Grooming

What skill would you like to learn?

I would like to groom myself better, especially when I think about the contrast between my father and my mother.

My father now lies on his bed, motionless, still hanging on to life. But my memories of him go back to when I was a child following him to work. I always wondered why he insisted on buying a newspaper to bring to the office when he could just read it at home.

One day I followed him down to the ground floor, where workers were filling the printing machines with colored inks. Two of them carefully arranged alphabets into words, and I was fascinated. I wanted to try it myself, but my father stopped me, saying, “This is not a plaything. This is work.”

I watched as the workers climbed a small bridge above the machine, checking whether the papers were printing properly, the fresh ink sticking to the sheets. I was amazed to see blank papers transformed into readable newspapers. My father simply guided his team on how to manage the process, then went back to his office to read his own copy. That was the mystery solved—why he always carried the newspaper with him.

But when it came to grooming, he never had confidence. His color choices in clothes were dull, and his socks, tie, trousers, and shirts rarely matched. As a department head, his staff giggled quietly at his appearance. He knew how to teach his team about work and discipline, but he never reflected that same confidence in how he carried himself. He slouched when he sat, and over the years that posture shaped him—literally—into a hunched old man.

I thought copying his grooming habits would lead me to success, but it didn’t. My clothing was neat, but my sense of style lacked spark. Thankfully, I had my mother as another example. Unlike my father, she always dressed with a sense of grace—matching handbags, shoes, dresses, and red lipstick that tied it all together. Even a simple visit to the hair salon could transform her look.

Sometimes I feel the same with my own hair. One visit to the salon and I can go from a Lionel Richie wave to a Barbra Streisand bob, though within a month it falls back into a Lassie-like mess. Still, when I think of grooming, I know my mother is the example to follow. Even at 83, she remains prim and proper, admired by others. She worked until she was 80, and even now her old bosses still call, asking her to return.

My father, on the other hand, is now a forgotten man, shambling quietly in a home. His skills once built teams, but his presence left no lasting glow.

That is why the skill I would like to learn is not just grooming in appearance, but grooming in confidence—the ability to present myself well, to walk tall, and to let my outer self reflect the strength I build within.