A Love Letter to My Beard

To Beard or Not To Beard

(The translation of the note I made on the day I was forced to remove my beard - 30 August 2015)

Dear Beard- Mon Amour, 

It is with great pain that I write this letter to you. Even though you have been a part of me for quite a while now, you do know that in the past couple of months, things and feelings have grown stronger amongst us. That's the reason I haven't hurt you even with a single stroke of scissors or blade. Now, a circumstance has emerged where I should leave you. I had expected this. But I never imagined our parting to be this painful and sad. Fate has played its card here, a cruel one that is. 

I liked you. That is the reason why I, someone who do not even apply soap properly while bathing, took care of you daily using shampoo, conditioner, oil etc- it was my immense love to you that prompted me to do all that. Terrorist, ISIS guy, Militant, where all names which people used to abuse you through me- but I fought tooth and nail against such attacks and protected you. From now, I cannot. I am tired. Let me explain how such a situation came to be. 

It is with great happiness that I came back home today, after long months. The power went off the moment I stepped into the portico and my bother announced my arrival to my mother, as we where waiting for her to open the door. Since it was dark, she didn't see my face when I got in. Later occurrences make me believe that if there was power in those two minutes of my arrival, our separation would have happened then and there only. Things where that bad, dreadful, and abominable.

The battle continues...

I am not describing in detail what all horrible things were said. All my logical and biblical arguments about beard and its importance where ruthlessly discarded by mom. My pleading of the cause using the photos of St. Joseph and St. Frederick Ozanam, both flaunting their beards, was also rejected. "What kind of shape is this? Don't come back here anymore. Aren't you ashamed to live like this, so carelessly?" said and asked she. "Don't say that mom. I take care of my beard everyday using shampoo and all," said I, to no avail. "I will lock you up at home. I will set fire to that beard using kerosene," said she. Her arguments were not logical at all. She continued her desperate and cruel attempts to get rid of my jewel, my precious you. 

I would have suffered anything for you. But her final weapon destroyed my whole spirit to fight. She declared that she would not give me the Dried Beef, Dried Prawns, and Chutney Powder which I was supposed to take back to Hyderabad, unless I shave of or trim my beard. A shiver went through my spine. I felt tired. I accepted my defeat. There was no energy left in me to fight. "The path of righteousness" ended there, for me. I failed you. I am leaving you tomorrow. 

Let me remind you my dear beard friend, that this parting is not forever. We will meet soon. This temporary split is happening only because I am at the mercy of this house and this woman, my mother. The prophet is always not welcome with his ideologies at home or his hometown, as you know. The same has happened here as well. Here, I bid you tears of farewell. Here, I cry hard. Here, I stop.

Good Bye!

Truly Yours,

(Signature)

Athul