It was a brief look at the mirror.. the fleeting glances at yourself that u so want to avoid.. those which u never wish u had to do as a 20 year old.. but u do come across situations when u have to "reflect" on urself.. this occasion, it was part of my routine before the dash to the lecture complex..
and there it was.. glaring and so obvious that u cudn miss it.. my month old beard was showin up pretty badly.. for 30 happy days I had put off the ritual of placing a razor on my cheeks and following it up with ten minutes of madness as it flew across the face at angles they never mentioned in geometry class and at speeds which will give light a complex.. the whole job had to be done quick, real quick.. the longer it drags the more painful it is..
they warn u at home... the first time u r so raring to go and take out every minuscule bit of hair u find on ur face they told u.. that all this will seem very exciting the first time but as time progresses u will grow to hate every moment of this practice.. ah.. how true were these words..
back then in ur age of innocence u never had to worry about such things.. life was so peaceful.. no worries about beards which irritated every ounce of flesh on your face.. but then there do come the times when u r very proud of it.. when u shape it ur delight.. the long side burns.. the goatee.. the french beard (though for me it was a disaster first time around and from then on its been a strict no no ) .. the best part always came a couple of days after you had wrenched out the beard.. the little sproutin called the stubble made u feel so good.. it gave you fresh hope.. that even beards can make you feel good...
but then the tragedy with beards occurs when you let them grow on you for too long.. initially u feel so good about it that the very thought of shaving makes u shudder.. and then follows a period of time when u let it grow, for u deem no harm can arise out of it.. this turns out to be the mistake.. for once u let it go past this period, it gets to ur nerves.. through the skin of ur face..
irritation sets in.. u think u r so much better off without it.. but by then it has become so much a part of you that u do not have the heart to remove it.. this is the time when the mistake magnifies into a blunder..
after all, not for nothin did our ancestors always maintain anything evil (in this case read: not good) should be weeded out.. not allowed to go past that stage.. once again pearls of wisdom ignored..
and as it happened to me today, there arises a new found vigor to shave.. to throw caution to the wind and go for the kill.. new found energy means a rush of blood in your hands.. and this translates into a rush of blood again, but only this time from a cut on the face.. a mark which no man likes to leave, for it shows complete lack of ability in what shud be deemed as each man's core competency.. most of the times the impression that the cut makes vanishes pretty quickly and this is usually followed by a big sigh of relief.. u'll be lucky if people do not notice either the cut mark or the sigh which follows a tad later..
but sometimes it leaves a scar.. each time u look at it, u repent the times when u could so easily have shaved it off but chose not to.. when the scar starts to hurt, u wish u never let the beard grow in the first place..
After today, I have 2 of those....
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