What rapid developments there have been since the days of the summer cut, the only hairstyle that was known to most of us men! The simple, once-in-a-quarter, chore has today become complicated and expensive.
I sensed the change even in 1990 when I went to work in Lusaka, Zambia. First of all, I had to fix up an appointment — yes, to cut my hair! My friend took me to a shop and I re-checked with him if we were at the right place, before stepping in. Because, in sharp contrast to what I had seen in India, there was not a single hair on the floor, no posters, and no smell of soap and talcum powder. A gentle-looking lady received and guided me to a chair. The chairs were placed with sufficient space in between, and I did not have to wrestle my way up to it. My friend explained that they were unisex saloons, catering to men and women: no gender bias. The same lady tilted the chair and my head gently backwards and gave my hair a shampoo wash and dried it. She then got immersed in her work and my mind recalled my childhood hair-cutting experiences in India.
It was not as straightforward as one would imagine. Everyone in the family would take a critical look at my hair growth and voice an opinion. There was never a consensus as to whether it was ready for the harvest. But that did not matter, because my father had the final say.
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Until I reached college, he always accompanied me: I never understood why.
A little while later, a man clad in a perfect white dhoti and shirt would arrive, tap a chair and rotate it a few times and then look at me, without uttering a word. I would walk up to him like a lamb to the slaughter machine.
Soon he would be on the job. He would press and rotate my head every now and then, as if it is fixed on a swivel. On completion, the satisfaction on his face could only match that of a drought-hit farmer seeing a bumper harvest!
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“You are done and you look smart,” said the lady in Lusaka, which brought me back from my reverie. Whether in Lusaka or Chennai, the end result was the same — the perfect summer cut.
umamani@hotmail.com