Ok, here’s what happened. For years my eldest sis has been pointing out this small bald spot on the back of my head. I ignored it cos I was young and reckless and of course, with a head full of hair that I didn’t really like cos I always thought it was too thick.
Suddenly, a rollercoaster stint at the New Paper and leftover stress from the exams in May left me with plenty of hair falling out. So what did I do? First, I went to cut it shorter…and shorter…then I lopped the whole damned thing off.
I didn’t regret it, though I do get kinda tired of telling people why I cut it off.
Good friends:”I’m balding”.
Ok friends:”I’m begging for alms, need to look the part.”
Acquaintences: “Don’t ask”
Maybe it’s the hormones, maybe it’s a judgment but I confess that there have been times when I just argued with God about it. “Why me man? What did I do?” I would be lying if I said that I didn’t at times blame God for it, it’s my human nature after all to attribute responsibility but I would be even more foolish to say that I was right in doing so. So much for loving Him if I can resent Him. It’s just kinda frustrating you know, when you’ve enjoyed a full crop of hair for so many years and suddenly you begin to look like that tired old man on the MRT train.
Well, since that time, I’ve more or less come to accept my fate. Or God’s will, whatever. It’s a subject which irks me whenever someone brings it up. It’s sad, yah, but through much reflection and counting of my blessings, I realized that the hair matter is like totally inconsequential. It’s not even a sacrifice for me in any sense, if I think of what God has done in my life, even when I didn’t realize His good works. I prayed fervently through my end of 1998 exams for God to save me from the depression I couldn’t stop myself from sinking into. He didn’t do it, but He gave me the resolve to see myself through the exams, balding or not. And for that I give thanks. Perhaps the balding experience was a blessing in disguise, because it taught me more lessons in the importance of appearances in our lives. It took a good and long trip to Nepal for me to finally get over this mild case of paranoia. There, I asked God, what my purpose in life was, and one answer I think I received was: “It’s got nothing to do with your hair.” I do hope that’s correct.