Even very young boys of today dye their hair in different colours, sending shock waves through the likes of me.
But despite all this, I must admit that I am a bit old fashioned when it comes to the colour of hair. A young executive with pink shockers of sideburns puts me off or for that matter, an outlandish young lady with green stripes on her hair. But this is the fashion today, whether we like it or not.
Anyway, I decided that I will not enter the holy black portals of hair dyeing, and decided to keep my hair, its natural colour – whether black, gray or white.
So, next time you see me browsing through the local store, rest assured that my hair colour is original – given by God!