The Strait of Hormuz

To lose or not to lose? This was a question I had been debating for long.

No. I am not talking about losing my virginity. That is something about which there was no doubt or delay. Lost it at the first instance and never looked back.

This was something more public and a difficult decision to make.

Many a times I contemplated doing it and made the initial strides as well. Just before the swoosh, held back and went back to status quo. The fear of public shame and mockery was one big reason but even more important than that was a painful memory of the past which wrecked my mind and haunted me in daylight.

Strait of Hormuz is the narrow waterway between Iran and Oman. In human anatomy terms, it is like the small space between the nose and the lips which the dictionary calls it the philtrum.  Every time I stood before the mirror with lather on my Strait of Hormuz and the the Gulfs of Oman and Persia to the right and left, a face would emerge out of the glass. A big-eyed man with hair flying everywhere with a dark bush of a moustache shouting at the highest pitch any person could emit…

Moustache is the mirror of human soul and mind, Moochh toh man ka darpan hai.

Insaan ka character uske chehre se nahi, uske moochhon se pata chalta hai!.

Jis ka mooch nahi, uske paas niyat nahi.

The very thought that Utpal Dutt would blow my ear drums the day I took off my little moustache kept intact for close to fifty years. He would have called me…

Moochh munda kahin ka… one who has shaved himself clean.

Golmaal was released in 1979 when I was sixteen and since then these abuses, which were a shade lesser than what some heads of states write on their social media handles, have deterred me from shaving them off.

The moustache in the initial years had its advantages. My sister who was elder to me by close to three years was denied entry into a theatre hall for an ‘A’ certified English movie while I watched it with my friend the very next day. For once, my scores in class tests did not matter, the slight growth of hair on my face made me feel superior to her.

I still vividly remember how on a cold December morning in Delhi, I first went to the homes of two of my friends in South Extension from where we took the Mudrika DTC bus on Ring Road route to go to a remote cinema hall beyond Delhi University to watch the ‘Spanish Fly’ which was the highest X rated movie to hit the movie theatres in those days. All three of us had added on those initial growth we had, a couple of coats of eye brow pencil that I had flicked from my mom’s handbag at home. The high point then was to celebrate the end of class ten ICSE Board exams by watching Padmini Kohlapure in Insaaf ka Tarazoo at Odeon. We made so much noise that day, it would appear to the other people in the hall as if we had secured the highest six-point grades in the just concluded examinations. The faint lines of moochh had once again got us the entry that day with no questions asked at the gate about our age to watch an adult movie.

Since then, the moochh, however, small, shapeless and non-descript has never left my side. It is there in all my photographs from college to work, my wedding to daughter’s wedding and beyond. I was not particularly proud of it but could never think of removing it as well. I would envy my friends who had thick bushy moustaches, some even had the curvy ones which make them look macho when young and in later years it gave them gravitas and personality that I missed.

Post-retirement phase of life is the best time with no pretty face to impress or feel shy of any awkward looks by colleagues and clients. The time is ripe to check box some of the bucket list items.  This long-standing one seemed doable at the date and time of my convenience. Easier said than done. These important decisions for the ‘family man’ cannot be unilateral. The serious matter of moochh was placed before the Honourable Internal Court of Justice at Home. All matters of importance have to be decided unanimously here since, apart from the appellant, the court bench consists of only two judges. A split verdict would mean the defeat of the motion for the appellant has no casting vote here. A very fair judicial system was in place at Lilium, Mahindra Gardens.

The senior and older of the two judges was of the opinion that she has been reminding the appellant that with his moustache turning from black to grey to white, he looks extremely bad in in the selfies and group photographs that are shared on the family WA chat. She said that had the moochh been thick like a handlebar, it would have looked impressive. She was strongly for the motion and banged the gavel shouting… Just Do It and Do it Now!

The younger judge vehemently opposed the motion. She said, I have seen this thing grow no bigger or shorter since the time I was born. I picture my father forever in my heart and mind as one with the moochh and he should never remove it. My dad does not look one bit old for his age even with the moustache going all salty. He will look funny without it.

Having failed to get any decision on the opening or closing of the Hormuz Strait on earthly courts, I had to go to a higher level of judiciary. Only the divine intervention could decide the fate of my moustache. The problem with us Sanatanis is that we have too many gods and goddesses. Who could be the arbitrator for this most important decision was the bigger question? Who-so-ever gods I met, he would pass in on to another saying he was busy or did not have jurisdiction over the matter. This was quite similar to the great nation’s Attorney General who said that courts did not have right to decide the fate of religious matters. Similarly, the heavenly gods refused to intervene in a human matter that was of utmost importance to just one individual on one of the zillions of lives in the billions of planets they were managing.

With none of the gods adjudicating, I started thinking deeply on the subject. Except Brahma, is there any other Hindu god who bears a moustache? My research yielded zero results but surely in the huge pantheon we have, there still might be one or two. This was a divine clue for me… if gods do not keep moustaches and only the evil forces they fight to save the world inevitably have thick and bold ones stretching from ear to ear, my answer was for the taking. No matter what Utpal Babu said and shouted, I needed to open the f**king Strait or live in Hell and allow unobstructed traffic from east to west. After all, gods had spoken to me.

And so, on the All Fools’ Day, when my working-class brethren were doing their madness and mockery in their respective worlds, this retiree took a new blade… one that was as sharp as a finest Katana moulded by the best swordsmith and befitting the hands of the fiercest Samurai. Then with one clean stroke, cleaned off one side and then followed up on the other side. I washed my face and lifted my head to see my face in the mirror… Utpal Sir had vanished and what remained was my head with a small growth of hair still there on my balding head but the dreaded Strait of Hormuz had been opened up. The Strait now looked clean and smooth…

As I stepped out of the bathroom and faced the senior lady judge at home, I was surprised to hear her say… you’re looking young and good!  Quickly did FaceTime with the younger judge living afar who, too, now approved of my new look.

This victory was relatively easy and now I decided to take a walk outside and see how the known people in the building and the market place react. In order to reveal my new look gradually, I acted like SRK in Om Shanti Om… the Manoj Kumar look with my fingers covering the area around my mouth… leaving just enough gaps between the fingers for the curious folks to peep through. The walk was uneventful and surprisingly no one even noticed my moochh-munda look. I passed the test of public scrutiny with ease and now my ghosts could rest in peace. From now, no more worries about trimming, no more mistakes of ensuring the two parts on either side remain of the same size… it is now just chop... chop...chop… and swoosh every day!

The blockade of the Strait had been removed for good. And peace reigned in the world.

SS