First Shave, the Sacred Ritual

A boy's first shave...I tell you its a moment and a sacred one for all I can say. It is a moment which a boy waits for ever since he comes to realize that things about him aren't going to be forever the way they are today, as a boy. Forgive the exaggeration but I believe the journey to manhood begins that very moment in a boy's life when he start caressing his cheeks in search of those soft strands of hair which will set him apart from the boys and will become his permit to cross the threshold of manhood.

Some wouldn't wait for it to come to them naturally and would steal their father's or brother's razer to draw it forth and others would yearn, pray , wait for the day of the days when those near invisible strands would turn into something substantial , something worthy of the touch of that mighty and revered tool called The Razor.

Some would go to a barber's and let the barber perform it but the braver ones would settle at nothing less then trying it themselves. It starts with applying a week's worth shaving lather until the whole face except eyes are visible from the coat of the shaving foam. The boy's spirits are lifted like never before by then, he feel exalted and nothing else seem to matter.

Next comes the use of razor which in his mind is nothing less then the sword of a knight, waiting to be handed over for a greater cause. Next comes a series of haphazard strokes through the puddle of foam which would leave him befuddled. It looked so simple he would think. Doesn't matter though, once it is over he wouldn't leave the mirror, his fingers could forever feel his cheeks. Nevertheless, most would still do it twice as they remember their fathers do and couldn't wait for it to appear again.

The first shave which some lesser mortals would never even experience for reasons unknown is indeed a moment to reckon. Lets not talk about the days to come when the ritual becomes an ordeal which has to be performed everyday and if the job demands then twice a day for some. Those days when you left home in a hurry without scraping your cheeks, looking closer to our ancestors , the monkeys. Those days when you cut your cheek and carry the scars for days. Those days when your youth bulges on your face in form of pimples and the bloody razor wouldn walk all over it , leaving the footmarks behind.

That may be the story for some other day but for today lets leave our boy staring at the razor and shaving foam thinking , he would do it everyday even if not required. The boy is the man.