And so, Movember has come and gone. (as they say- hair today, gone tomorrow)
Despite all the drama and mild discomfort, it's safe to say the effort has not been in vain. I'm also pleased to report I was awarded the cup (literally) for Mo-st Money Raised. I hope you will allow me a couple of minutes to hold this cup to my lips and ejoy the sweet taste of victory...aaah.
At this point, I would like to thank my agent... (whoops, sorry wrong speech).
On a serious note, thank you to everyone who donated generously. Every penny is precious in the fight against prostate cancer. Also, big thanks to my colleagues at work and fellow Mo-bros around the world. Big up yourselves.
Until next year.
We have now entered the home stretch of Movember. A mere five days lie between now and cool, clean-shaven elation. Despite the free burgers and the many kind donations that have poured in for this important cause, I will admit that the end cannot come soon enough.
It has been an interesting three weeks so far. The physical transformation has been more radical than anything I imagined, such is the ineffable power of facial hair. That, combined with a hat (and, occasionally, thick rimmed glasses) has made for a such a complete metamorphosis that close friends no longer recognise me on the street. It is as if I am a stranger to them; perhaps even to myself.
A few days ago, I had to take a passport photo and I almost returned it thinking it must have been a mistake. But of course, there was no mistake. It was, after all, a photo booth. Soon that photo will be printed in a visa or some other official document, destined to be inspected closely over the course of the coming months by some over-eager official either at Border Control or my local Cineworld. They say everyone gets 15 minutes of fame. Infamy, however, tends to last a little bit longer.
I can see it now, the photo hinting at a mysterious, almost criminal, past, bearing no similarity whatsoever to the shiny-smooth live specimen. And then the confusion, mixed with incredulity, spreading slowly over the hapless official's face. Perhaps finally I can use the Bob Dylan line I've always wanted to but never quite found the right moment for- You see, officer, I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.
And it will all be worth it.
PS: Please donate while you still can. Movember page, replete with stunning high-quality photographs, is here.
I am now a third of the way in to my Movember Challenge. My number one fear when I started was that my moustache would grow straight outwards from my face, to the point where it would enter a room before the rest of me did. I am pleased to confirm that this particular fear has (so far) not materialised. But with 20 days still to go, we're not out of the woods just yet.
It's not all bad, though- there have been a number of positives already; the main one of course being that I have raised £60 to date, with assurances of more to come. Thank you to everyone who has donated so generously and for those who haven't- I hope you take a good hard look at yourselves.
In addition:
As a reward for exceeding £25 in donations, I now have a voucher for a free hamburger every day between the 8th and 17th of Nov. This has been an altogether unexpected, but enthusiastically welcomed, development. So now I can continue with the important task of changing the face of men's health, and stuff my own face with meat while I am doing it.
On a side note- I did wonder why the free burgers were only for 10 days while the challenge lasts a month, but I suppose ten days worth of burgers is probably the most one can consume before running at least a slight risk of turning into a cow.
The final fringe benefit of my slightly disconcerting appearance is that fellow passengers now recoil just a tiny bit when I board the train after work (that's right, step away from the Mo!). These few extra millimetres are crucial as they allow me to commute with both my feet on the floor rather than in some yoga pose. My normal clean-shaven self will miss the luxury of personal space when it's gone, but for now my hairy-monster self is cartwheeling for joy. (Interesting mental image, no?)
That’s all for now. It’s time to go scare myself in the mirror.
Three things I AM looking forward to:
1. Android KitKat (rumoured arrival- any time now)
No, this is not some new chocolate-covered robot I’ve stumbled across on my latest travels through cyberspace, but Google's latest operating system for mobile devices. Formerly known as Key Lime Pie, it replaces Jelly Bean. Yep, sweet. My thoughts exactly.
2. Starbucks Red Cups (rumoured arrival- Nov 1)
I'm not a year-round fan of this ubiquitous coffee chain, but- this time of year, every time I pass a shop those blasted festive flavours have a way making my credit card spontaneously climb out of my wallet, insert itself into the card reader, and wait expectantly for me to enter the pin number.
3. Christmas (rumoured date- Dec 25; in supermarkets three months earlier)
Celebration of the greatest event in human history. What's not to like?
Three things I AM NOT looking forward to:
1. Sunset at 2 pm (assuming there is a sun in the first place)
Yes, this is that time of year when every shift feels like a night shift. Will take more than a few red cups just to maintain the sanity.
2. Potentially looking like a creep for 'Movember' (ongoing)
This year, for the first time ever, I will be growing (sorry, rephrase: attempting to grow) a moustache for a whole month. On the plus side, I will be playing my part in a global campaign to help fight prostate cancer - the most common cancer amongst men. So, while my physical appearance may be dubious, the cause is most certainly not. If you are able to donate even a small amount, it would be much appreciated. My 'Mo Space' is here.
Special note to my Malayali friends- this is a humble request. Please avoid the 'Meesha Madhavan' jokes. If you do notice a passing resemblance to Mohanlal, however, it is ok for you to mention this. Valarey thanks.
3. Sachin Tendulkar's retirement (14-18 Nov)
I have already rambled on about this. (please refer to previous post below). My adult self will probably try to be all cool and unaffected by it. My 16-year-old self, on the other hand...
If you are looking for a Sachin fix, are curious about the great man's legacy, or in the extremely unlikely (and frankly preposterous) event that that you've never heard of him before, please head to Cricinfo's 'Farewell Tendulkar' site here. It is, figuratively speaking, a soothing balm for the troubled soul.
