Where art thou,Bearded Lord Brahma

I have lived on earth now for precisely 20 years , 6 months and 16 days , and I simply cannot grow a beard.My chin does provide hope from time to time but cheeks are adamant in their non-affinity to any kind of hair.This is for all those brothers of mine in their twenties who are themselves devoid of that feeling of a razor' s touch against their face.It is for those who understand what it feels like to suffer such grave injustice at the hands of the Almighty and can relate to my story.

Maybe you’re a woman or maybe you’re like me – a hairless dude in a world of hairy dudes Maybe you too, have a face as smooth as velvet and  you prefer to call it your "chocolate boy" look in self consolation.Maybe you too had bought a full shaving kit and taken shaving fundae from Dad before leaving for college three years ago ,thinking that you'd need to shave when you get there.Maybe after all this,you finally accepted the truth six months ago and loaned that shaving kit to a friend in your hostel.Maybe your college festival had Nivea as a sponsor and you hoarded a lot of merchandise,only to realize that all you had nicked was shaving gels and aftershaves.Maybe you now have people coming to your room all the time,picking up tube after tube,pack after pack,while you sit there proud of the social service.Maybe you do not have a problem with them taking the stuff,but get pissed when they ungratefully prefix their thank you with a "You won't need it anyway" reeking of derision.Maybe girls don't take you seriously and treat you like the kid among men (You know what I'm talking about).Maybe.

We rank lower on the manly-meter. That’s right, we’re apparently less manly. We, the smooth-cheeked, are not axe-carrying,blue-ox befriending and fighting with fire kind of people. No. We are not the type of guys who answer the phone, “Go,” or answer a knock on our door with “It’s open!” We’re more “Hello?” and “Please come in” people, as we have more time to soften our etiquette with all the time we save not shaving.

I actually don’t want a beard, but I want the option to grow a beard. Because every man, whether he wants a beard or not, loves the idea that if he were in a plane crash and has to live on a deserted island for, like, six years, when the rescue chopper comes, he will emerge from the forest with just a big bushy beard bearing testament to all that struggle,with crab shells and coconut milk all in it. The kind of beard that makes animals no longer fear you. The kind of beard that says, “Yes, I’m wearing a loin cloth, but maybe I can kill a lion.” Not me. I’d scamper out of the bushes all baby-faced and cute.The rescue chopper would leave me there itself because I’d look like a guy who was a tourist on a deserted island for a couple of days,and is just looking for cheap publicity.

Also ,when I get ditched by a girl,I'd want to grow a beard so that I can look depressed and lonely like the guy in 500 days of Summer or The Notebook.I would be the jilted lover,the Devdas and people would cite my example while narrating one of those timeless tragic love stories.But no,All that would never happen with me.I would still be the same Chikna.People would even doubt the veracity of the love I had for the erstwhile bitch just because of the lack of a beard.There would be no visible emotional scars from my torrid breakup and I would look like an ordinary mature chump who can handle his own life.

And yes,I can never become a Professor.Not that I desire such a sad career but I should at least have all  options available.The “intellectually graying professor-beard” with the coffee-stained moustache is a prerequisite for teaching literature, science or math. What will I scratch when you ask a tough question? I can feel people thinking about the alternatives, and then thanking the beard.
Curse you-Androgen
American History X taught me that finishing with a quote adds weight to an article.

"Tradition wears a snowy beard, romance is always young"
John Greenleaf Whittier