Regular viewers of television may know that advertisements of haircare products of different brands promise cure for multiple problems in 30 days to four months of regular use — raising hair growth by three to five times, total removal of dandruff and more. An Internet source predicts that the Indian haircare market could reach $4.89 billion by 2025 at the rate of 6.58% in the five years to 2025. That is huge business by any standard.
I was stepping into my twenties and into a promising career when my woes with locks cropped up. Wherever I slept, sat or stood, a fluff from my scalp trailed behind me like a shadow. I tried all the advice, suggestions and remarks, even unsolicited, from all quarters. I dabbed and soaked my head with a strong smelling, dark viscous “Ayurvedic” oil. As a visible result, people simply avoided me.
I lost more hair after childbirths and with occasional illnesses. Lured by advertisements and promotional materials, I visited a trichologist regularly, only to realise that I had mistaken the cosmetician for a medical doctor. Vaso-dilator topical solutions on the scalp and 5-alpha-reductase dihydrotestosterone inhibitors also proved futile.
Vain pursuits
Believing in a relative’s “personal experience”, I applied a reputed brand of hair-dye every four weeks much before the first grey appeared on my crown. Hearing that a neighbour’s kitten’s fur and dog’s coat improved with calcium supplements, I got myself over-the-counter mineral and vitamin supplements. I joined the “go natural” brigade and made my own potions for ingestion and concoctions for external application using ingredients such as amla, fenugreek and castor oil and exotic items such as jojoba oil and saw palmetto.
My exposure to science columns made me wonder if my malady could be androgenic alopecia (male pattern baldness), stress-induced alopecia, or the beginnings of alopecia areata (total baldness). The term areata universalis was still not popular, though the condition of loss of eyelashes and body hair was known. Later, an endocrinologist “diagnosed” the problem as hypothyroidism and assured me that with regular medication, all will be well. By then, I had begun to avoid being photographed and attending social gatherings.
The medication for hypothyroidism continues. My hair is now thinner than a mouse’s tail. Every time I gather the fallen hair to be thrown into the dustbin, I keep wondering how much more are left on my head and for how much longer.
Once a male acquaintance with not much civility asked me if my hair was regrowing after tonsuring. Such remarks are no different from body-shaming. Youngsters too face a similar plight. It pained me to the point of fury when a family member on a video call jocularly asked to be shown the balding crown of a younger ward.
So, Will Smith’s slap at the 94th Academy Awards function on Chris Rock for cracking a joke at the baldness of his wife Jada Pinkett Smith was no shock to me. Losing one’s crowning glory is no joke. Losing it to an incurable medical condition such as alopecia areata is no laughing matter. If slapping the joker is not a civil response to the humiliation felt by the lady and her family, the joker’s apology cannot be balm enough for the pain inflicted on an already agonising soul. Yet, with celebrity endorsements at the very awards show, cosmetic houses continue to rake in their millions daily with their promises.
radhapvraghunathan@gmail.com
