Haircuts

A haircut for the young venture capitalist might mean cutting losses by taking a hit on returns on investments. For me it is a trip to ‘Lucky haircutting salon’ in Sadiq Nagar near HUDCO place in Delhi where I used to live. I cross the huge garbage den outside the relatively clean government colony. Stray dogs abound in the route. In the market half the road space is occupied by flower and fruit sellers, chat stalls etc. Loud Hindi film music blares from several shops. Sweet shops, dry cleaners, pharmacies, stationery stores have all encroached into the road and there is very little space to maneuver. Cars and bikes zig zag to avoid collision with humans and cattle that throng the road. A walk to this market means persuading Chathu over several days to agree to come with me for the ritual trip to the barber every month. It is more important to him than it is to me. With my bald pate, I can go for a few months without a haircut. Hardly anyone would notice the difference.
In the salon, there is loud music from the FM radio interspersed with the DJ speaking in that affected tone of Delhi's youth alternately in Hinglish or Hindi. Or there is Salman Khan’s movie with soppy emotional dialogues and loud threats at the unjust, fuedal Thakur emanating from the small portable TV in the corner. I would often fear for our safety when the knife or the scissors brush one’s head when the movie is poised at cliffhanger moments. But no, these guys are professionals. They have seen these movies a hundred times before. There are newspapers in Hindi and Urdu lying on the bench. In summers, the desert cooler offers little comfort. There would also be deep, involved discussions among the barbers on the politics of the state of Bihar where they hail from. And I suspect their strong sympathies lie with a none-too polished but charismatic leader from there. Haircutting charges are Rs 15 per head. I pay them Rs 50 for two haircuts, which includes a Rs 20 tip. So the guys at Lucky are mighty pleased when father and son walk in. A comb is run vigorously through wet hair and the scissors go snip snip, and it takes about seven minutes to complete the cutting, shaping and to throw in a vigorous head massage. (I always refuse that offer. They are earnestly happy to do it for with generous tippers) Chathu is embarrassed by these visits because his friends frequent swankier joints in upmarket localities, where the hair is coloured, blow dried and funky cuts on the scalps are made. Before we set out I make promises to Chathu that I shall instruct the Barber to keep his hair long. But a silent code passes between me and the Barbers. A wink and I tell them to keep his hair long while I make a small gesture with my finger to instruct them keep it short. Chathu had caught on to this mischief very recently and watches me carefully as I pass instructions.
I still recollect Chathu’s first haircut. He was all of four years old. We took him to a shop in Nungambakkam High Road in Chennai called “Three coins”. He was cajoled to sit on a wooden platform on the chair and the haircut began. There followed a loud twenty minute session of shrieking and bawling by Chathu. I suspect that drove a lot of customers of the day away. The second haircut wasn’t as bad and slowly he became friendly with all the Barbers. But a trip for haircut would cost me an additional customary visit to the shop next door for two chocolates, two pastries and some small toy which are all part of the haircutting experience package. As he grew older he stopped linking a trip for haircut to blackmailing me into buying him stuff.
We went for a haircut to nearby Evatt market in Canberra last month. Chathu had started resembling a vampire since he has not had a haircut for three months since landing in Australia. A girl at the hairdressers’ asked us whether we have an appointment. I said no. Can we wait? I asked. She went in, checked and said it might take another 45 minutes. Well can I get an appointment for tomorrow? I asked. OK, She said. We took an appointment for the next day morning and left.
We went next day. We were expected. The girl who started with Chathu’s hair looked much younger to him. But she had this rather funny way of lifting a few hairs at a time with her fingers and cutting. It was taking a hell of a long time. I had this vague feeling that the girl might be a student of 5th standard studying in Chathu’s school. I decided to forego my haircut. There is very little to cut anyway. The bill was 20 dollars- a concessionary rate for children. I suppose it is double for adults. Translated it into Indian currency (multiply by 34), it sounded an obscene amount for something as simple as a haircut- especially for a regular Lucky customer back home in Delhi.
So I went and bought a clipper. It is something like an instrument to shear wool off sheep or to cut pet hair. Shearing, as you know is big business in a wool producing country like Australia. The clipper maintains a standard length of 2 to 4mm of hair throughout one’s pate. It cost me little and I run it through my hair once in twenty days. Chathu refuses to subject himself to this home remedy. I have been receiving broad hints regarding my unmistakable resemblance to villains of Hindi movies who made a career out of raping women and getting beaten up by chocolate heroes- Or a cross between an Euro footballer and an ex-convict. ….No problems: No way I am paying 40$ for a haircut.
I did a little back-of-the-envelope calculations on a haircutting career in Canberra based on number of customers per day, average revenue per customer, rent, power etc. My findings are interesting. Ambittans (Slang for barber in Malayalam) in Australia have it better than Babus in India. So all ye career aspirants who are slogging to join the Civil Services in India…. Drop those huge tomes of academic stuff and stop worrying about rubbing shoulders with politicians and over the ground criminals. Ye shall take the knife and scissors, polish your skills and head to this beautiful land where you can live a life of quality. This is one skill that is in short supply here and your permanent resident status might come faster than expected.