Over the course of a lifetime, from the innocence of
childhood to the seasoned calm of the seventies, faces change, memories fade,
and old acquaintances often drift into the fog of time. It’s natural. Most
people, after long gaps, struggle to recognise familiar faces from the past.
Names slip away, relationships grow distant, and time does its quiet work.
Yet, I have experienced something rather curious, something
I’ve come to see as a quiet marvel. Despite the years gone by, people from
different stages of my life often recognise me, not just by face, but by name
and connection. This article is a reflection on that wonder, and perhaps the
reason behind it, a reason etched, quite literally, onto my forehead.
I carry a prominent crescent-shaped birthmark (5 cm long) on
my forehead, curved like a sliver of moonlight in a clear night sky. It has
been with me since birth, an ever-present symbol, a quiet but visible part of
who I am. Unlike marks that remain hidden, facial birthmarks are part of the
immediate impression we give the world. They become intertwined with how we are
remembered. And in my case, this distinct crescent has followed me through time
as an ageless identifier.
Over the years, this mark has become more than a quirk of
nature. It has become a companion, one that sparks curiosity, invites
conversation, and connects me to stories far older than my own. People often
stop and ask about it, especially when meeting me for the first time. Their
interest opens the door to discussions on identity, belief, and the strange,
beautiful ways in which the universe touches each of us.
While I don’t believe it holds any magical powers, I do find
meaning in the symbolism it carries. In many cultures, and particularly in
ancient Hindu lore, birthmarks are considered more than skin-deep. They are
seen as divine imprints, fingerprints of fate. And when such a mark takes the
shape of a crescent moon, it becomes something more: a talisman, a cosmic
emblem.
In Hindu mythology, the crescent moon rests in the matted
locks of Lord Shiva himself. It symbolises the cycle of time, the rhythm of
creation, and the calming, eternal presence of the Mahadeva. I still remember
how elders, upon noticing my birthmark, would pause thoughtfully and say with
reverence, “That’s the mark of Shiva’s gaze. He’s watching over you.”
Whether that’s true or not, I hold the sentiment close. It
brings comfort, a sense of connection to something vast and timeless. Perhaps
it is this mark, this symbol of memory and divinity, that helps people remember
me even after decades have passed.
So, here I am in my seventies, still greeted with
familiarity, still called by name, and still carrying the crescent moon on my
brow, my lifelong companion and silent storyteller.
🙏 Thank you, Lord Shiva, for your watchful gaze and for
continuing to bless my family and me.
