My skin, my call

See, here’s my take on skin…it’s a beautiful canvas that came with the body. It came so that nature and its elements could paint its story on you. Skin has a memory. It remembers being enveloped with the spray from a waterfall, the mist on a mountain, the dampness in a jungle, the arid heat of a desert, a clammy touch, a warm hug. It breathes, sweats, lives, dies, changes, and remembers. As far as possible, it must be allowed to do all this in its most natural and free form. If it must be tampered with, it must be done only with a tattoo. Because tattoo is an art form and it takes skill and precision to get it right.

So, sun creases, dehydrates, and wrinkles. And all that makes the skin look pretty…with a soul and character. Flawless skin is lovely, but it is not my idea of beauty. To me, unlined and smooth skins belong to babies. For people who work, live, sweat, and bleed, the skin must record that trajectory.

This is my theory. It is my opinion. I don’t think I’m abnormal for thinking that way. I don’t use creams and lotions and sun-blocks because I genuinely believe that it doesn’t enhance one’s looks or protect the skin. And it definitely does not help one look younger. To look younger, one must learn something new every day, one must play an instrument, sketch a mountain, write a poem, travel, compliment, eat well, be grateful, laugh a lot, sleep well and run in the rain. Skin is, ultimately, a reflection of a soul, and if one wants it to look a particular way, that must be nourished. Massaging glop on the surface area while thinking withering thoughts and smoking does what good to anyone, I will never know.

My arms and feet are scaly and I love that. It reminds me of my first trek in Karjat and my latest trek in Triund. I don’t insist that people think the way I do. I only wish to be left alone. I don’t want to be pointed at and told, “See this! This will go away! It’ll be smooth.” Or, “You are lucky you have good skin, but if you use this, you’ll look better. This is age-defying.”

Why? Why defy age? It is so absurd! To me, holding back age is like holding in urine. It must be let out to be healthy.

Fine, I get that many people don’t share these ideas. As much as I don’t like disagreement, I can make my peace with it. But just as I don’t force people to go out for an afternoon walk with me after lunch (in the sun), I expect the courtesy of not having Elizabeth Arden nourishing therapy or some such pretty but meaningless jar shoved in my hands. And be told, “This will improve you.”

If people don’t want to age, they must just arrange to die young. I’d be happy to help. :-)