In the world of evolving lingo, where social media trends dictate language and metaphors take a creative spin, even our visits to the salon have acquired a mechanical twist.
The other day, a friend dropped by for a leisurely chat. Amid our freewheeling conversation, we decided to call up another friend and invite him over for a cup of coffee. He answered my call with, ‘Sorry, I can’t join. I’m at denting and painting.’
My mind immediately raced to images of an unfortunate accident, with his car undergoing some serious bodywork at the workshop. Concerned, I asked if everything was alright.
To my surprise, he broke into loud laughter and said, “No, no! I’m at the salon for a haircut and a bit of hair dye!” That’s when I realised: ‘denting and painting’ isn’t just for vehicles anymore — it’s the new lingo for sprucing up one’s aging crown of glory.
The great grey cover-up
Premature greying seems to be a shared affliction these days. Whether it’s climate change, pollution, ultra-processed foods, or a sedentary lifestyle with minimal sun exposure — the reasons are endless, and the greys keep multiplying.
Gone are the days when salt-and-pepper or silver hair commanded respect and symbolised wisdom. Men with silvery locks were deemed dignified, their grey strands akin to badges of honour. But now, the brush of a dye can wipe away generational differences in a single stroke. Suddenly, the son, father, and grandfather all sport identical jet-black hair, reducing grey matter to mere grey memories.
Chori karna, pakadna jana
I, too, have my fair share of salt-and-pepper strands. Fortunately, my light-coloured hair allows me to get away without much concern over dyeing. But should I ever succumb to the dyeing temptation, I’m quite particular — ammonia-free, colour-matched perfection, please!
I’m reminded of a witty quip from one of my college lecturers, who said, ‘Chori karna, pakadna jana’ (steal, but don’t get caught). I have no idea what context prompted the remark, but when it comes to dyeing hair, the sentiment fits like a glove. Dye it if you must, but let no one guess!
The moustache confession
While my head remains relatively safe from dye, my salt-and-pepper mustache doesn’t escape so easily. Every now and then, I ‘paint’ it with the same stealth my lecturer would have admired. As the undyed hair reappears at the edges, a thin silver lining makes itself known — a stark reminder that time spares no one, even those armed with dye brushes.
Luckily, my thinning hair means that even a full coat of dye would make little difference. Nature, however, has been kind enough to leave me with a strategic bald spot at the back, while the front still boasts a respectable crop, framing my face with deceptive dignity.
The one-colour-fits-all brigade
Many among us seem to favour the ‘one colour suits all’ approach, choosing shades so unnaturally dark that it makes even a crow look dull in comparison. In their pursuit of youth, they end up looking younger than people actually half their age — and ironically, not in a convincing way.
Sometimes we come across the holier-than-dye brigade. Every friend group has one: the sage who preaches the virtues of embracing natural greys while discreetly indulging in a clandestine affair with hair dye. On the other hand, I know a few who have bid farewell to brushes altogether, embracing their white fleece with pride and an air of intellectual superiority.
Longing for college hair
How I wish I could rewind to my college days — a time of thick, dark hair that only required a monthly trimming and upkeep. I’d gleefully throw away every dye bottle and brush. But, for now, my ‘denting and painting’ rituals continue, albeit with a touch of self-deprecating humour.
They say age is just a number. But when your ‘number’ starts showing through silver strands, it is tempting to let the brush do the talking. The question is: would you rather be caught in the act or leave your greys to grace the stage?