Each morning, I look at that face and say, “Hello Handsome!”
It is a face darkened by the sun and creased by time. It is a face layered with history and circumstances. Indeed, there is a story behind everything I see.
The pits are from an unrelenting bout of acne. Reminiscent of craters on the moon formed by the bombarding of meteors. It tells the story of a teen experiencing the loss of a parent and of all that was familiar, all the while obsessing over an acne breakout.
Above an eyebrow rests a little scar. It tells the story of a small motorcycle accident that occurred when a friend dragged a young adult away from his thesis for some recreation. No one was hurt much, thankfully. Perhaps that is why I see in it - a souvenir of a selfless friendship.
There are creases everywhere, formed by years of thinking, worrying, and time spent in the sun. The horizontal line on the forehead that first appeared in the 20s, coinciding with a diploma, a job, and a hard-fought battle to be understood. The vertical lines remnants of cheeks of yore.
I observe the receding hairline and gray hair and acknowledge the privilege of age which is not granted to all.
“At 50, everyone has the face he deserves” said George Orwell. I agree. But I will also add that at 53 I have the face that I have earned.
I am Mahesh Subramony and this is my perspective.
