A dear lady friend of mine, whom I met over the Internet (not chat, email)and who has not met me in person was curious as to how I looked like.
That’s true. Not many know how I looked like. I have been asked that question before. For example, queries like, “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”
Now how would I describe myself?
I will start with my head. There is a head all right, unless someone angers me indefinitely. I lose if so fast that it bounces of the wall and comes back to me and back to my neck – in tact. Haha.
Excuse my feeble attempt at humour. Firstly, I would say that I am balding – at an exceedingly alarming rate. Secondly, I hate it! But I can’t help it. My dear father is balding. So are my uncles. But then there are so many attractive bald men. For example, there is Sean Connery. And then, err, Sean Connery. Hold a minute, there is someone else. Oh dear! I mean, there’s Connery and then. Faugh!.
It should also come to your attention that I have a very high forehead. Yes, I know. It has come to my knowledge that high foreheads are often attributed to extremely intelligent people like Albert Einstein. I was proud of it, until someone informed me that I have a high forehead because I am balding. Confound it!
Now, comes the favourite part of my body. My eyebrows. Nothing exceptional about them, though. But herein lies the greatest talent I posses – the ability to raise one of them individually. It started when I was trying to imitate Connery doing Bond. And then, it became a habit, and the habit included the dying hair follicles.
My eyes. Ah, there have been many description about them. I personally liked to view them as a pair of eyes belonging to a scientist or a astronomer – keen and intuitive. If, of course, you would excuse for the fact that they are my eyes and were viewed by themselves. How odd. I asked a colleague of mine, “what do you think of my eyes?” This colleague, his colours drained out as if fearing for his dear life, remarked, “Dude, I am straight. Stay away from me.” How odd? He never looked crooked to me, poor chap.
Next, comes my nose. Disregarding the cliché, may I say that I have an aquiline nose? I asked your permission to allow me to say that since till this day I do not have a darn clue what aquiline means.
In all fairness, I should say that I hate my lips. Apart from the fact that they are thick and actually do not qualify the wordy ‘pouty’, they have serve no function accept to open and shut when necessary. Also, the fact that I can’t whistle without missing note annoys me a lot. But then, how much has it contributed to the mankind, with exception of Milli Vanili is beyond me.
My ears used to resemble a car with doors opened on both sides. But as I aged, it ceased to look like that. It now looks like a car with doors open on both sides, when parked in a very tight spot.
I shall go ahead with the rest of my body. I am normally middle-sized. When I am not normal, it stays middle-sized. But suffice to say, my waist size have, thus far, only moved to and fro between 33” and 34”. I am neither hairy nor do I have bare chest. It reminds me of the line Connery utters about bare-chested Japanese men in You Only Live Twice : “Birdsh don’t make nesht on bare Ttttreee”. The scriptwriter must have had too many Sakis when he wrote that line.
My posterior, however, is the greatest disappointment of all. An old friend of mine remarked that it reminded him of “the North-South highway”. God bless him.
I generally have a gait of a bear trying to imitate a panther. It happens when I walk briskly. My love for cat somehow influenced my physical movement. Yes, I can be graceful especially when begging for food.
That’s all you readers will have to know about me. Further information could be found in that SPECIAL book in the police headquarters in Bukit Aman. Right now, I have to dash off as I hear scream suspicious of that of a siren.
I thank you, ladies and gentlemen.
