Dr. Manmohan Singh is my tau. No blood relation this. The Prime Minister bears a striking resemblanace to my father. Both sport a black ‘n’ white khichdi beard.

While I am blissfully unaware of tai’s reaction to tau’s facial growth, mom’s disenchantment and grumbling acceptance of pop’s crop is all too familiar to me.

Having failed in all her strategies – request, persuasion, threat, and warning - she almost gave up. Then came the invitation to dine at the Krishna Oberoi, now the Taj Krishna. Mother took one last chance and issued an ultimatum: dye or part ways at the entrance lobby. She even threatened to feign ignorance should any one ask about him.

A do or dye situation. Father succumbed to the black revolution. Early morning of the D – Day saw him armed with his dyeing apparatus - the dye, petri dish, gloves, brush et al. Even a scarecrow of an outfit hastily designed out of a colourful Sunday edition. It is another story that mother’s apron too had mysteriously disappeared from the kitchen.

Several artistic strokes with the brush and he was ready for a wash. His field was now a skillful batik work masterpiece. Ignoring his pleas for a ‘natural’ look, mother brushed him up completely. A second wash and he was dyed to kill. None was too pleased with the reincarnation than mother.

They made a grand entrance at the Durbar Hall – together.

The barber had a field day the next morning reaping father’s facial harvest.



WISHING YOU ALL A HAPPY AND HALE ‘N’ HEARTY 2005!