So I go to the barbershop last Friday to get my mane to acceptable levels. The barbershop has transformed itself in the past 10 years or so from Raj Hair Cutting Saloon, devoid of any air-conditioners to Raj Gents Salon complete with a split AC. Even the lead barber in the 'salon' (missing an O on purpose) has a certificate from the L'Oreal Institute (at least, it looked genuine). I am going to start calling him The Expert as it is the first time in my life that I have seen (in India or US) that someone has a certificate from the L'Oreal Institute. You probably think I have very low tastes in hair-cutting but I don't think going to a barber once in 3 months requires me to go to someone 'highly qualified'.
So I am on the chair awaiting my turn, specs off - I probably have never seen clearly as to what happens once the sheet goes inside the collar, for obvious reasons but for those who don't know me well, I am practically blind without my optic-powers , sheet on, hair wet and the snipping starts. A few minutes in to the drill, The Expert very matter-of-the-factly tells me, "aapke chehre par bahut baal hai". Key word being "chehra". Taken slightly aback at the truth and nowhere to go (you try leaving the shop in the middle of a hair-cut, I will give you Rs 1000/-) I tell him, "hmmm". And once he is done with chopping off the hair, heasks tells me, "clean up kar doon?!". With a new job looming, I give in to his demands (worst idea ever in the short term, trust me).
And then the horror starts. Ironically, it was Bakri-Eid, and just like "bakra halaal hota hai", visualize me. My face is laden with some cream and then a vaporizer steams my face to such hotness (literally) that I can't keep my face still for more than 2 seconds in a particular pose. And then the actual nightmare starts (what did you think?).
He takes a special thread, winds it on his fingers and unleashes hell on my face. Twisting through the facial gruff (ears included), one by one, they come down and my face turns red. I cannot see any of this but I can feel every cell in my body wince in pain. In fact, such was the torture that tears start flowing and I inexplicably ask him, "Bhai, khoon to nahi nikal raha hai?". Extremely nonchalantly, he replies, "nahi sir, mera dandha band ho jayega agar aisa hua to" and continues his barbaric act. A few agonizing minutes later, the twisting stops (Thank God, right?). Wrong. It is time to remove the pesky blackheads that K has tried her level best to convince me to get rid of (villainous laughter by K at this time). The blackhead cleansing process was nearly not that painful as the Twister but enough for me to sneeze nastily a couple of times.
I got to give it to The Expert though. The work that he did on my face was extremely worth the pain and I am now, you know, 'clean'. The whole process took about an hour but he would have gone for 2 more had K not given me a timely call asking "Kahan hai be?". Next stop, hair coloring. He is extremely against 'mehendi" and was hell bent on knowing who proposed that dastardly idea that applying mehendi is actually a good idea. Unbeknownst to him, it was K, but of course, I did not tell him unless now he is reading my blog (highly unlikely).
So as I sit here pondering my next move, The Expert is waiting with his equipment at his shop for his newest bakra. God save me!!
So I am on the chair awaiting my turn, specs off - I probably have never seen clearly as to what happens once the sheet goes inside the collar, for obvious reasons but for those who don't know me well, I am practically blind without my optic-powers , sheet on, hair wet and the snipping starts. A few minutes in to the drill, The Expert very matter-of-the-factly tells me, "aapke chehre par bahut baal hai". Key word being "chehra". Taken slightly aback at the truth and nowhere to go (you try leaving the shop in the middle of a hair-cut, I will give you Rs 1000/-) I tell him, "hmmm". And once he is done with chopping off the hair, he
And then the horror starts. Ironically, it was Bakri-Eid, and just like "bakra halaal hota hai", visualize me. My face is laden with some cream and then a vaporizer steams my face to such hotness (literally) that I can't keep my face still for more than 2 seconds in a particular pose. And then the actual nightmare starts (what did you think?).
He takes a special thread, winds it on his fingers and unleashes hell on my face. Twisting through the facial gruff (ears included), one by one, they come down and my face turns red. I cannot see any of this but I can feel every cell in my body wince in pain. In fact, such was the torture that tears start flowing and I inexplicably ask him, "Bhai, khoon to nahi nikal raha hai?". Extremely nonchalantly, he replies, "nahi sir, mera dandha band ho jayega agar aisa hua to" and continues his barbaric act. A few agonizing minutes later, the twisting stops (Thank God, right?). Wrong. It is time to remove the pesky blackheads that K has tried her level best to convince me to get rid of (villainous laughter by K at this time). The blackhead cleansing process was nearly not that painful as the Twister but enough for me to sneeze nastily a couple of times.
I got to give it to The Expert though. The work that he did on my face was extremely worth the pain and I am now, you know, 'clean'. The whole process took about an hour but he would have gone for 2 more had K not given me a timely call asking "Kahan hai be?". Next stop, hair coloring. He is extremely against 'mehendi" and was hell bent on knowing who proposed that dastardly idea that applying mehendi is actually a good idea. Unbeknownst to him, it was K, but of course, I did not tell him unless now he is reading my blog (highly unlikely).
So as I sit here pondering my next move, The Expert is waiting with his equipment at his shop for his newest bakra. God save me!!
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