Though humans have always had a strange fascination for hair (You can read about my earlier article about this here), the Armed Forces care little for vanity. Consequently, having joined the Navy 35 years ago, I must confess that ‘salons’ were uncharted terrritories things for me. Haircuts in the Armed Forces primarily involve sitting in the chair at the barber shop and surrendering to the butcher. You give him no instructions, he asks you no questions. He picks up the machine/scissors, and after a quick swipe by the machine at the rear of the coconut, similar swipes above the ears and a few snips of the scissors on the top, out of the shop you are in a few minutes, after having paid the stipulated Rs 60.
Now that I am retired, The Wife suggested “why not go to a salon?” Now this was a novel idea for me but then those of you who know me, will also know that, if nothing else, I’m adventurous. So, I thought to myself, “why not?” A quick confabulation with Google Maps yielded a salon quite close to my house and off I was, feeling just as Columbus would have presumably felt as he set sail in the Santa Maria; Nina and Pinta in tow.
I reached the salon to be confronted by a rather elegant but intimidating lady who asked me solicitously, “how can I help you, Sir?” A haircut is what I wanted and therefore ‘a haircut’ is what I said in my succinct style. She however, was having none of it and it was evident that she intended to get to know me better. “What kind of haircut?” was her next query. This bamboozled me considerably. Sensing my ‘bamboozlement’ she explained that they had the Silver, Gold and Diamond packages. Recollecting that The Wife finds diamonds considerably more attractive than gold or silver, I asked for the Diamond package. She spruced up visibly and added, almost fawningly, “Excellent choice.” She also deduced from my general countenance that this was my first visit and therefore, much to my delight, added a 25% discount. My delight however, was momentary. Momentary because she added that the total amount would be ONLY Rs 2200/- post discount. I was undelighted. I sought the cost of the Silver package and she told me (the fawning level dropping considerably, and the sneering level rising in proportion) that that would be Rs 1600/-. So, silver it was for me.
An imperious wave of her hand fetched my ‘hair stylist’ (no they are not called barbers or ‘nais’ at salons), a youth who guided me to a chair. The haircut itself was a pleasant affair once I was able to convince him that all that I needed was a haircut (and that took some convincing because he was not thrilled with my current style, because apparently, it did not flatter my face. He was displeased with the hair texture too). He fussed over me for about 45 minutes on completion of which, he looked admiringly at my nut and asked me if it was okay. I found little difference in my appearance pre and post haircut, but not wanting to disappoint him, I nodded. On my nod, he guided me to another chair for a shampoo. Now this was a novelty for me. (Generally, till that day, my post haircut routine consisted of reaching home for a bath.) Having told me that the shampoo would cost Rs 700/- (daylight robbery) he proceeded to fuss some more on the ‘hotness’ of the water and 10 minutes later, there I was, looking (in his eyes) as dapper as Dev Anand.
Now if the elegant but intimidating lady was a good salesperson, her underling, was equally well trained, like Income Tax guys, at fleecing. “I see that your face is a bit oily and your nose a bit grimy. How about a facial?” Now I in my mind, have a perfectly sculpted face, but feeling that a less oily and grimy face can only be a good thing, I thought to myself, “what the heck, I am sure he knows what is good for me”. So, I agreed.
He ceremoniously handed me over to a young lass who led me to a dimly lit (almost shady even) room with a single couch on a raised platform and lots of fragrant candles. Being a family man, I was starting to get nervous here, but I feigned familiarity with the process of facials. I say feigned because in my 57 years on this planet my beauty cabinet only had a razor, shaving cream, and soap (the last of which often double banked as my shampoo too). This room on the other hand had about 150 bottles and jars with unguents of all colours and textures. My nervousness however, which was at level 8 (on a scale of ten) shot up to 20 (again on a scale of ten) when she asked me to remove my clothes and lie down on the couch. Pushing through my nervousness, and convincing myself that I, like Bertie Wooster, can always take the rough with the smooth, I unbuckled my belt. And just when I was in that awkward pose men take (you know the one with hands in the waist band and bending forward in preparation for lowering the trousers), she squeaked in an unnecessarily alarmed tone, “ONLY the shirt, Sir”.
It was thus with a mix of considerable embarrassment and relief that I lay down on the couch, shirtless. “Is this your first time?” she asked me. I nodded. “Oh, in that case, it might sting a bit but don’t touch the face”, saying so, she applied a liberal layer of something cool on my face. Thereafter she switched on some soothing music and saying that she would be back in ten minutes she left me to my solitude. And then the stinging started. And by God it stung. However, I am a man of steely resolve and by biting my teeth a bit, cursing profusely and clutching the couch with both hands I was able to last the ten minutes. I must say that my admiration for The Wife increased manifold as she undergoes this process, willingly, every so often. My relief at sensing her (the lass, not The Wife) enter the room after the ten minutes, was, you will understand, extreme. She then proceeded to cleanse my face with liberal use of the contents of the 150 bottles and jars. Another 20 minutes later she was finished and she switched on the lights. I looked at myself in the mirror expectantly and was surprised to note that I looked exactly the same as before! However, as the young lass was also looking at me expectantly, I made some appropriate noises and donning my shirt headed for the elegant but intimidating lady.
