Little compromises we make in our lives

Compromises in our day to day lives are inevitable, I guess. It may not be possible to have our way, all the time.

If, for any reason, we do get our way, we should still try to seek a middle ground, strike a compromise and get on with our lives. Even Stephen Covey, author of Seven Habits of Highly Effective People acknowledges compromise as a low form of "win- win".

Well, here's how I learned this lesson recently.

I had long been debating a confounding question: "To shave off my mustache or not?"

This was a difficult decision to make, as the general rule of thumb in my culture seems to be that all adult males should sport a mustache. But I was keen to know how I would look like without the hair on the upper lip.

My thoughts drifted back to the early 1980s, when I had to accompany my sister-in-law's husband -- or "co-brother" to Indians -- to Tirupathi, south India, the abode of the Lord of the Seven Hills. Now, what the Vatican is to Catholics, Tirupathi is to Hindus.

A large number of Hindu devotees often take a vow that if things go their way, they would undertake a pilgrimage to this holy town and offer the hair on their heads to the deity. In addition, when children pass their first birthday, it is customary for their parents to take them to Tirupathi and tonsure their siblings.

During such a visit with my co-brother, the ritual of offering the hair on his son's head was duly completed. Immediately after the ceremony, without much aforethought, I sat down before the barber and got my head totally shaved, along with the mustache, the epitome of masculinity -- much to the consternation of my wife!

Since then, I have been maintaining a mustache without a break.

I'd often entertain the idea of once again removing my mustache but my wife, the sole superpower in my household, always vetoed the notion.

Inwardly, I was slightly resentful that I didn't have the freedom even to make personal grooming decisions. So, what more opportune time than the year-end holidays to remove my mustache and thereby reclaim my lost prestige?

This time, however, my wife declared that she didn't really care whether I kept my mustache or not.

As the saying goes, "If not we, who else? If not now, when else?" I therefore went ahead and shaved off my mustache on the very first day of the holidays.

At long last, I felt great relief all over my face. I could now see my forgotten face. It was glorious to see the original shade of my skin, which had been hidden under the mustache for ages.

When my wife saw me without my hairy accessory, she merely remarked that it was my choice, and had nothing else to say.

All the same, she could not help but comment every now and then that I shouldn't have taken such an "extreme and hasty" step.

My teenaged son appeared to be more supportive. He appraised my face from different angles and pronounced: "Well, Dad, all I can say is that you certainly look different. Your lips look a lot bigger. I think I'd rather get used to seeing you like this."

One week passed, and I was thoroughly enjoying my newfound freedom, oblivious to the fact that my son and in particular, my wife, were conspiring to change my mind and get me to regrow the mustache.

I was working on my computer at home when my son casually took a few snapshots of my face with his digital camera. He then proceeded to upload the fresh pictures onto the computer, and asked me to take a look at the "full view" of my face. At the same time, he arranged photos of my old face, mustache and all, for comparison.

Gosh! How different I looked!

Now, I became unsure as to how my friends and colleagues would react to this "new" face of mine.

I decided that I shouldn't remain so adamant on such a trivial matter. Instead, it would be wiser to compromise and revert to my old, familiar face than to go against the wishes of the two most important people in my life.

So, well, here I am, growing my well-worn mustache without a hint of self-pity.

Besides, isn't it living for others, particularly our loved ones, what life is all about? -- D. Chandramouli