#CovidDiary — I Miss You, Oh Dear Barber.

I’m balding. Some of you might know me personally or follow my work. If you are one of the above, you know I’m on my way to no hair. That does not mean I do not need a barber. If you do not believe me, before you read this blog; check out my standup video about hair loss here.

Balding does not mean I do not need a barber. Let me explain the vision to you. If you have a receding hairline, the hair on the top and front of your head starts to vanish. The only strands of hair that hold onto your head are on the sides. When they grow out of control, leaving no hair on the top — the baldness is nothing but enhanced. What looked “gracefully bald’ before, now looks like a poorly trimmed Bonsai tree.

The second thing you will know about me is that I have a beard and it’s my only victory in the ‘looks department’. It’s my way of compensation for hair-loss with hair-gain. So that the hair factor remains a constant. Having a long beard is like being a pet parent. Not a pet owner. Like those annoying ‘pet-parents’. You need to protect it, wash it, feed it and take it for walks. The day you stop showing affection, the beard will bite you.

For many years, I’ve depended on the reliable hair-stylist from “Innovative Hair Cutting Saloon, Indiranagar”. The guy there knows my beard better than I do. My pet-groomer, if I may say so. I’ve tried fixing my facial wilderness on my own at home. But the results have been consistently mediocre.

After more than three weeks without stylist-bhiya, my face has started to disappear in the eternal beard. It feels like I’m growing my own mask in the time of COVID-19. The beard is so dense, a pigeon tried to nest inside while I was asleep. The beard is so shabby, my roommate thought I’ve taken up the path of religious deception and turned into a god-man. Last weekend I told my friends I cannot get on a zoom-call because I had to take a “face-bath”, and the hair takes time to wash and dry. Also, I’m done sharing food with my beard!

I decided to use my kitchen scissors and make an attempt to trim the hedges myself. To brush up on my skills, I saw a youtube video. The man on the video confidently cut his beard and then flexed his muscles. “Yo beard man! I got no fancy clippers or wooden comb!” I yelled at my computer screen. He, of course, did not respond. So I left him a strongly worded comment.

Today I’ve reached a point of acceptance. They say in the time of crises, we learn a lot about ourselves. I’ve learned that– in life, keep your friends close, but your electric-beard-trimmer closer. Hope to see you soon ‘Innovative’, this long-distance-relationship is not working out.


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