Let me start by giving you all some background: Growing up, people used to call me ‘Anil Sami’ because I was hairy and fat – I was like the Anil Kapoor version of Adnan Sami. I have had *real* conversations where friends have asked, “Yo what up dude! You look even more awesome than usual. Have you been trying to grow a beard?” and I have responded, “What up man! Not really, I’ve just not shaved this morning.”
Out of all the unmentionable nicknames given to me all my life, the ones that, unfortunately, *actually* had some semblance of truth were ‘Bhaloo’ and later ‘Papa Bear’ (and not ‘Lo*uchand or ‘C**tprakash’). In fact, I have had friends – girls – give me ‘Veet’ for my birthday. Veet is a hair removal cream. So yes, the point is, I’ve been hairy all my life.
And then, I came to MTV.
I don’t know what it says about the awesomeness that is the MTV office (or ahem, about me), but on my first day at MTV, it wasn’t the kickass colourful wallpaper that caught my eye, nor all the hot chicks roaming around in bikinis (maybe because there were none… #FAIL), nor all the Roadies posters with Raghu and Rajiv looking even angrier than usual (Tees Maar Khan had happened), and not even all the badass looking Noise Factory magazines being ogled at by only like, everyone. No. I distinctly remember… the first thing I EVER noticed about MTV was, “Woah. SO. MANY. BALD. DUDES.”
At first, it was a passing joke between me and my friends – how Raghu and Rajiv were, in fact, communicable diseases. Because bloody every third person was bald, and as a consequence, angry and mean. It seemed that we had entered the matrix but instead of fighting to save the world, we were all preparing for Roadies auditions, step one of which was: lose all your hair, and step two was: grimace. (Step three, by the way, was: Teri ma ki @#$!#@!$#%@ #$%!$!@#$!@#%!$#^#^()#$%*)
But then, something strange started happening. Initially, I thought I was being paranoid. That it was all IN my head and not ON it. But then, the signs began to show. If I’d be with my friends in a car on traffic signals, little beggar kids would say to them, “Aye Hrithik Roshan, paise de na! (Oh Hrithik Roshan! Gimme some money!” or “Kya Akshay Kumar lag raha hai! Kuch paise de na! (What Akshay Kumar you are looking like! Gimme some money!” But when my turn would come, they’d say, “Aye UNCLE, paise de na! (Oh Uncle, gimme some money!). No, not Hrithik Roshan, not Akshay Kumar, not even like a Govinda. But UNCLE.
I’m 24 (JUST turned 25 but because this article is set in the entire year, I’ll say 24) but one of my evil bas***d friends has started playing this game over the last few months called, “How old do you think Nikhil is?” And NO ONE GUESSES ANYTHING EVEN CLOSE TO 24. My maid has started charging me more money because she thinks since I’m so old I’d be earning a lot, my mom wants to marry me off “while there’s something left there” and my barber suggests a hundred different solutions “that can produce gardens on barren land”… because I’VE STARTED TO LOSE HAIR too!!!!!!!!!
The curse of the bald twins struck me swiftly and unexpectedly, but from what the mirror suggests, it’s here to stay. Things have become so bad that sometimes, when I’m in an office meeting with some of MTV’s senior bald employees, while they are talking, all I can think of is, “He’s bald, he’s also bald, even he’s bald, and he’s also bald. THIS is my future too *insert tears*” And then I start imagining what bald-hairstyle would suit me… should I just shave off everything on my head or should I crop my hair to porcupine-type length so it seems like I’ve done it on purpose? Or how about, I just DIE !@#$!%$?
Now everywhere I go, I can see bald people. Who don’t seem to care that they are bald. Except for Dr Batra who’s screaming from every newspaper, magazine and hoarding I can see around me to “act, before it’s too late!!” I find myself staring at my old pictures where I was young and rash and didn’t tell my hair enough what it means to me. I’ve also found myself paying close attention to shampoo ads on TV. I even remember shampoo slogans and punchlines and can now identify which shampoo can help my hair to be “jadon se mazboot.”
But all of this is in vain, because apparently, research shows that after the age of 22, an average male loses 100 hairs per day. Only, in my case, the male has… umm… already lost. So I’ve now decided to stop whining over it all, and turn into Raghu for all practical purposes. I’ve started abusing random people in my office asking them, “Tune kiya kya hai life mein bho1#@$%!$% ke.” I’ve also started picking fights with anyone and everyone screaming, “Roadie banega!!#$ Hai g**nd mein dum?!@#$.” And now instead of ‘Hi’, I greet everyone with a grunt.
I’ve also started growing a French beard… err… I’ve already grown a French beard even though I started yesterday. And that’s the bloody curse of the bald twins – hair all over the body but not where it matters the most.
Note: This column first appeared in MTV Noise Factory in September, 2011
Picture courtesy: Google. None of the pictures are owned by the author all rights belong to the original owner(s) and photographer(s).
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