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I have been sporting a beard for well over a month now and it has been one of the most stressful periods of my life! Well, may be not the most stressful but it sure has been rather awkward and difficult. In the last few weeks, my beard has aroused a whole range of emotions from a whole range of people, all of them beginning with a “dis”: such as disarray, disconcert, disapproval, displeasure, disagreement, dislike, dismay, disappointment, disbelief and finally distance. Yes, some of them have distanced themselves from me, my parents included. Except, of course, for my dear wife and brother. My brother sports a beard too but when questioned about its presence he blames it on some non-existent skin condition that does not permit him to shave. I find it ironic because the perception generally associated with beards is that of masculinity and wisdom. Instead of defending his beard, he makes a ridiculous excuse.

Now getting back to my beard, I have come close to shaving my beard, but I stop myself just so I can go to another gathering and see if I can arouse anymore new reactions. My father, of course, after the beard had grown to a good thicket, in all goodness suggested I stop looking like a hermit. My mother said I must look “decent”. My only answer was “what's the big deal, it's my face and my facial hair and more over Jesus Christ had a beard and so did Leonardo da Vinci. One was the son of God and the other was a genius.” There was no reply.

Why is having a beard such a big deal? In fact, having and nursing one's facial hair has been part of the Indian culture for centuries. When the British came to India and started to sport moustaches like the locals, the Empire condemned this behaviour as "going native" and the British were discouraged from adopting such ways.

But soon the moustache became as common among the British as the curry they fancied. The truth is that the British soldiers sported the moustache not because they liked it; they sported it because it was imperative. A moustache was seen as a potent symbol of virility by the Indians, and British soldiers could not afford to appear less masculine and aggressive than their Indian comrades in the army. After all, they had to assert the supremacy of the imperial race. It's ironic that they sported moustaches like us to show that they too were aggressive and masculine while systematically and cunningly destroying our freedom, hope and pride. So much for our moustaches, eh? Anyways, the point I was trying to make is that facial hair has always been part of our culture.

In fact, it is a part of most cultures in the world. Except, of course, I guess the Mongols. The issue of hair or rather the lack of it among this race makes me question evolution. It is known and agreed upon that in cold places mammals grow thick fur or hair to keep them warm. That's how nature works. But then how in the world did the Mongols, who lived at the foothills of the Himalayas, where it is freezing most of the year, have hardly any hair? If anyone needed hair it was them. God can be so merciless and evolution can be so confusing.

Now, back to my beard. The third day into not shaving, my beard was in its puberty stage, the stubble. My young cousins made a few comments. Some asked me if I was copying Abhishek Bachchan, some discussed as to whether it was actually a stubble or a 5'O clock shadow! Then, after I was well into the third week, the questions began and the comments poured in. The scary part is when it gets physical. Older 'gentlemen' who have known my family for years take the liberty to 'not so gently' grab my jaws, as if trying to rub the beard off my face, while saying in disgust “yenoo idu! What is this I say?” Then there usually is that uncle who intending to sound considerate, smart and sophisticated grabs your hand to shake it while turning his head to give you that look and say “hello young man, why are you trying to look like an old man”. But these comments are not hurtful. They are just loving expressions. At best these are just “intrusive”, an intrinsic part of our society, generally meant to express love, affection and concern, or so they say.

But what gets irritating is the repeated pestering for an answer to the question: why I have a beard? Even after I have answered it with “I just felt like it.” Completely dissatisfied with the answer, they then proceed to assault my wife, father and mother with the question to which their only reaction is to turn towards me with the look that says, “See what you have brought upon us? Embarrassment and disapproval.” I have now gone past the eyebrow rise, the little glimpse and nudge and the swaying of the head indicating that I am a lost cause. Now that my facial follicles are at their prime, the inevitable question is being asked: “So Vikram, why the beard, any good news?” I say “what good news?” Just to keep it coming. Then they proceed treating me like a slow learner, “I mean are you having any issues?” I say “what issues?! I have no issue. Life has been good so far.” Then in all sincerity they say “aree baba are you having a child is what I'm asking”.

I like my beard. It has been a source of entertainment for me. Even at functions that are generally boring my beard has aroused enough curiosity and comment to keep me entertained. My beard has also worked as a deterrent from being invited to boring inaugurations and ribbon cuttings. They come to invite me but the moment they see my well-nourished face they just invite me to the function, not as the chief guest, but as an invitee. I can also hear it under their breath “now we will have to look for a new chief guest”.

There's nothing wrong with facial hair, most men who sport it look wise and regal. But then I also realised that in the Indian mythology most of the bad guys sport big moustaches and beards. You never see the Heroes of Indian Mythology sporting facial hair. Even the gods, it seems, shave. Show me a hairy god in Indian mythology, there's none. Lord Rama looks clean shaven and handsome, Krishna, Shiva, Subramanya all of them are clean shaven but the villains? Look at poor Ravana as if he wasn't burdened enough with all those heads he sports a moustache on all 10 of his faces. Look at our very own Mahishasura, his moustache is as big as his sword. No wonder my good friend's daughter refuses to be carried by me. She enjoyed me carrying her when I was clean shaven, but now she just screams her tiny little lungs out every time I approach “carrying range”. I must shave if not for anything, then at least to play with her.

Now after my “Project Black Beard”, I have realised that facial hair suits only certain people. Not everyone can pull it off. I included. I shall shave tomorrow and go back to my simple clean shaven, non - adventurous life. But let me say this. While it lasted, my fertile follicles were glorious and I basked in it. Everyone must and should try it at least once.

Vikram Muthanna
Courtesy: Star of Mysore