I’m Unibrow And I Know It

Being a handsome guy comes at a price. You get more attention from girls than you can handle, your bro-friends hold envious feelings for you, and your parents are worried that you may run away to Mumbai because you are too gorgeous for mundane jobs. Of course, I have never experienced any such feelings because on a scale of 0 to 10, where 10 is, say, Hrithik Roshan, I am just a few decimal places short of Raju Srivastava in his youthful days, which were probably three centuries ago. 

Yet, I feel there are a lot of public attractions on my face, like the aam-aadmi-version of Akhilesh Yadav’s nose, the wheatish complexion (if the wheat was spoiled by rain and had a dirty brown fungus over it), multiple scars due to accidents involving cricket and/or alcohol, and eyebrows so thick, they could be useful for unmarried couples in summer season. 

I have Punjabi roots, which clearly means that I am a loud, drink-friendly guy who must have butter present in/on/around his food items. That also means I’m a very hairy guy, and other than ‘obvious’ places that I cannot mention here because apparently it embarrases my dear ones.

I grew up with much hair cover appearing elsewhere on the body, so much that I look like a brown bear when shirtless, but not the cute one, a thoroughly malnourished one instead. I was kind of ok with those developments, preparing myself for an arranged marriage so that the above facts were more of a surprise than a compromise for my future wife. So let today also be the day that I come out of closet, and tell you all that I’m a Unibrow, and I trim/raze/do other things to NOT stay so.

It’s not easy being a Unibrow in this world full of impeccable, dark and threading-done-by-Jawed-Habib eyebrows. During my childhood, Kajol brought the Unibrow into fashion, but dancing around in a towel and romancing SRK on screen were a few confounding factors that weren’t present in my case. Right through my adolescence, I have grown up watching my eyebrows complete the Howrah bridge on my forehead, and it was, like other Bong things I could never understand, not a good feeling at all.

One fine day, I decided to get rid of it, so I picked up the scissors, and proceeded towards the mirror to break the permanent hand-shake on my forehead. 5 minutes and about 850 different angles later, I wished that I should have gone to a professional, and then didn’t step out of my room for the next 20 days to avoid showing my forehead which looked like as if a mongoose went all ninja over it. 

With time, me and people around me got used to the fact that I, depending on the day of the week, may have variable levels of proximity between my eyebrows. 

Handling my Unibrow did help me mature as a person who is not embarrassed of his facial features, or can simply lie about being comfortable with his looks very confidently. I recently read an article on how women in Cuba find unibrow sexy, but that makes me regret their existence more than my decision. See! Such maturity. 

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Long Way To Go In A Long Distance

Around 11 years ago, my 10th board exams results were announced and on that day, my father finally had the ‘talk’ with me. No, not the puberty talk, because he left that job to experts like Fashion TV and elder sibling. Instead, he talked to me about his expectations, which he clearly stated that he had just two:

1. Clear entrance exam of some professional course, because I am SharmaJi ka ladka, and that’s perhaps my only purpose in life. 

2. Find a girl for myself, because even though my mother called me ‘mera Sundar Rajkumar’, I was 16, used a mirror daily and hence was old enough not to be fooled by that, and should know that arranging a match for me was very difficult, or in his words, “I am too old for that shiz, beta“. 

In the hindsight, the conversation seems to have motivated me enough to crack PMT entrance and get myself admitted into the quicksand that is the medical world, and I also begged my way worked my charm to get a girl to date me. 

After 5 years of extremes of tolerance/romance, the girl moved to a different city for post-graduation. Our mutual friends are still divided over whether better education or her inner voice telling her to get away from me to feel human again was the prime reason that made her choose a different city. Anyways we, motivated from stupid English Rom-Coms and a few boringly repetitive viral listicles, decided to give long-distance a chance. Here I am, little less than two years gone by, still trying to decipher the pros and cons of long distance. Here are my rough notes so far:

1. Security.

Let me make it clear that I’m not talking about emotional or romantic security. I am talking about being safe from getting physically thrashed by her because she finds my rendition of “tu-tu-tu tu-tu-taara, todo na dil hamara” in public neither romantic nor funny. On an average, I do/say at least 18 things in a day that make her want to break something on my head, thus long distance is keeping me safe and teaching her the virtues of patience and non-violence.

2. Not getting to see each other in person.

It’s tough for anyone not getting to see their better-half for months together, but new technology like Skype and Face-time might have made it easier for couples now. Although I am yet to experience that, as it may or may not have to do something with the quality of my open-mouthed adenoid facies with a hump nose that her WiFi never seems to work whenever I suggest a Skype call. I’m just kidding about my face. I’ve been told that on public holidays and long weekends, I look like poor man’s Ranveer Singh with severe radioactive exposure. I take that as a compliment. 

