Afraid of ageing

Life is full of surprises…

The reason why I’m starting off with this tired cliché is that a very dear friend of mine has gone and dyed his hair all black. So what, you said? Well, he is a couple of years shy of 60 and hold your breath, bald except for a fringe of hair ringing the bald patch.

I know he’ll read this post and will be livid but I don’t care. I’m equally angry with him. I know I have no right to be. After all, it’s his hair, his decision, his bald head. But somehow I’m feeling so let down.

While we’ve all fallen victims to the Dorian Gray syndrome here was a guy who had been carrying on getting old as if it was the most natural thing on earth! Sometimes if we made fun of his grey hair he’d take it on his stride. “So what? Pak gaye to pak gaye…” You know, you age and your hair turns gray.

Secretly we admired that, at least I did. Even though I dye my hair and wage a daily (preventive) battle with wrinkle and tummy fat I had always found my friend’s attitude liberating. Ah, to be able to sport the ravages of time on your chin and say I-don’t-care!

And he is a smart dude, well-read, suave and articulate. The grey hair, instead of taking anything away from him did wonders to his personality.

And then there he goes, dying his hair black. Now he looks, well, your average bloke who sports jet black hair at 60. A narcissist like everyone else…

My rant may be unfair, after all we all do what we do for a reason and we have a right to do so. I just hope to get used to seeing my friend in this new avatar.

But are we becoming extra age-conscious, even at 60?