Sunday 25 February 2007

Virtues of having less hair

For whatever little is left on my head, I go to an Indian barber (from Kerala), to do the monthly honors. What he cuts and dresses always eludes me, but what never escapes my attention is that he forces all of us to watch Chinese channels. A Malayalam barber who watches Chinese channels, replete with uniformed comrades exhorting the teachings of Chairman Mao.

How I get to know such people is a matter of detail. What is important is that there are people who excel in the weird and the strange, and I feel quite connected.

The din around his shop is just about enough not to let you hear yourself thinking. May be that is a good idea – you don’t want to be thinking too much when he gets to work. One, he does not speak much and does not seem to like people who do so. Second, whatever you tell him, he will take his own decisions. A man in control. Third, I don’t want to argue with a man holding a razor blade next to my ear. I just sit there like a good boy, and let him mow the defunct plains of my head.

I usually have to wait for a good hour to get my turn. In the process, I have become a bit of communist myself, exposed to the channels he watches. The other day, when India was ripping the shreds off the Sri Lankan team, I was watching a highly informative program on how to grow potatoes. It was followed by an infomercial on road safety, which began with a somber looking uniform clad Chinese woman showing us the remnants of a car that looked like it was hit by an asteroid. The infomercial ended with teachings of Chairman Mao – chapter and verse. Apparently he had devoted a lot of his time on road safety, while also managing a revolution in his past time.

What I watch in that saloon is tactical brilliance of watching TV, bereft of any strategic aim – much like the Indian soap operas. For the first 130 or so episodes, they veer of in all conceivable directions, and then in the last two the scriptwriter wakes up, breaks a pen or two in hastily writing a highly unconnected end, which is more often than not suited more for another serial on another channel. Tactically, these soaps help in supporting the Glycerine industry (and Foundation/Maskara business) but strategically they make as much sense as lighting a fire for warmth in the middle of desert at noon time. My TV has gone for repairs three times already because of the moisture produced in these serials.

This time when I came home after the hair cut, one side of my head felt heavy. As I discovered, our man had completely forgotten to do the honors of cutting hair on the left side. I don’t blame him, if my memory serves me right, there was a highly illuminating program on painting light bulbs (red, of course) and turning them into nice little show pieces, that our man could not afford to miss. The TV is placed such that our man has to stand on the right side of any customer to be able to take in all the wisdom emanating from the TV. Hence the heaviness in my head. Next time I plan to go to him after referring to the TV schedule. He does not seem to like chorus songs dedicated to industrial revolution - I better time my hair cut when those are getting aired.

For a curios soul, wondering why I subject myself to such gamble, I have just few humble submissions to make. One, it gives me a hearty laugh to walk out with one side of my head fluffy and the other flat. Second, for the Love of God, I don’t know why he watches that channel. I would like to sit with him one day and understand his reasons. Third, I find it too interesting and curious to see what will he be watching when I go to him next.
And finally, I don’t have much to loose. See my picture, and you will understand why. Not a high price to pay for an interesting hour or two!

1 comment: