28 years ago, when people did not have electronic shaving racers, I was
only 7 months old, when my parents took me to a temple named "edyur"
near chikodi, in Karnataka, where for the first time in my life, a guy touched
my head with his knife. Earlier people used to touch my head and feel its
softness. Sometimes I used to laugh and most of the times, I would rather
be more irritated, not by the touching sense but by the nonsense things
they would speak to me, rubbing my head.
Here, when the guy touched my head with his knife, I felt the pain and
started crying. It was a very loud cry and even my mother did not console
me, instead she put a banana into my mouth, when I opened my mouth to cry.
I would not control my anger and I started hitting around me with my legs,
when my father got hold of that too. They were physically strong and I was
only 7 months old, not having the power to fight back. When all these
emotions were going on, suddenly the same barber pierced a pin into my
ears; it was like a sudden thunder hitting me. I was not able to bear the
pain. Louder and bigger the cry, bigger the size of banana went inside.
After my tears gland went empty, I was not in a position to cry and I
consoled myself saying that I would one day find this barber and pierce him
with a bigger pin and make him cry for a year. Having seen me stop crying,
mother was happy and I was further humiliated in front of all my relatives,
when I was made completely naked even without the hair to cover my head. I
was not able to understand why these many people have gathered to watch me
tonsured and laugh while I cried. It was like a big feast, when my parents
have arranged even big feast serve my relatives on this famous
occasion of making me tonsured.
For another three to four months I was not able to move freely with people
and wherever I go, people would touch my empty head and say “Motai”. I was
very angry with all those who insulted me, especially with the smaller
children in the age group of 5 to 8, who would humiliate me and torture me
every time by rubbing their dirty hand on my soft head.
Days passed and slowly I would feel some extremely beautiful soft hairs
rose on my head. I became more and more smart and my age group girls
started seeing me. Then afterwards, I was not tonsured, but would go to
some barber shops for getting my hairs cut.
I would not remember the exact day, when I was first taken to a barber
shop. I would remember the shop where I used to shape my hairs when I was 9
years old. It was just nearby my house in a shopping center and he would charge me
only Rs 2.00.
I hate to go to barber shops, as these guys would torture me by asking me
to sit straight, not to move the heads and give so many irritating
instructions.
Moreover, my parents would catch my hair, after I take bath and would sense
the length of my hair. As of them, they must not be able to hold the hair.
As my age got increased, more hair styles were introduced by the Hollywood
hero’s and the bollywood hero’s, when sometimes I was even the prey to
these styles of hair cutting.
Always the most preferred hair style for me is to have very short hairs. I
was a great fan of navy & air force style hair cuts. It was very easy for
me to explain people in a word by saying “Military cut”, even to the people
who would not understand the language I speak. Because all over the world,
military is the only dept where people used to have less hairs and all
eccentric hair cuts.
When I was in kolhapur, the usual way of explaining my hair style, indeed,
helped me a lot, as the barber doesn’t understand English and I can’t speak
the local language “Marathi”. I would say “military cut” and sit on the
chair when he starts to torture me. For everything he says, I would only
give a smile and sit quietly, as I don’t understand what he has spoken.
My recent haircut in Singapore was also an unforgettable event that made me
write this blog. It was the first hair cut by a woman. I was bit scared
seeing a woman cutting my hair. As I went to the barber shop (now-a-days
referred only as “Hair stylists”), I saw two woman hair stylists and one
guy stylist shaping hairs. Here there is token system, whereby you have to
get a token from an automatic machine by inserting 10S$(Equivalent to Rs
295, by which I would do hair cutting for more than 10 times).
Also you would find many girls/ladies coming to these hair stylists to trim
their hairs. It was a big surprise for me to see these ladies in barber
shops, as in India you don’t have common hair stylists shops both for men
and woman. As this shop is bisexual, there was relatively bigger queue
even in a rainy day. I was to wait long for my turn, when a lady hair
stylist was about to cut my hairs. I was bit scared and worried whether she
would cut to my expectation. Moreover here the hair styles are entirely
different. I don’t have words to explain them. Only way to explain is to
send a photo...which I sent u . But to my surprise, she was very good and would ask me every
time after she finishes whether I am Ok with what she had done. It turned
out to be a really good one.
