That morning as I casually gazed into the bathroom mirror through my heavy lids, a shining strand of grey struck my eyes. Like a stroke of lightning in a dark sky, it nearly blinded me. More from grief than its brightness. The thunder that followed, landed with a thud on my heart. I was aging, it suddenly dawned on me.
I had never counted days. Time had flown, and years had rolled over the cliff of life. Life, but a string of events, some exciting, some mundane and most of them just the everyday survival stints, had drained out my youth. And here I was, staring at myself, with wrinkling skin and greying hair!
Ahhh…. I let out a shriek in the daily soap style. Repeating it three times over, in slow motion. My distraught family rushed to the bathroom, surprised at finding a lazy me, so actively vocal, first thing in the morning.
Before they could ask, I blurted out... “I have a grey hair!” my eyes brimming with self-pity.
It was breaking news for me. I wanted to announce my plight to the whole world. How could it happen to me? I had been wronged. This was outright unfair.
I, me, myself, the fairy queen of my fantasies, how could I ever age? Deep somewhere I had unconsciously woven a white lie about life. I probably believed I was all-important and immortal and that life on this planet was eternal. But the white hair had eclipsed my beliefs.
Suddenly my perspective had shifted from that of Snow White to her villainous step mother. I seemed to be desperately asking my bathroom mirror: “Mirror mirror on the wall, whose hair is the darkest of all?” And each time it only reflected my grey ever more clearly.
My family made futile attempts to comfort me, only ending up distressing me even further.
“I have been through this phase nearly a decade ago, you will get over it,” proclaimed my wiser husband, appearing sadistically happy at having got a new member into the grey hair club.
“Don’t you worry. People will now think you are an experienced doctor,” my mom came up with her B positive attitude.
“Mom, does that mean you have become an ajji now?” my little girl sprinkled some pepper on my already salted hair sentiments. “Ajji , ajji , ajji ….” echoed all day in my ears.
And I realised it was high time I did a reality check myself. I looked within (figuratively) to check out my age. I appeared to be pretty much the same person that I knew I was, decades ago.
My spirit was as young as ever and my eagerness to wake up to a new day was not an ounce lower. My mouth watered at my mother’s cooking even today and her lap was still the best cushion ever. Classics were my favourite books till this day and Shah Rukh still made my heart stammer.
What then had actually aged, I pondered. That was when I remembered the blemished cheeks and the double chin. Lifeless lips and root-canalised teeth within. Eyes with dark circles and glasses two. And to add to it, the thinning ponytail, which was now becoming grey too.
I realised it was my body which was incessantly ageing while the soul within was untouched by time.
“Who then is the real me? Who am I?” the eternal question that had led many a prince in the past to become a Buddha, bit me too. I wandered far and wide on YouTube looking for some spiritual answers. While it only gave me glimpses of gurus who are now in jail, Google bombarded me with fake websites promising instant enlightenment. Failing in all attempts to find a true answer on the Internet, I decided to brood over it myself.
After meditating on the universal question overnight, when I woke up the next morning, “who am I?” no longer mattered. I remembered I had a real problem to solve. My greying hair!
I rushed to the bathroom and slowly closed the door behind me. Looking into the mirror nervously, I began scanning for any new grey strands. Suddenly, the moment I saw many more new greys peeping out, something jolted me and a bulb lit up within. Self-realisation occurred at that instant. I knew the answer to all my questions. It was a defining moment. Something magical.
With a subtle yet satisfied smile on my lips, I opened the door and walked straight to the mobile phone. Dialling a salon that had announced a 30% discount on hair services, I booked an appointment. Kali or peeli mehndi would handle my greying. And as for me, I knew I was forever young within!
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