“She’s your daughter,” my
husband’s acquaintance asked him when I met him for the first time while we
waited for our turn at a shop. I giggled at his joke and marveled at his
judgment of my age. That was when I was dark-haired. A few years later, my hair
started to turn grey.
We often visited a complex together regularly, so
regularly that the guard could identify the two of us. The irony struck when my
husband had to travel alone. Then the guard asked, “Mummy Ji has not come
today.” I laughed at the cruel joke. It is not that I mind going old: I do mind
looking old, so aptly said by someone, I thought.
I had the usual concerns as
someone in the fourth decade. I was beginning to hide that lock of silver hair
so conspicuous on my scalp. It has been a source of pride for all the years
spent well. I found myself reminiscing about the hair. I felt great about the
comparisons I had.
A
decade later, I was going ahead with a natural balayage without a penny spent.
The lockdown was a blessing in disguise when I could mask my hair with a head
cap and miraculously escape those glances, the turning heads, and the smiles. I
wondered if accepting the ash color was as similar to the red, blue, green, or
bleached tones. I presumed they drew the same responses. Most people I knew did
not appreciate my silver transformation, but a select few encouraged me.
I
had a proverbial warning of a changed look from Mother after the night. My
sister felt I would have an elderly look. My nieces excitedly said not to be
bothered by mom and grandma's skepticism you will do great. My husband and sons
said your head, your hair, your choice, you can always make a comeback. A few
months later, I had a striped scalp. I was going cold turkey.
Precisely,
this journey was not a cakewalk. I learned to deal with my feelings and other's
opinions, to ignore and to be patient. I even chronicled my (un)illustrious
journey in my picture gallery. And now, even the girls in the cosmetic section
never ask if I need hair color.
PS My mother told me today to attach my grey-haired
picture that she had appreciated in the family tree.
Grey is new black.
ReplyDeletei shared your views with my better half she admired your Grey's and plans to walk that path some days.
ReplyDeleteVery well expressed, the journey everyone has to go through, sooner or later 👌
ReplyDeleteGrey hair are actually wisdom highlights that only deserve to be flaunted. 👏
ReplyDeleteA very true picture of aging,yes very few have the courage to accept and go on.i believe I admire you that way.
ReplyDeleteMamiji i was also sailing in the same boat of grey hair infact since my 30's. Since then i used to hide with brown or burgundy and recently I wanted some change hence got my hair highlighted and everyone complimented my new look. But at the back of my it was running....what next. I was talking to my friend with similar concerns and decided next will be salt and pepper that will ultimately end up with the natural grey matured and prideful look. Today your journey has given me a step ahead confidence.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations for an apt article that is many of ours journey too, necklaced so beautifully with beads of instances and words.