Was in a relay mail chat with this feral gang of mine and one of them wrote a mail predicitng my future problems because of my pony tail. Here it goes have a look at it. Freddy wrote that for me by the way.

Travails of a mono-pony
I am a victim of stereotyping. Having a pony (the one with lots of hair in it) automatically typecasts me as: a) Rock addict b) Show-off c) A show-off who is also a rock addict.
Some people with more imagination and vocabulary have labelled me "Casanova", "Rocker" and "Rebel" . I won't be surprised next if frail old women stop on streets to hit me with their walking stick calling me the devil. Or young women ignoring me, thinking me aws one of their tribe. Normally, I would ignore such stereotyping. But when a fat urchin recently pointed his finger at some DAME and chanted "HRH" in chaste English, it was time to stop and introspect whether I had been breast-fed enough. Not before disembowelling him and taking him out of his misery.
The same fate is reserved for: * Street urchins who try to sell me gajras at traffic signals. * Kids who go to their moms and ask "Why Aunty has beard?" * Romeos who whistle at my back before over taking me.
One day in SNR, I was sleeping under a coconut tree and people thought I am starting a 1000 year penance. I don't know if that was worse, or he fact that when I came about, the same people asked me for belssings. The idea of a man with long hair performing normal bodily functions such as sleeping, was preposterous. And these happen to be people of the same generation who readily believe in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
However, this was hardly annoying compared to those who have the obsessive-compulsive desire to tug my pony in passing causing my head to jerk and guarantee Carpal Tunnel Syndrome before I know what it means. These people should not be allowed to breed.
My pony is not a fashion statement. Neither am I protesting anything. And NO, you cannot touch to see if it real. It is an extension of my personality... my power source. I have not named it yet, but I must confess, every time I open my ponytail, I have to cry: "By the power of Grayskull... He Man - The Master of the Universe".
It has helped me break ice with strangers and has been the source of endless entertainment to many. It crosses age, race, culture, creed and classes of local train compartments.
For example, the time when I had approached a few village women for drinking water as they washed clothes near a river. Even before I opened my mouth, the village women had started giggling unabashedly. This is what lack of satellite television does to you. In the end, I not only managed to get water but also their only village phone number.
Another time when I was wearing my khaki trousers with matching bag and shirt and some jerk on the road asked me whether I was the postman! Not realising I was armed with a 152mm Pony Tail and was not afraid to use it. I turned my head, and in one swift flick, opened my pony, chanting my power line - "By the power of Grayskull... He Man - The Master of the Universe". Next, he was seen lying on my feet begging for mercy. I only spared him because he convinced me that he has a blind mother and two unmarried sisters... who have a thing for guys with ponytails.
No one wants to mess with a pony-tailed man in the crowded Chennai buses. My fellow passengers can be seen in positions such as The Crouching Tiger and The Hidden Dragon... while I, on the other hand, am left alone, as if I am carrying a fish basket on my head dripping of stinky sweat.
"It is time for Moahan to settle down", says my mom. A thought that sends shudders down my pony. 'Coz I know no father in his right mind will give away his daughter to a man with a ponytail. And to suggest cutting it is akin to suggesting a . It is against my religion.
Like Martin Luther King, I have a dream. I dream of the day when men will not be judged by their ponytails. Behind every successful man will be a successful pony. (Clap now)
Pony-tailed guys will be perceived as normal blokes capable of normal emotions and commitment. (Standing ovation now)
Ponies would symbolise a man capable of cooking, cleaning and after-sex conversation. Someone who can change baby nappies and you can proudly take home to daddy. (Women throw underwear now)
Whatever the case, the pony is here to stay. Like He Man.