As a child in my village school, my teacher advised my mother to send me to a good English school in the nearby town because I excelled in academics. Motivated by his words, my mother envisioned a future where I would study medicine, as there was no doctor in our village, and people had to travel more than 20 miles for medical care. Following her vision, I put my heart and soul into my studies. Soon, I became very popular in my new school because I was always first in my class, excelled in almost all extracurricular activities, and was considered "cute to look at" (or so everyone said).

After scoring top grades in the 10th standard exams, I went to Chandigarh, the capital city of North India, to prepare for the medical entrance exam. The next two years were defining for me as I studied day and night. Finally, my hard work and my mother’s prayers paid off; I was accepted for admission to the medical college in Amritsar in 1974 – the first turning point of my life.

The Acting Bug and the Allure of Fame

During my medical studies, I participated in numerous cultural activities and took part in many plays, debates, and other literary programs, but I truly excelled in theatrics. Having won several prizes for my acting prowess, I began to dream of becoming a movie star. I started imitating actors, which soon transformed my persona. I styled my hair differently, wore flashy clothes, and behaved as I imagined a model would.

After completing my medical studies, I realized I had two options: fulfill my mother’s dream by returning to the village to serve the people or pursue my own dream by moving to Mumbai to join a top hospital and become a famous doctor. In the back of my mind, there was also the faint hope of becoming a model or film star, the seemingly quickest and easiest path to fame and fortune.

After much deliberation, I decided to join Jaslok Hospital in Mumbai, one of the top hospitals in the country, where I started working as a full-time resident physician. Although I settled into the hospital routine, the “acting bug” continued to bite. Despite my demanding job, I sneaked out to watch film shoots and even submitted my photographs to several advertising agencies, hoping to launch a modeling career. However, I felt guilty for neglecting my hospital duties and soon realized that a medical career and modeling could not coexist. After much soul-searching, I decided to abandon the idea of a glamorous career and focus genuinely on medicine...and that was the end of my “star in the making” – ha ha ha!

The Hairy Struggle Begins

Nevertheless, whether in the world of glamour or medicine, my burning ambition was to become rich and famous. Making money through a medical career was not easy, as it would take years of experience and hard work to become a well-known and reputable doctor. This mental struggle, combined with a lot of stress, led to massive hair loss. It seemed that every time I brushed my hair, another clump would fall out. When a nurse pointed out that I was going bald, I grew increasingly worried. My anxiety escalated as I tried numerous treatments, creams, lotions, and even intradermal injections, all to no avail.

As my bald patch grew larger, so did my nervousness. More and more people began to notice, and I started having nightmares. I thought, “Oh, my God, no girl will ever marry me, and I will have to remain single and alone for the rest of my bald life!” This self-consciousness and fear compounded my worries and led to further hair loss. Thankfully, all was not lost – in 1986, I met Madhuri, who thought I looked great! We fell in love and got married, thus laying one of my biggest fears to rest.

Although marriage did wonders for me, my hairline continued to recede as my worries increased. In 1993, I started editing a health magazine, which led to a rapid rise in my stress levels and even greater hair loss. Finally, I resigned myself to the fact that nothing could be done and attributed my hairy woes to my unfortunate genetic history of baldness.

I stopped obsessing in front of the mirror, put my hairbrush down, and began to refocus on my career and ambitions. My health magazine was becoming popular, and my medical practice was also flourishing. I introduced a new concept in Mumbai: mobile healthcare, which involved making home visits to care for the elderly who couldn't frequently visit doctors. On one hand, I made good money, but the stress was significant, and I kept losing more hair.

Artificial Hair and the Battle of Appearances

Then came another defining moment in my life: I started the Laughter Clubs in 1995. This ingenious idea spread like wildfire around the world and catapulted me to fame, though not to riches, as these clubs were entirely free for participants. I became fully engrossed in spreading the mission of laughter and stopped worrying about my looks. One day, Madhuri commented that with my significant hair loss, I appeared much older. I just laughed and said that my real beauty was in my work, not in my looks; however, deep down, I knew I wasn't being truthful. Subconsciously, I still believed I needed hair to look and feel good. It was then that I came across an advertisement from a new hair clinic offering a variety of hair treatments, including hair weaving and bonding techniques. This sounded great, and I decided to give it a try.

There was a battle going on in my mind. One part of me thought, “Get real, why would you do that? Why can't you be who you are?” But the other part of me said, “What the heck? Why not give it a try?” My risk-taking approach kicked in, and I decided to try artificial hair. Madhuri was delighted!
Wow! I looked great with my new hairpiece, which I thought looked quite natural. In fact, people who didn't know me had no idea. My friends and relatives were pleasantly surprised by my new look and said I looked much younger, which made me feel on top of the world. Sadly, the newfound happiness had its fair share of trouble. First, there was the hassle of putting the toupee on and off, which took a lot of time. Secondly, I became so used to my artificial hair that I felt extremely uncomfortable without it. I became totally stressed about the possibility of someone dropping in and seeing me hairless.

Then came the challenges: if I traveled by car on windy days, I had to be careful not to put the windows down because it would mess up my “hair.” I couldn't ride a motorbike or swim with my hairpiece on. All this made me self-conscious, and I was worried stiff about presenting my balding head to others and revealing my true reality. It was a big dilemma – to wear my artificial hair or not. Many times I felt like throwing it away because it caused a lot of stress and provided little gain. Then one day, as I was meditating, an inner voice told me to stop with the charade and get real. I listened and decided right then and there that I had had enough of pretense and pretending – the hairpiece had to go!

Embracing Baldness: The Journey to Self-Acceptance

From then on, during workshops and seminars, I started talking openly about my artificial hair and often I would take it off and fling it across the room, making everybody laugh. When I removed that “mask,” I felt lighter and happier than ever before. So, I decided to completely shave my head, but Madhuri fiercely opposed the idea. When she went on holiday to Goa for a week in July 2007, I took the opportunity to visit the barber and remove the sham – off with my hair! At long last, I got rid of a pretense I had held onto for years. With the “mask” discarded, I basked in the light of truth and honesty – my “holiday” and newfound freedom had begun!

What I learned from my hairy tale was that although my artificial hair may have looked better than a few straggles of hair on an almost bald head, it did nothing to make me feel good. I had fallen into a world of make-believe, creating an internal conflict. How could I laugh and be completely natural when I was struggling to find my true identity? Pretending to be something I was not and maintaining a facade took a lot of energy. It kept me from being the real me and from laughing freely and fully.

Everybody welcomed my decision; in fact, many of my students in the West told me I looked great without hair. They were not concerned about my appearance, as they perceived me as an enlightened person who transcends the outward appearance of the physical body.

So here I am, “The Bald and Beautiful,” ha ha ha!