These are all some of my memorable haircuts in life and there are many more
to follow… yet my search for the first barber who pierced my ear would
continue……………..
only 7 months old, when my parents took me to a temple named "edyur"
near chikodi, in Karnataka, where for the first time in my life, a guy touched
my head with his knife. Earlier people used to touch my head and feel its
softness. Sometimes I used to laugh and most of the times, I would rather
be more irritated, not by the touching sense but by the nonsense things
they would speak to me, rubbing my head.
Here, when the guy touched my head with his knife, I felt the pain and
started crying. It was a very loud cry and even my mother did not console
me, instead she put a banana into my mouth, when I opened my mouth to cry.
I would not control my anger and I started hitting around me with my legs,
when my father got hold of that too. They were physically strong and I was
only 7 months old, not having the power to fight back. When all these
emotions were going on, suddenly the same barber pierced a pin into my
ears; it was like a sudden thunder hitting me. I was not able to bear the
pain. Louder and bigger the cry, bigger the size of banana went inside.
After my tears gland went empty, I was not in a position to cry and I
consoled myself saying that I would one day find this barber and pierce him
with a bigger pin and make him cry for a year. Having seen me stop crying,
mother was happy and I was further humiliated in front of all my relatives,
when I was made completely naked even without the hair to cover my head. I
was not able to understand why these many people have gathered to watch me
tonsured and laugh while I cried. It was like a big feast, when my parents
have arranged even big feast serve my relatives on this famous
occasion of making me tonsured.
For another three to four months I was not able to move freely with people
and wherever I go, people would touch my empty head and say “Motai”. I was
very angry with all those who insulted me, especially with the smaller
children in the age group of 5 to 8, who would humiliate me and torture me
every time by rubbing their dirty hand on my soft head.
Days passed and slowly I would feel some extremely beautiful soft hairs
rose on my head. I became more and more smart and my age group girls
started seeing me. Then afterwards, I was not tonsured, but would go to
some barber shops for getting my hairs cut.
I would not remember the exact day, when I was first taken to a barber
shop. I would remember the shop where I used to shape my hairs when I was 9
years old. It was just nearby my house in a shopping center and he would charge me
only Rs 2.00.
I hate to go to barber shops, as these guys would torture me by asking me
to sit straight, not to move the heads and give so many irritating
instructions.
Moreover, my parents would catch my hair, after I take bath and would sense
the length of my hair. As of them, they must not be able to hold the hair.
As my age got increased, more hair styles were introduced by the Hollywood
hero’s and the bollywood hero’s, when sometimes I was even the prey to
these styles of hair cutting.
Always the most preferred hair style for me is to have very short hairs. I
was a great fan of navy & air force style hair cuts. It was very easy for
me to explain people in a word by saying “Military cut”, even to the people
who would not understand the language I speak. Because all over the world,
military is the only dept where people used to have less hairs and all
eccentric hair cuts.
When I was in kolhapur, the usual way of explaining my hair style, indeed,
helped me a lot, as the barber doesn’t understand English and I can’t speak
the local language “Marathi”. I would say “military cut” and sit on the
chair when he starts to torture me. For everything he says, I would only
give a smile and sit quietly, as I don’t understand what he has spoken.
My recent haircut in Singapore was also an unforgettable event that made me
write this blog. It was the first hair cut by a woman. I was bit scared
seeing a woman cutting my hair. As I went to the barber shop (now-a-days
referred only as “Hair stylists”), I saw two woman hair stylists and one
guy stylist shaping hairs. Here there is token system, whereby you have to
get a token from an automatic machine by inserting 10S$(Equivalent to Rs
295, by which I would do hair cutting for more than 10 times).
Also you would find many girls/ladies coming to these hair stylists to trim
their hairs. It was a big surprise for me to see these ladies in barber
shops, as in India you don’t have common hair stylists shops both for men
and woman. As this shop is bisexual, there was relatively bigger queue
even in a rainy day. I was to wait long for my turn, when a lady hair
stylist was about to cut my hairs. I was bit scared and worried whether she
would cut to my expectation. Moreover here the hair styles are entirely
different. I don’t have words to explain them. Only way to explain is to
send a photo...which I sent u . But to my surprise, she was very good and would ask me every
time after she finishes whether I am Ok with what she had done. It turned
out to be a really good one.
These are all some of my memorable haircuts in life and there are many more
to follow… yet my search for the first barber who pierced my ear would
continue……………..
