For the years question had haunted me: What is it like, really like, to be a bald man in
The following is a brief account of my eight hairless months.
Shortly after having my scalp scrapped smooth in a local Indian barber shop, my mother saw me for the first time. At first, she said nothing. Then she regained consciousness. I soon discovered that not all bald men lead glamorous lives like Bruce Wills and Vin Diesel.
Protracted baldness does, however, have its drawbacks; sunburn was a particularly painful side effect during that times. On bright days, people like me often suffer from something akin to snow blindness, owing to the intense glare my scalp radiated.
Although a hairless head might appear to be easy to care for, baldness actually entails a hygienic trade-off: less hair to comb, in exchange for more face to wash.
As my hair gradually grew back after I stopped shaving regularly some weeks ago, I noticed that during the early stage my head was useful for sanding irregularly objects and for scouring pots, pans, bowls, and the like.
Now, as my naturally hair grows in more fully, I find that my head readily clings to nearly every kind of fur, fabric, and coarse material. For lack of a better term, I call this phenomenon “The Velcro Effect.”
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