Occupation: Hairdresser
I came to Bengaluru almost 27 years ago in search of work, from my hometown in Sira Taluk in Tumkur district. I’ve studied up to class Eight. After that we couldn’t afford my education. My uncle brought me to Bengaluru, seeing the poverty at home. Till then I used to work in a puffed rice (kadle puri) factory. He used to have a salon called Goldwin Hairdressers in Cottonpet, and I learnt on the job with him, at his salon, where I worked for 15 years.
I come from a community of barbers; my father and grandfather were also barbers back in their hometown. In the village they would be paid in kind — with agricultural produce!
I’m 41 years old now and have been working at Invogue Unisex Salon in Malleswaram.
After moving out of my uncle’s salon, I started my own, but I had no financial support and my business went into a loss. For a year I was jobless and stayed with friends. Then I worked six years in a salon in Kumara Park.
Hairstyling has changed so much over the years. Earlier there were only two things both customers and we knew — cutting and shaving. Now we have the advantage of being trained in academies, and working for big companies and owning franchises. Colouring hair and styling hair are big things now. Earlier work hours were long — 5 a.m. to 10 p.m. Now we all strictly work in eight-hour shifts. But then you are expected to reach business targets.
Even now, the pay is not great. But if you are talented, you get paid well. Now we have a steady income, a monthly salary; earlier we would get paid by the day on a 40:60 ratio — the hairstylist would get 40 per cent and salon owner 60 per cent; it would encourage many in the community to turn to drinking.
Business has picked up now, after most salons have been converted into unisex salons. If you have experience, like I do, you can easily look after your family. I have two boys — in class 3, and class 7.
Our community is now organised into the Savitha Samaja; otherwise people refer to us in a very degrading manner as “Hajaam”. All politicians and governments exploit our community for votes, but no one has done anything for our wellbeing.
Even now, in villages and smaller towns, we are looked down upon, not allowed into temples, and upper caste people believe they shouldn’t see our face first thing in the morning. We’ve still not gained respect outside urban areas.
But here in cities we have respect and our work is valued. Ours is a service-driven industry and we have to have a good relationship with the customer. Earlier, even equipment was basic; I’ve started work, shaving hair with a knife, then moved to iron scissors, and now we have come to the point where all our equipment is sterilised and hygiene is given great importance.
I Am is a column that profiles men and women who make Bengaluru what it is
