Oh! For a Corona Cut!

There are innumerable problems faced by the public during the lockdown. The inability to have an evening tipple tops the list. I won't tell, but some have revived the age-old, fine art of wine making and some others have revived the age-old, rustic art of home brewing. Good for them.

Mine is a different problem. This problem is not an everyday affair, and so no one has given it a thought, I am afraid. I mean, it is nowhere in the list. Because no one could envisage the difficulty that a minuscule of people like me would face. It crops up once in about 21 days.

Those 21 days are over, and now the lockdown is on for another almost 21 days. How can I hang on? In an earlier blog of mine, I had mentioned how the disciplined father of mine used to take me for a crew cut every three weeks. That stood me in good stead in the Army. But the problem is that I could never afford the style of a long mane, even after retirement. I get a sneeze, cold, stuffed nose, sore throat and fever in that ascending order if I don't get the hair cut in time. When the sneezing starts, I run to the salon. But salons are closed now, what with the infamous Corona, and I worry. Just like the tipplers who worry for their closed saloons. Maybe more.

I have a friend one Col Chakravarthy, a Tamilian, lest you take him to be a Bengali. He once said that barbers pay him 50 bucks to go to some other barbershop for the cut. Instead of wasting time looking for hair on his pate, they would rather pay him to go elsewhere! So much for his crowning glory.

The term salon makes you think of a parlour. Only people like me go to a barbershop. Others go to the parlour, even “beauty” parlour—the proud metrosexuals. 

Let’s look at a parlour.

Ø There are no barbers there, only hairstylists.

Ø You relax there, totally—body, mind and spirit. You surrender to his powers, as you do with the yogic ones.

Ø Having made you sit on the throne; he takes out an apron and with a flourish wraps you in it. He makes you feel as if it is a fresh one, which it never is.

Ø The instruments are used on everybody and never sanitised. There are techniques to make you feel otherwise, though.

Ø The fellow goes snip-snip very carefully, taking his own time, inspecting his handy work every now and then, with long breaths, moving to a distance. Like a painter assessing the development of his work of art.

Ø And then some, in fact, many of the young, can get their hair coloured ridiculously, putting rainbows to shame, along with some pathways cut.

Ø The grey-haired one can get it blackened, hoping that it would make him look young. He doesn’t realise that salt-and-pepper has a singular dignity, and totally grey is remarkable. He also forgets his jowls, a dead giveaway.

Ø The bearded ones, which most are nowadays, the why of it beats me, get the trimming done in a particular manner, which I am positive is done with templates.

Ø Then there are facials, during the process of which you look like a monkey, for an onlooker. Or a ghost from one of those horror movies of olden times.

Ø For the lazy dandy ones, there is manicure and pedicure and what not.

Ø On your exit, you appear well-groomed, externally, that is.

What about the advantages of a barbershop? He just cuts your hair. Thank you. On exit, you simply look as if you had your hair cut.

I will not venture into the activities of ladies inside the parlour, for I do not have the foggiest idea.

Now with the newfound work-from-home syndrome, many are stuck, irrespective of the gender. The male celebs have their celeb consorts showing off their scissor and comb handiwork on social media. Then some quietly run the trimmer themselves, hoping for the best. I don't fall in either category.

My worry is, if the inevitable cold catches me due to the closure of barbershops, consequences can be serious. For then, I had it. I would figure in the statistics of my city, not a nice thing under the circumstances.

This is one aspect the authorities haven’t thought through mainly because they would not have heard of anyone falling sick due to a delayed hair cut! If I drive around the city looking for a barber, it will be impossible to convince the cop about the utter necessity.

So, maybe I will hope for the best with my trimmer when I begin to sneeze. In any case, I don’t work; not from the office, not from home. So what, if the back of my head looked as if the rats, if not bats, were at it! But before I take the extreme step, I hope the barbershops are allowed to open. They can keep the parlours closed for all I care. Given the scenario, the proximity of the barber/hairstylist to you, which can never be at one-meter distance, and the sanitisation aspect of the instruments, do you think there is a possibility? One sneeze by either him or me for any reason, as silly as one of the hair strands going into the nose, could lead to a catastrophe. So I will hang on, till the first warning sneeze, I suppose.