Before I left India I decided to get some much needed trimming done - of the hairy kind. With that in mind I visited a modest establishment in Pune area in the midst of a middle class neighborhood.
As I approached the shop it looked dark. Inside. But it was 3 in the afternoon. So I pushed ahead and knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal a man lying prone on a bench with a kerchief tied around his forehead.
He promptly swung his legs down and indicated he was open for business. Okay then. I figured there would be light. There was not. He chose to operate in some sort of mood lighting that was the waning sun barely making it into the close quarters - inspite of all the reflective surfaces in front.
So what is it going to be was his obvious question. I told him I like it as short as possible with a pair of scissors and comb. I did not see modern electric blades that my American barber would use. He said he was going to start with an electric trimmer so I let him.
Bzzzz Bzzzz he started. I asked that the fan be turned on. It was only 100 degree F in the neighborhood and the AC vents did not seem like they had spewed out any air in a decade. He turned on a slow moving ceiling unit. Bzzz Bzzz as more hair made its way to the ground I started to doze.
Then I heard it. Silence. The buzzing had stopped. Curiously I cracked an eye open to see if he had left me there. Not quite. He was nonchalantly staring at the tool he held half way stuck on the left side of the skull and between a Pan Chew indicated that we had lost power. Power cut.
Power cut in the middle of a hair cut. You cannot make this crap up. It is India.
So now what. I was sporting a unique hair cut at this point so I guess I could have walked around like that or come back for half the service later?
No - he mutely picked up another tool powered by a battery and proceeded to finish my remaining hirsute half. All done he looked admiringly at his artwork and prompted me to comment on his effort.
I looked askance - never a big fan of looking at the back of my own head - to ensure my side burns were not burned beyond recognition. They were not. Then I ran a hand over my stubble and decided to go deluxe - Barber - go ahead and shave me. He did with a one blade razor - it was magnificent.
Total damage $4. Blog worthy material - priceless!
As I approached the shop it looked dark. Inside. But it was 3 in the afternoon. So I pushed ahead and knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal a man lying prone on a bench with a kerchief tied around his forehead.
He promptly swung his legs down and indicated he was open for business. Okay then. I figured there would be light. There was not. He chose to operate in some sort of mood lighting that was the waning sun barely making it into the close quarters - inspite of all the reflective surfaces in front.
So what is it going to be was his obvious question. I told him I like it as short as possible with a pair of scissors and comb. I did not see modern electric blades that my American barber would use. He said he was going to start with an electric trimmer so I let him.
Bzzzz Bzzzz he started. I asked that the fan be turned on. It was only 100 degree F in the neighborhood and the AC vents did not seem like they had spewed out any air in a decade. He turned on a slow moving ceiling unit. Bzzz Bzzz as more hair made its way to the ground I started to doze.
Then I heard it. Silence. The buzzing had stopped. Curiously I cracked an eye open to see if he had left me there. Not quite. He was nonchalantly staring at the tool he held half way stuck on the left side of the skull and between a Pan Chew indicated that we had lost power. Power cut.
Power cut in the middle of a hair cut. You cannot make this crap up. It is India.
So now what. I was sporting a unique hair cut at this point so I guess I could have walked around like that or come back for half the service later?
No - he mutely picked up another tool powered by a battery and proceeded to finish my remaining hirsute half. All done he looked admiringly at his artwork and prompted me to comment on his effort.
I looked askance - never a big fan of looking at the back of my own head - to ensure my side burns were not burned beyond recognition. They were not. Then I ran a hand over my stubble and decided to go deluxe - Barber - go ahead and shave me. He did with a one blade razor - it was magnificent.
Total damage $4. Blog worthy material - priceless!
hir-sute yourself should be the motto.
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