Stranded!

Hi! I’m one of the few survivors on the shiny surface of the great Mr. Jack’s noggin. His name really is Jakaram Gafur, but he has always taken a fancy for shortened westernized names, and ‘Jack ‘is but consequential.

During his heyday, when he was all of twenty five, and when there was a lot of might in his arms, we were a happier lot. For starters, there were many of us. I had my position right on top of the pate, while there were so many on the extreme left and right, and the new wave flowing down to the neck. Not to forget a strip running alongside his big wide ears! That was some crop, really! We were a well groomed lot, and we smacked of richness. Jack would carry us on him to places high and mighty! We all got to see the hottest looking lasses in sizzling attire, we got to see men with crop as great as ours, but in varied styles.

The scene was slightly different when Jack was a student though. He would use coconut oil to see that we stayed strong and healthy. I never got an opportunity to sniff myself, but my neighbors didn’t smell great anyway! In fact, I haven’t rued my life on his top more than the extent to which I did those days! It used to remind me of the ghettos of the turbulent past. A bunch of seniors and I used to regularly agree that he needed to learn a thing or two about fashion and good looks! Hell, he used to stifle us with a round cap quite porous in nature, which was but a lid on our freedom. I remember one chap quipping about the dome, which would fall on us once a week. “Gentlemen, get ready for the blindfolded walk!”

One day, somebody suggested that he had it in him to be a model. Chiseled features, what? Of course, Mr. Somebody also told him that he had a fantastic mop which only added to his appeal! Beautiful people, weren’t we? So off set Jack, to a nearby studio. The bloke behind the lens did a fine job of capturing him in complete style. Armed with a portfolio, Jack met a famous designer the next day and it was the beginning of an era of fame and fortune. ‘Jackie Walker’, his bosom pal had apparently called him! Our lot started seeing better days. Gel! We could finally say we gelled well with Jack! A thick and a caring shampoo , and a comfortable shower from warm white water diving from fancy bath fittings later, it used to be time for the crystal blue paste (what everyone prefers to call Gel), to get spread on us. Wow! That was some massage! And we just became more fragrant! In length we grew, and in strength as well.

We basked in such glory for a good few years before I started seeing some of my buddies just vanishing. They were the ones who stood at the front. I reckon it’s a universal phenomenon that people at the front are the ones who give their lives, be it war or the head. His forehead clearing out, everyone could see the lines of worry writ large across. And we were worried no less! Jack’s friends said it was hereditary, and the blighter accepted it. Those were the days when treating loss of folks like me wasn’t very popular and was extremely expensive. So he just let be! It was sheer apathy, we felt. It was about the same time that his contract with his studio bosses terminated. His dad, who had none of our ilk on his head, strongly advised him to quit walking about and help him in business. And that my friend, signaled the beginning of the end!

As I tell you this, I hold one of the last remaining bastions of hope. I’m frail, and I’ve lost color. I along with others have grayed with age. I’m not long enough anymore. Sun light hurts me, as it does to his head. I need to be cut regularly, so that he doesn’t look like Einstein. I haven’t smelled gel in years. We are a dried up lot now. Mind you, his sideburns are still a stronger patch, and an attraction. It probably helped them to have remained on the sidelines!

In a while, Jack will set off to visit a chap who claims to bring back my folks, from the dead. I personally haven’t bought the idea, but one cannot question science. I have lived my life on one head, and seen great and not-so-great times. I’m not too keen on meeting an entirely new bunch of artificially created sprouts who, in every possibility will be showing off. Gosh, please help me tide over the coming ordeal and have a natural passage! I’m stranded like never before!!!