Once upon a time I had a lot of anxiety about hair falling.
Nothing new, you would think because it is one phase that most of the human
beings have to pass through. When you are a teenager your whole idea about
yourself is your body. You keep looking at your body as if it was a great work
of art and you a great sculptor. In fact, you are a great work of art destined
to do sublime things. Unfortunately you wouldn’t think so and none would tell
you that you have bigger goals to reach and you are nothing but a tool in the
hands of a great artist. The folly of looking at the way in which hair
follicles behave comes from the belief that you are the author of your own
self. You are a collaborator of your own self because the greater hands are
elsewhere, invisible but so close directing you at each pulsating moment but
you need different eyes and different sensory organs to feel that. The whole
idea of perfecting yourself is to make yourself an antenna capable of catching
the god frequency. But teenagers hardly develop this antenna and they remain in
front of the mirrors counting hair, pimples, blackheads and so on.
This great fear of turning oneself into a bald person keeps
haunting most of the males and females. Some people tell you at a very early
age itself that baldness is something hereditary. Then you not only look at
your own hair but also the hair of your parents and all those blood
relations. Then someone else tells you that it is not necessary to turn bald
even if your father is bald. Before you heave a sigh of relief there comes a
rider that if any of your forefathers had it then there are chances even if
your father has a full mop. It is like height, you see. Such people are more
scientific or they think so but knowing that they are scientific does not help
you at all because you are about to lose your hairs. And your dreams are full
of demons pulling your hairs out one by one. You read Kafka at an early age
because you are naturally tuned to literature and you see one fine morning you
get and find that you have turned into a bald person. That is the mortal fear
that could afflict you at the age of sixteen or seventeen; it is not the
right time to turn existential though. One of my cousins had this jealous
streak in him and used to tell me how I would turn a bald person by the time I
turned twenty. I am still alive to write this only because that better sense
prevailed and I did desist from committing suicide.
Bald is in fact beautiful but most do not know. Our
aesthetical outlook comes from the popular imageries and narratives, especially
novels, films and today all sorts of digital communications. There was a time
when bald people were seen as beautiful people. That was the time when
experience and intelligence were given value over money and muscle. The early
Greek history and mythologies show that the intelligent ones were bald and old.
The wise ones were definitely bald. Only the warrior class that spoke from the
muscles had a lot of hairs. Why intelligent people were bald? They used the
brains and using brains gave out heat waves and heat caused hair falling. Such
a beautiful explanation! Later on I learnt that when people think a lot or
undergo stress they lose their hair. Then again, we have this new theory; life
style product and the chemicals in water and food could cause hair falling.
Anyway, the bald people fell from grace sooner than later in our popular
narratives as they were demoted from being philosophers to underworld dons. A
good baldie makes a good villain; Mogambo Khush Hua. Take the best villains
ever in the Hindi screen all of them have played baldies; Jeevan, Pran, Prem
Chopra, Amaresh Puri, Khulbushan Kharbanda, Anupam Kher and so on. But a hero
could give himself a comic streak if he adds a clumsy wig which shows him
partially bald.
That means baldness became a signifier of villainy and if it
is partial then of foolishness. Look at Mr.Pickwick of Dickens; he is half
bald and is a mixture of wisdom and foolhardy. From Butler Jeeves to the
scheming secretaries is bald. Why baldness came to have connoted all the wrong
things in the world? Once upon a time, in India baldness was considered to be a
sign of beauty, especially for me. For women it is always hair that added to
their allure; a woman with open hair stood for her sexual prowess. That’s why
when one is widowed her hairs are shorn off as she was to be projected as a
sexually neutral person (how such women were socially used and abused were a
different matter). The life expectancy was less in those good old days and the
source of income was less. People turned old by the time they turned twenty
five or thirty. By the time they were forty they were pretty much old as most
of them died by the age of fifty. Sixty was very advanced age as today sixty is
the new forty of the yesteryears. In those days baldness was okay. With the
increase in the longevity of life people changed their idea of beauty. While
the beauty concept of women remained more or less same (white, slim, well
endowed, long haired, coy and so on), the beauty concept of men
changed drastically. Baldness became a thing of past and relegated to villainy.
