When fantasy brushed reality

I was very young when I fell in love with Wham’s super-hit number Last Christmas. When I stepped in teenage, my fascination for George Michael saw new heights and this time it involved his looks besides music. Blinded by star worship I often fantasized falling in love with someone who’d sport a stubble just like my crush.

George Michael

Life moved on and my secret wish grew stronger. One fine day, I met the man of my dreams. In the many moments of sharing our dreams and passions I shared my secret love for men sporting a stubble, like George Michael.

That was a moment when I had deliberately stomped on an axe blade when life had actually gifted me something great in the first place. He was a handsome clean-shaven man, who secretly vowed to be the man of my dreams by sporting a five o’clock shadow. The good news was, it suited him well. Life decided to play along as his new look got the affirmation from the lit up faces of girls wherever he went. The admiration from all the ladies was enough to seal the thought that he now looked a prince in Armani.

In no time I realised the blunder I’d committed for the pain every peck on my cheek or forehead brought my way. Besides, he’d spend lot of time admiring his stubble, grooming it to look just right. Dissuading him from my earlier request seemed like an uphill task. Every meeting would give me goosebumps from the fear of being scraped, scratched besides hurting him by my sudden reactions. In those days Hrithik’s stubble was in great craze. The whole world seemed to be constantly conspiring against me.

It was a catch 22, but soon God heard my prayers by gifting us a long distance courtship. I heaved a sigh of relief just to find my eyes sting for no pain from his stubble meant staying away from him. I was an emotional wreck,  unhappy both near and away from him. I had to take action, find a solution to this mess I’d got myself into. No amount of clever talks seemed to work on him. When lady luck supports your man’s stubble, everywhere you look you’ll see people sporting a rough look and being gushed over for their raw charms. When I was responsible for the pain in my life, I didn’t even have the liberty to blame it all on someone else.

Time rolled on, we got married and moved abroad. I had to play smart, yet safe of not hurting his fragile male-ego. Initially he thought I was shy, then he believed I was trying to make him crave by denying his intimate advances. My repeated denials soon started hurting him. We were both in pain. I physically and he emotionally.

I then decided to gift him a Gillette shaving kit with the latest Gillette Mach3 razor with a five blade shaving razor technology for an intimate shaving experience and a lubricant indicator strip to keep his skin soft and protected. It was an attempt to make him change his mind and to tell him I was serious about his stubble being the issue. But in vain.

All my plans were nose-diving, but I couldn’t just give up. I tried to convince him showing the Gillette Victory advertisement (that was very popular at that time) hoping that may be Roger Federer and Tiger Woods could make him change his mind, but that didn’t work either. Every billboard, every magazine fanned the fire slowly burning our relationship down.

Afterall, it had come down to the future of my marriage. I tried talking to him but he wouldn’t take me seriously and believed I was covering up something. I tried to hint him by placing a few prickly plants on our dining table. I even adventured growing my body hair just to be repulsed by the idea myself before my husband.

One fine afternoon, God decided to have mercy on me. While window shopping on a lazy afternoon, I bumped into his boss’s wife, Alice.

Alice was a fashionable, middle-aged woman who’d developed a soft corner for me in our very first meeting. That afternoon, we decided to indulge in a light chit-chat in a nearby cafe over a slice of cheese cake. After an exchange of formal pleasantries, Alice repeated her kind offer to treat her like a friend, since I was new to the place & culture. Among other topics, she suddenly tapped on an issue that interested me beyond words. The beard.

She made a passing remark on a gentleman sporting a stubble at how un-groomed men looked when they chose to stay unshaven. A wicked plan and a wry smile rose to my lips that very instant. After a few hesitant notes I decided to seek her help with my problem. Her experienced blue eyes lit up while she assured me that my problem will be gone before I’d get an opportunity to show my day’s shopping to my husband.

That evening I returned home with a spring in my step, for I knew Alice had the power and desire to help me. I prepared a meal of my husband’s favorite dishes, dressed in a new outfit and was sifting through the pages of a magazine when my hubby walked in. He looked pretty agitated unlike his chirpy self. I decided to play along, but noted that he didn’t attempt to hug or kiss me like everyday. He let his weight fall on the couch. After a few deafening moments of silence, he finally uttered something I least expected.

“I now understand why the world calls the wife, the boss of the house.” “What??” I asked trying hard to avoid agitating him further.

He turned towards me, gently held my shoulders and said, ” My boss, Mr Brown called me in his cabin just before I was leaving”  he paused as his hand gently rubbed his stubble. He lifted his gaze to look straight in my eyes and said,” He called me to solve our problem”

While I started blabbering that I hadn’t spoken about our personal issues to anyone, let alone Mr.Brown; he continued, ” He has asked me to get rid of the stubble for it makes me look unclean, rough and highly unprofessional”

I think I saw a tear drop form in his eyes, just as he looked to the side pretending to look outside the window. He continued, “You were right sweetie, I need to get rid of George Michael’s ghost and get back to being myself. Women know it best. Happy boss?”

My heart jumped with joy, while I plunged on the opportunity to apologize for it had all started cause of me.

Soon the hurt was forgotten. Overwhelmed, I showered him with some hasty kisses only to be scraped one last time before love turned prick-free forever.

The Song on my mind: Ishq Shava ~ Jab Tak Hai Jaan

Picture Source: George Michael

This post is a part of the ‘Shave or Crave’ movement in association with BlogAdda.com

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*P.S.- This post is a piece of fiction

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