3. Meeting frequency. 

The anticipation of meeting in person after months is a great feeling for the both of us. We sit, look into each other’s eyes and talk for hours about how much I’ve missed her and how this time away from me has given her a chance to think about all the poor life choices she has made, mostly including saying ‘yes’ to me. Of course, parting ways again is one of the most painful feelings in the world, second only to a few times the trolley carrying a patient ran over my foot in the hospital. 

4. Sending gifts. 

Guys are not good at selecting gifts, hence I use scientific methods to send her gifts, which include putting whatever last gift she gave me on Google search to determine my budget, and repeatedly pestering her sister and friends to find out if she wants anything specific. Usually, I fail miserably at this, and hence now she has accepted the fact that the only thing good about dating me is the huge scope for bitching after breaking up with me. 

To sum it up, long distance sucks, and I am thankful to the concerned girl for putting up with me through thick and thin and proximity and distance. I do accept it’s not easy to date me, but hey, after a 30 minute shower using fair-and-handsome face-wash for me and three drinks into her, beauty can lie in the eyes of the beholder. For that, and everything else, I only have a thank-you note in disguise of a silly blog post. 

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Rumourously Yours, 2016

A lot of bad things happened in 2016. Tragedies happened in Syria and France, Trump became the president of the United States, Kya Kool Hain Hum sequel got released, Arvind Kejriwal and Shobhaa De continued using their vocal cords, so yes, it was a pretty sad year in general. Still, the optimistic(or helpless otherwise) animal that we Homo sapiens are, we could not digest the fact that it was a completely useless year, hence we just went ahead and created the news that we perhaps wanted to hear. Sometimes we did it because we wanted to feel good about ourselves. Other times, we did it for sheer fun, just to see how random or stupid we could get before our own WhatsApp creativity could go viral. Here are the best rumours that did the rounds in 2016:

1. UNESCO awards.


As per WhatsApp forwards, our national anthem and Narendra Modi were judged as the best anthem and Prime Minister in the world respectively. So other than being an international peace corporation for promotion of science and culture, UNESCO also became the pathetic international version of Indian Idol and Bigg Boss. Although fake, it was still a thing to be happy about, yet I kept waiting for some bhakt to pop-up and take offence as to why UNESCO didn’t add ‘ji’ after the word Modi. Also, there was a doubt that the UNESCO jury didn’t stand up when the anthem was played, so an RSS team well versed in patriotic motivation techniques like fist fighting and using a hockey stick was dispatched at the earliest.

2. Next-gen 2k note.


Demometization was a huge thing, I finished the year without money in my wallet, but I choose not to complain, because it is still better than a USA citizen who finished 2016 without a leader with a respectable IQ or a person from middle-east who finished the year without a head on his shoulders. In the aftermath of that came my favorite rumour of the year that the new 2000 rupee note has a GPS chip and radio-active ink, which will help to catch if there is hoarding of large number of notes. 
We Indians are an inquisitive lot, and some of us tore the note apart to look for the chip, only to find themselves with a destroyed 2000 rupee note, and that epidemic led to the most popular Twitter trend of the year #ChutiyaBanaYaarDiyaModiNe. The entire rumour sequence was fun, and I tried to start a few myself, like the new note honestly flies out of your wallet if you haven’t paid your taxes and that the Gandhi photo on it bobs its head to Eminem lyrics if the music is loud enough. Unfortunately, my creativity never caught on.

3. Death of Morgan Freeman.

The 79-year old actor Morgan Freeman, also known as slightly darker Om Puri of the west, was rumoured to be dead for the nth year in a row. The stories grow so much every year in terms of details as to when and how he died, that he must pinch himself too to feel alive on reading such a click-baiting article. This year though, a few websites went ahead and declared the death of Britney Spears too, who probably was busy at that time trying to prove to the cops that she is not Lindsey Lohan. 

4. Najeeb Jung’s replacement. 

The LG of New Delhi(I still don’t know what LG stands for so I’ll let it be) Mr. Najeeb Jung, also known as recurring Piles problem in Arvind Kejriwal’s life, resigned earlier this month, and Kejriwal probably celebrated with a movie, and overdosing on whiskey and/or cough syrup. Though now Kiran Bedi is rumoured to be coming back from Puducherry to make his life miserable again, and we will see his ‘sulky uncle who doesn’t get Jalebi at wedding’ face very soon. 

I am hoping for better news and rumours in 2017, like complete ban by WHO on lip-surgeries, Kejriwal’s twitter account to allow only movie reviews, ‘PayTM accepted here’ stickers to be stuck on bar-dancers’ waists for the ease of business, and of course a new Morgan Freeman story. Just for old times’ sake. 

Wishing you all a very happy new year. May you remember most of your resolutions after the party on 31st. 

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