Being surrounded by students at my place of stay has had a wonderful effect on me. Not only am I feeling much younger than I used to, but also “imparting wisdom” (now, don’t give me that who-told-you-you-are-wise? look) to the young, energetic minds. I can still remember around 2 months ago, when I was still at Chennai, I called my mom one fine day and started crying like something terrible had happened (My mom didn’t think it was that bad. But, what do parents know?) What had actually happened was, I was getting ready to go to office and was tying up my hair and found this one gray hair on my head. Just one, but that was enough to get me started. I cried nonstop for 2 hours and bunked office that day because I had a terrible headache (the same head that contained the gray hair.) Not funny, right? I didn’t think it was either!
All my friends advised me not to pluck it out because it will make the rest of the hair go gray too. And I just followed their advice. Why I am saying all this is because today I spotted the same gray hair and boy has it grown or what! (The nice black ones never grow and keep falling, but this one grows like there is no tomorrow. Sigh!!!) It’s longer and shinier than ever. It looks so good on me that me is thinking if me should color a streak of my hair silver. This idea is not without reason. For years, people have referred to me as “kutty”, “the little one”, “chhoti” and what not. Even my younger sister's friends didn't think they should call me "akka" or "didi". There have been innumerable times when I have been denied the respect my age truly deserves. (Don't smirk!!!) There have been times when I would be traveling in a train and my co-passengers would invariably ask the question, “What are you studying?” No, not even “What are you doing?” It has to be “What are you studying?” always. And this gray hair would make me look mature and people won’t be asking me what I am studying, at least. Also, I have been a great fan of Mrs. Indira Gandhi and her gray hair that I feel if I get more gray hair, I’d cut my hair short and style myself like her. Day by day, I am actually becoming proud of my only silver hair!
I have to thank the people who commented on my previous posts giving me the much needed courage and strength to hang on because times have changed and I am actually enjoying every minute here. From cutting my finger accidentally while cutting carrots to roaming around to going on late night walks and chatting endlessly in to the night, I am having the time of my life. No, it is still not as good as life at Chennai, it may never be as good. But I am satisfied – with the chillness, with the students nearby, with the fools around, with my gray hair – I am content and it may not be too late before I say I am happy and mean it and get my crazy self back.