|By Maxwel Crasta, India [ Published Date: January 17, 2011 ]|
As the title suggests I'm writing about the grey days of my life. Everyone has their own I believe. Well it goes like this. Accompanied by my daily routine to get to work, I was in a mood of computing the chores involved. In order to prioritize I was shaping my French beard to a clean cut. The glimpse of my moustache shook me as I saw a grey one among the others. It was a thin long line of hair but it was grey, I mean it was white. Why me, I thought? I'm just right now enjoying the moments of life with solace with marital cards lying pending on the deck it was critical for me to have a white moustache at such an age.
I tried to ignore it but it kept me bugging. Finally I succeeded to remove it without a trace bringing me much needed relief. On close observation for the following days there were no signs of any new growth and I was content. But to my horror after a few days I noticed there were 2 new white rims of hair growing in the exact same spot wherein I had removed the one grey.
On this end I preferred some advice. Who else? None other than my buddy & my mate. First he had a hearty laugh listening to my story of woe but he later realized how particular I was about the looks of grey hair on the moustache. He suggested trying and using the age concealing products available in the market but I disagreed with his remark. I strongly felt they would make the matters worse. Day by day the number of whiteys increased and along with them my worries too. I tried and convinced myself that it was the part of transformation to the middle aged era but to no good.
I started browsing the web for further information on my plight but I couldn't find a convincing answer.
As the saying goes “Old is Gold" I was wondering if my little whiskers would turn into gold, as then they had a resale value. As a reward to my unanswered queries my relative paid a visit to me. After discussing the day to day affairs he had a buffy laugh at my showing whiteys. I tried to ignore the matter and started up with different topics for discussion but he was stern on knowing what I had done to conceal my whiteys. Alas! I explained to him my concerns and he came out with an interesting solution.
Solution was very very simple - Avoid worrying, more importantly stop worrying. A remarkable solution to start upon but the question was how? He had the answer as well. In the entire period of life we as humans tend to worry for almost everything but by doing it none of us benefit as the ultimatum is already been fixed and no one can change it. How true I thought! Day to day we worry about simple things making life complex and forgetting the simple quote “One day at a Time". Well the topic is incomplete without knowing what happened to the whiteys! Alas! All's well that ends well. May be I had stopped worrying and hence after that the whiteys withered away and no whiteys have taken place until I finished jotting on this topic.