It is interesting to observe the various emotional
dilly-dalliances after the first grey is spotted. Thanks to the increased rate
of pollution, exposure to the harsh rays of the sun coupled with a lot of
tampering of food products, the greys appear at mid-twenties and early thirties
much to our chagrin while the generation of our parents and grandparents dodged
them quite efficiently until their early fifties or so. I spotted mine couple
of years ago, say two or three years ago one sunny morning when my sister was
playing with my lose tresses when she exclaimed, “Oh! Vella mudi! (Oh! Grey
hair!) Me being the philosophical and academic tried not to make much ado about
the grey spoke in muted tones, “Maybe the sun is shining a little too
brightly!” but my sister being the sharp-witted one she is, did not give up.
Right there, she plucked out the strand and gave it in my hand. I had to
believe it then.
It is interesting to observe the responses or rather
reactions to the first grey – The thought of growing old first comes to the
mind, followed by the aesthetic aspect – denial of growing older and then the pseudo-dismissal that age is after all a number. No matter how much one philosophies
about age being just a number, the
fact that that number is steadily increasing never leaves the mind.
No matter what King Solomon wrote in the Proverbs
about grey hair being a crown of splendour, the fact remains that one can never
completely come to terms with the first few greys. King Solomon made the grave
mistake of not adding a number when he mentioned “grey.” He was a wise man
after all and he would have foreseen that the average life-span would decrease
by and by and hence they greys would appear at any given time. But while
reading the Proverbs, grey always meant anything grand (read grandfather,
grandmother, granduncle and so on) but when the same grey is spotted on my
crown, it is anything but grand.
Speaking of grand and grey, I realize that in no
matter of time the appearance of greys will become quite a familiar phenomenon.
The greys appear; I pluck them out and smile smugly at the thought of having
defeated age. I know that the victory will be short-lived but I am like King
Bruce who tried and tried to defeat the defeat before the defeat defeats you!
Recollecting that I am the same person who
vociferously stated in her passionate feminist College days that “I don’t know
why people colour their hair. After all grey hair signifies wisdom” makes me
cringe with a sense of having judged people at the prime of my dark hair days.
Even now you cannot spot the greys until you hunt for them but I write this
post as a remainder for the coming days of wisdom and age and of course plenty
of greys.
So, wise readers of this blog, tell me what you
think of these shades of grey ;)
Image 1: shutterstock.com
Image 2: Internet
