The Story of Ahma
Once, there was a man. A bearded one. He roamed in the wilderness of Lapland. Slowly his fingers ran through his shaggy beard, like an over sized meaty comb. Hairs, dry as the desert, started falling out of it, and they were carried away by the calm but breezy northern wind. As the battered, timeworn hairs were rising up into the sky looking for a better life, an idea was starting to grow its roots. Burying through the mans bald scalp, digging their way in deeper and deeper. Was there more to this bearded life? Would it be possible to get rid of the shagginess, dryness and messiness of the hair? Could there be an answer to this question, lying somewhere near, but yet unseen?
A hawk was slowly soaring through the clear blue sky. As its screech echoed in the trees the answer materialized in front of the man. From the northern wilderness it was born, the Idea. The Idea about grooming the mans beard. He would not only survive in this world as a bearded man, but his beard would thrive. He wanted to create something that would absorb the magnificent properties of the nature and this way transfer the great power into his own beard. It could be done. The mankind had been to the moon, so why would it not be possible to have a thriving beard?
Then the bearded man started to question if it would be fair to the world. Would it be right to let others live as he used to live: In a nightmare of untamed and shaggy beards. He decided that he could not allow it to happen, not to his fellow men. The man sat down into the moss-covered forest floor. He slowly closed his eyes and pondered. For days, without any food, water or beer. The flying devils of the Finnish Lapland, damned mosquitoes, tried to deviate him from his thoughts. But not them, the darkness, the rain nor the cold, could prevent the idea from sprouting. For all the hair in the world to thrive, he had to roam into the entrepreneur business and to conquer it for the sake his fellow men. He rose slowly up from the forest floor, droplets of water dripping down from his beard. Then the he ran. Like a wolverine chasing after its prey in the morning dawn. As a self-reliant man, without hesitation, he knew what to do.
Tame the Hair, not the Beast.