We do not see bald heroes in our movies. But definitely we do see bald villains.
Baldness made a comeback during the boom years in India; in
fact all over the world. Bald people in suites and flowery shirts became a
rage. Bald people with stubble were dubbed to be hot. Perhaps, it was a
carrying over from the Italian underworld kings in the USA and also the
American as well as European blacks surging with identity politics. Most of
Break Dancers, Rappers and Hip-Hoppers of 1990s were bald heroes. From Tupak
Shakur to Biggie to 50 Cent were baldies or the people who had adopted the bald
style. Samuel Jackson, Wesley Snipes, Denzel Washington, Will Smith, Jamie Fox,
Forrest Whitekar, Spike Lee and all the cool Black guys went bald. When the
market boom came the successful ones wanted to give a shade of Mafioso and
darkness. In India the successful ones were already ageing and it was necessary
for them to shave off their bald pate to give that bald edge, starting from
Pritish Nady to Prabhakar Kolte and their protégé Bose Krishnamachari. They all
shaved off because they thought it was best to have a bald pate than the good
old Pickwickian silly baldness. They had still a great option before them.
They could have gone for weaving their hair or outright hair transplantation
as most of the film heroes have done over the last ten or fifteen years in the
whole of Indian film industry. For the poor ones who still attached a lot of
value to hair and still thought baldness was ugly stylish wigs were available.
Even today in newspapers a portion of advertisement space is taken away by the
wig selling and hair growing advertisements. Such is the discourse of hair and
baldness in India today.
I sport a semi bald look for some time now. I had a
different story behind this haircut. I have been contemplating to do away with
my hair for it stood for certain style or identity. I wanted to do away with
any kind of identity the way the monks did/do all over the world. Hair is also
a part of your ego (for many the baldness is a part of their ego and identity
as we have seen it in the Indian art scene). So doing away with hair is like
doing away with your ego. You don’t attach that value to your hair the way the
teenagers do. But I was hesitant; after a long time I had actually settled for
a particular hair style; neither long nor short. One day my sister, upon
looking at my comparatively long hair asked me to go for a ‘decent’ hair cut
so that she could walk with me and ‘claim’ me as her brother. Her contention
was that I should be cutting hair like any other people around. I thought,
well, her aesthetic sense was about creative normative identities. When you
have a normal hair cut you don’t stick out; you become just ordinary like any
other person in the street. And ordinariness is a good thing to aspire for.
When you are ordinary the society does not look at you nor is it anyway
interested in you other than your consumerist side and vote. In the meanwhile
you can carry on with your ordinary lives, stoking fuel to your small egos and
selfishness. That was the concept of decency for many. So long as you do not
look different, everything is fine. So I went to the barbershop and asked him
to shave my hair off. As he too is a ‘decent’ man he was reluctant to do it (in
villages the barber knows you and your family background). I came back and
asked my sister whether I was looking decent enough to be called a brother.
Then her answer surprised me: You were better earlier.
In a world were decency is measured with hair or lack of
hair and its length and the style of it, it is good to go for a monk cut which
makes you simply an identity-less person. You think in this very understated
haircut you could just escape the attention of other people. When I am at the
airport the security man asks me I look familiar because he has seen some swamy
like me a few days back. At the pre-paid taxi counter the policeman asks me
which ashram I belonged to. People treat you with some sort of discretion. You
could be obscure only in the places where you see a lot of youngsters who have
either shaven off their hairs or have grown it in different fashions. Among
them I look absolutely out of place, insignificant and ignorable like an old
piece of furniture. Lesson; having no hair is still a fashion, but having hair
like mine could bring some attention. Decent hair cut you could just be passed
off as ordinary. If you have very long hair, you could turn eyes and necks
towards you. But what would happen if your hairs are very long and you have
black skin and sort of clothes that absolutely challenge your moral and
aesthetical values? Then police action may follow. I would talk about it
tomorrow.
(Images taken from the Internet for representational purposes only)
(Images taken from the Internet for representational purposes only)
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