Why Indians are hairy.

South Indians, anyway.

I'll tell you why, shall I?

Mosquitoes.

Those goddamned bloodsucking scumbags.

The south of India is a land of heat, humidity, and stagnating water. Perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes. Back before quinine and medicine and all that, I'm betting that malaria claimed a lot of lives, yeah?

What was our best natural defence against malaria?

Body hair.

That's right. Thick carpets of hair covering our bodies made it harder for those little disease carrying bitches to stick their suckers into our tender flesh.

Now, for some reason, my dad is hairy, and my mother is hairless, although they are both from south India. When I was little, my mother contracted a terrible case of malaria, and I'm sure she would've died of it had she been born in an age before medicine. Her hairlessness left her defenceless and vulnerable to the flying little demons, whereas my dad waltzed around, protected by his forest of hair.

Now, everytime I partake of a little hair-removal, I immediately feel exposed and naked, my eyes darting around, waiting for those winged devils to swarm.

My body hair makes me a survivor. I hate you all for making me feel as though I must strip myself of my natural protection against diseased critters.