Follicular Wars

I thought I had problems with hair.

Waxing, epilation, electrolysis, shaving, threading… all seem to be part of my everyday vocabulary. Actually, it is more a problem of keeping the hair where it should be and removing it in all other places (since Indians find a headful of thick black hair sexy and which, also possibly, has some correlation between marriage prospects and future fertility). Call it the bane of being an Indian with a genetic proclivity for fuzz. In my family, we (the 4 females in our house) sort of refer to it as the werewolf syndrome, (just as we refer to the monthly ‘thing’ as the… thing) where we feel pretty the first half of the month before the hair starts creeping out on us again.

But we have learnt to deal with it… you know… by wearing skirts for the better half of the month and gradually, increasing the length of our bottoms as the time goes by. We  also have our own theories and discussion groups on what is the best method for hair removal and what we have read/discovered/conjured up in our head the best ways to have long glorious tresses. (My dad, who’s hairy genes we have also inherited, quickly exits at this juncture) My mother has stuck every strange concoction of ‘natural’ substance on our heads. This includes tea grounds, henna, honey, egg white, curds, etc. all in the good intentions of making us have great-looking hair. (No, she was not cooking our next meal on our heads). Have they worked? Some have and others well, let’s say, faith and hope are great things to have when we have no answers. Plus, I hate pissing my mum off.

So where is this going? Imagine my reaction when I find out that there are horrifying events like the World Beard & Moustache Championships. UGH! Well, it is for the men anyway but still, UGH! These people grow their facial hair for competitions! My first thought was ‘How to go out like that? Wah… the waxing lady would have SUCH a problem!!’ Anyway, check it out if you want to… disturbingly hilarious.

Indian beaten to first place by a hairier Brit at WB&M’07

Ok a bit more hair, but on men. Yes, the rugged look is nice, with itty bittles of stubble in the right places. I also prefer my men hairier cos, I don’t want to be the Beast AND the beauty in the couple. But I guess my love for hair on a man also comes on a likeability spectrum. If you’re hairy and can’t do much about it cos your mum and dad were direct descendants of gorillas and the wooly mammoths, then please keep your mane problems tamed.

(This post has come to an abrupt end because I had to go call my waxing lady pronto)

Gee Whiz.

We had people over for dinner today. My dad’s friend from the In*dian High Co*mm had come over with his wife and daughter. We used to meet more frequently when I was in JC and before they left for South Africa. They were back in Singapore again for a short holiday and had swung by my place for old times sake.

First thing the man did when he entered the house, looked at my youngest sis and mistook her for me and told her that I had not changed a single bit. That was until he saw me. He was like ‘OMG’.

Thanks la. It happened again when we had moved to the living room for coffee and dessert (which I am proud to say I didn’t touch. sigh… it was chocolate cake and gulab jamun) and there was an ad for the sony vaio laptop and I was like that is not a very good laptop computer if you are looking for one, he turns over and looks at me. ‘Rajendran, the last time we saw your daughter she was this big (gesturing the size of a peanut butter jar).. and now, wa wa.. she has opinions!’

WTF DUDE!

This guy is also into astrology. In between representing the Indian Consul, he went to study astrology in Delhi. He takes out the laptop he brought along and opens up a program in it. Then he asks my mum for my DOB and the time and place where I was born. He presses enter and voila! my horoscope has been derived. (You see this the perfect example of ancient and modern India coexisting! Ancient astrological science made easy by computer programs. You conniving Indians!)

From reading the charts, which have symbols and letters decorating a grided square, he tells me about my future, especially my profession and my married life. By golly! Am I not happy to know!?

So, here is the verdict, written in the stars. I am destined to get married in 2008-09. I will dominate my husband. I should be very careful about my partner and not trust him too much. (hmmm.) Professionwise, I cannot be my own boss. I am easily swayed so I cannot be a strong leader. I cannot do PR jobs. However, finding a job is easy for me. I apparently love my dad more than my mum. I will also not have any chronic illnesses.

Firstly, I don’t believe in this. These are self-fulfilling prophecies. But when he kept saying so much, I was tempted to ask some other things as well… only on profession though… he was curious why I never asked him about my love life. EH! YEE. Why do I wanna find out about it from him?

Oh well, I didn’t ask him in the end. Why restrict myself?

I still can’t believe he said ‘Now she has opinions!’ %^%&%&%

Introducing Roshni – 22 Years Is a LONG Time!

I am in a particularly bloggy mood this cool, breezy Monday morning and the largest most complicated topic I could think of immediately to talk about was.. ME. Man, War on Terror and Global Warming just lost out…
I am not trying to sound complex here but sometimes, what I say and do are just reflections of the multiple identities I have to appease. So this goes out especially to my native Singaporean friends or to those who are generally kay-poh (curious in Singapore slang). Understanding me.

Disclaimer: Its fucking long. Apologising in advance for the number of braincells that will contemplate harakiri at my pointless writing.