Tuesday, March 20, 2012

An Old Fashioned Hair Cut


Evening with winds and the smell of rain in the air. Watchful for a snake that might dash across, who lives in the hole over there. Once on the main road, 40 kilo speed. On the road, people going home after work, those going to the shops to buy stuff.. Wonders if my barbarian will be at his post. He was not there yesterday, even though his shop was 'open'. Tried 3 times yesterday.

Reach the place, put the bike on stand. Lots of youngsters sitting in front of the barbershop. Looks like a crowd. There's 2 wheeler workshop just next to the barbershop. Folks waiting for repairs, air etc. My local mechanic and his official and unofficial apprentices busy. There's some kind of a huge flex board in front of both shops. I can't bother to be going around to look at it again.

A fattish guy reluctantly gets up from the crowd and steps forward. My barbarian. After all, things are not bad. He is there and is free at the moment. Crowd not applicable to his line of work for now. I put the footwear outside, go in and sit on The Chair. One wish one had wings, because the place is not very clean inside. I once asked my barber why ask people to keep their footwear outside since its dirtier inside. He mumbled something about the bloody workshop and people bringing the oiled footprints in.

I like my barber not because he is a master of his art. Unlike other barbers, mine doesn't talk a lot. He grunts and mumbles, if customers try to draw him in on chitchat. He has a stereo but doesn't blare it like the new age barbers. When he plays songs, which is very rare, he has a taste in music matching mine. Very very nice.

He wrap the towel around. He takes a bottle of water and spray my head liberally. Sometimes water comes out. Sometimes not. I think its more of a ritual. I don't care either. He gets to work. I lapse in to a reverie. I am aware of him occasionally lining up his sight between my right ear and skull or trying another angle. He looks first at his image and then look mine, in the eye. I register my grave approval in my eyes. I am being turned left, right etc in between..

**reveries**

Sounds have stopped. Now he drop some powder on my head and try to cut it off the tip of hairs. (I have asked him what he would do if the customer is totally gray. I specifically asked if he was going to use charcoal or some black substance for this part. He mumbled some answers and I let it go at that) More finishing touches.....

............

I wake up with a start when he shakes the towel rather explosively, that was wrapped around me. That is my cue to get out of the chair and hand the money. I obliges. I am happy. No one knows if he is happy. He is not one to show emotions. I say something like 'See ya!' on a cheery note. He grunts.

I step outside in a sunny mood. I feel friendly towards the world. My mechanic nods at me and smiles. I return the favor warmly. What ho! While starting the bike, I take my time to read all the flex boards around. The big one has the life size image of a huge elephant. It (board, not the elephant)says welcome to the land of my village for the elephant King. A name was there but I forgot it now. I smile expansively.

I go home. I like the wind tickling my ears now. I see young girls going after classes, all smiling and chattering. I feel kind towards the world. I see a retired school teacher on his evening walk, walking his pot belly. Very pleasant people, these retired school teachers with pot bellies. He is going for his evening gossip as well. While I go home, I passed the pan shop of Thrillon Chettan ( His name is Thrilochanan. Another word for Lord Shiva. Literally meaning the 3 eyed. But locals, especially kids like the shortened form Thrillon Chettan.. Chettan=Elder brother, or showing some affection, respect) Thr.Chn was sitting in his shop, making beedis and chatting with a couple of golden oldies. He has been sitting like that and making beedis all his life. I have seen him doing this for at least 35 years...I pass my childhood friend's granny on the road. She is walking back from the temple. Very old and stooped. Takes her time walking back to her home which is nearby. Another person satisfied with the world, just like me.....

I get home. My niece asks me if I already got my hair cut. I say, yes!! She says I could have got it done better. Now why didn't I tell the barber to fix such and such? Now, that is one thing I don't do often. I let the man go about his barbaric rituals without interference. Still, I take another look in my reflection before proceeding to the shower. Not bad.

That's about as good as it gets.