“That would be Rs 3900/- Sir.” Feeling that I had been robbed, I paid the amount reluctantly, all the while looking back wistfully at the many fauji barbers who had plied their trade selflessly over the past three and a half decades. No stinging, no fawning, no unguents; plus a complimentary champy. All for Rs 60/-.
Super RKD, enjoyed every bit of it. Keep writing ✨️
Thanx Babu
“I found little difference in my appearance pre and post haircut,………” ha, ha sir! The best can’t get better! Cheers to your style anyway.
Regards, Capt Shirish Srivastava
‘The best cant get better’. Just my thoughts. Thanx Shirish
Et tu Bruté…I have suffered similarly but now I am a pro…
Rakesh…I am reminded of Kota House where a brand new salon ‘Looks’ was commissioned, in 2018 or so, which was ‘unisex’…however that term is best left alone for the moment…
The resident barber of Kota House, Ram Bodh Ji (God bless his soul, he succumbed to COVID) should have been worried. On my routine visit to him, I asked him if ‘Looks’ had dented his business.
“Arre Nahi Sirji,” he quipped. “Sahab log wahan jaate hai aur phir mere paas aa jate hain aur kehte hain, ‘Ram Bodh Ji, theek kar dijiye’.”
Haha! Thank you very much, Sir. Your anecdote is even better. Cheers to the Ram Bodhis!!
😉
Beautiful RKD.
Thank you very much
Too Good RKD., like Always.
Thanx Sunil
Good one sir. I found a close match to the ship’s barber in civvy street in Ahmedabad. The relief is profound.
Hi Kollali! Thank you very much. And where did you even come across my blog! Anyway, now that you have, please feel free to share amongst your friends/family. And good t0 know Ahmedabad is suiting you barber-wise!
Hey RK, you’ve winded my clock back to the day I first ventured a unisex salon after my retirement. The flashback of the whole episode resembles so much to my own experience. It is quite a solace to learn that I was not the only sufferer. Good read, well written.
Hilarious as always. Keep it coming Sir
Thanx Baldev
Thanx Sudheer. Sadly, we are all approaching that stage hair wise, where we may not need salons at all!
Good morning sir
Really amazing weekend reading.
Enjoyed every bit and compared ther service and civil living style , especially learned about daylight robbery of cozy living habits of civil world with nothing and wasting so much of amount .
Warm regards
Thank you Abra
Very nice one Sir.
Thanx Anandan
Good observation. Almost each one of us have gone through similar experience. 😉
I’m sure we all have had similar experiences. Thanx a lot Admiral
Excellent one. Similar experience at a lesser price in 2008 when I had become a veteran.
Sharing..
Pankaj
It would not be wrong to say most of us would have had the same experience! Thanx Pankaj
Hi Sir,
An interesting read. Never had the occassion to visit a barber shop or a saloon….so quiet insulated from what goes on there.
Quiet and experience you had. Beautifully penned.
Regards
JPS Sobti
Aah, you are the lucky (or maybe unlucky?) one! Thanx JPS
Ha ! Ha ! I had a hearty laugh as I have had similar experience. 😍 At Air Force Academy, the barber shop had a poster inside – I don’t teach you how to fly, you don’t teach me how to cut hair!! 😜😜
👌
We all seem to have!
Ha ! Ha ! I had a hearty laugh as I have had similar experience. 😍 At Air Force Academy, the barber shop had a poster inside – I don’t teach you how to fly, you don’t teach me how to cut hair!! 😜😜
Thank you very much Sir
And truer words were never uttered by any barber
Wonderfull. Enjoyed reading it like always. I am yey to venture into any. They look scarry to me.
Arey bhai. Be adventurous!
Thanks for sharing. Never had the shampoo or facial before. I learn from other’s mistakes. 👍🏼
Go for it Aries. One must experience everything that life has to offer!
Thank God I have been spared such ordeals as my wife does not believe in this metro-male trend. So, its just the haircut with the luxury of a shave once in a blue moon and as champy is no longer complementary, I get a free version which could be called ‘cha’ in a derisive manner, the ‘mpy’ being dumped at the altar of conservatism. Moreover, a champy from the wife is far far better. 😁
Lucky you Sir! Let me catch my wife!
Nice article Sir, haircuts on grey hulls are experiences by themselves….your salon experience reminds me of the hilarious movie Andaaz Apna Apna, “Baal bhi kate hai aur pata bhi nahi chala” ; a haircut at the Taj costing a then princely sum of Rs 100/-.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9ydaP3zuzyk
Nice article Sir, haircuts on grey hulls are experiences by themselves….your salon experience reminds me of the hilarious movie Andaaz Apna Apna, “Baal bhi kate hai aur pata bhi nahi chala” ; a haircut at the Taj costing a then princely sum of Rs 100/-.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9ydaP3zuzyk
Bilkul pata nahin chala! One learns as one goes along. Thank you Roshan
Nice humorous observation of a daily lifestyle, Rakesh!
#ObservationalComedy
Thanx a lot Harsha!
I think you have mentioned some very interesting points, thankyou for the post.