The Wannabe Cowboy

“Hey what is with your beard?” was my bitter better half’s reaction, my nonagenarian Dad admonished, “Just because you have retired doesn’t mean you can move around in such a slovenly manner, go shave.” I have yet to recover from these barbs, here I was trying to ace my Clint Eastwood look, a childhood icon. I mean honestly who in our generation doesn’t recall “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” and its unforgettable signature tune. As it is, the cowboy movies were always such a rage with us, the Gunfight at OK Corral variety and Country music like that of Kenny Rogers and Don Williams. What attracted me were the “Stetson hats” and these hats didn’t just fit in with the clean shaven chins, a rugged unshaven look was a prerequisite to carry this persona. Alas, in uniform, it remained a dream unfulfilled, where each morning the razor dutifully struck the night stubble with vengeance removing any and every trace, down to the roots of that tiny little sprout which dared to make an appearance. Some credit must go to the perseverance of these follicles too, for years they have been literally nipped in the bud, but they don’t give up or give in, just keep at it. I wonder if it is hope which keeps them alive or they have simply resigned themselves to their fate like the poor chick which knows its eggs are destined to reach the breakfast table in the form of omelets only.

So here I was, a veteran of 38 years in uniform with an additional four years in training academies, where too, we had to perforce subject our chins to this unmitigated torture daily, without a break. As a kind hearted soul that I am, I took pity on my chin and also on these strands which stand out like the much abused “parali” (left over stubble after harvesting in a field), waiting to be executed yet again. But this world does not believe in such harmless acts, where we are essentially providing some much needed relief to our own face, letting it be as it was ordained to be, by the Almighty himself. I am sure “beard” itself would have demanded a special status as none objected to the hair on the upper lip, which could be twirled proudly as moustaches. Just imagine, merely a pair of lips away, such discrimination, high time the Supreme Court took suo moto notice and issued directives and prevent this unceremonious butchering. No wonder, the beard has got its vengeance, with the young generation of kids going with the bearded look, taking a cue from their Cricket stars like Kohli, Rahul, Rohit et al, for a change, the youth have forsaken the clean shaven Shahrukh, Amir, Saif, Akshay, Sunny look totally.

So here I was in an act of rebellion, trying to stand shoulder to shoulder or should I say beard to beard in an act of solidarity with our ‘Gen Zee’. Yes there were more grey than black in the salt and pepper growth of mine but, finally I had broken the shackles of razors, blades, shaving gels and after shave lotions. I was loving my look, donned the stetson a dozen times, stood in front of the mirror admiring what the mirror on the wall reflected. It took almost ten days or may be twelve, to get into this avatar of mine, but there was one major problem, the damn thing was always itching, I applied oils, creams but they only provided temporary relief. Now looks are deadly but then this came at this unwanted cost where one was always trying to provide some relief from the discomfort. Looking for a way out of this self inflicted torture, I decided to give in and revert to the same old myself but naturally I did it as a favour to my better half, that I had heeded to her call much against my wishes and had sacrificed my Cowboy dreams. Sorry Cowboy.. time for you to stay in vivid imaginations only as of now……except that I have put this photo on the book cover, where it shall stay forever.