Off on Saturday provides luxury towards attending the personal work that though important but barely possible on hectic weekdays. Grooming is one such important activity amongst banking, petrol, family visits, cricket, doctor, afternoon nap, studies etc. On a wonderful Saturday evening I went to visit my under construction house that stands in a tall edifice in an unexplored area of Virar east. The scenic beauty of setting sun that leaves an orangy sketch towards the western skyline satisfies the inner thirst. It calms down the overburden stresses acquired throughout the demanding weekdays. Towards north falls the temple of Goddesses Jivdani which sits atop the beautiful mountain. This landscape too provides a stunning view. Fulfilling the desire and admiring the nature I left the construction site to get a haircut.
I parked my bike on a roadside against the grooming shop of Kailash. Entering the 10X30 shop I was greeted by Madan in his usual style with a smile “काय कुनाल दादा, बर्याच दिवसानी एने केलात?”
It was more than the mere inquiry of wellbeing. The respect behind the actual words was evident. I smiled back and pat his back and said “हो. तुला भेतैलाच खास आलो.”
“पण आज कैलाश दादा नाही आहेत. स्टेशन ला गेलेत. उशीर होइल येइला.”
I usually prefer Kailash over others for hair-cutting. Since my childhood I and many others have been cutting hair from Kailash. The exceptions have occurred only in his absence. On one such occasion a year ago I had allowed Madan to touch my skull. Back then I was happy for the skills displayed by him. It was as comforting as Kailash and had a touch of youth exuberance too. Hence I immediately asked Madan to do the duty himself in absence of his master. I said “आज तूच काप मज्हे केस.”
“दाढ़ी पण करुया की दादा?” he queried.
“ठीक आह्ये” I replied.
The charm and gloom which appeared on Madan’s face after hearing my response was worth filming. I don’t prefer shaving outside as per the doctor’s advice to self shave after the several surgeries I have under gone for warts.
The store has three well cushioned chairs that take about 80% of the entire carpet area. Kailash’s chair is the last next to the cash box that is secured underneath the heavenly presence of God. The middle chair is operated by a new person every time I enter. And first chair from the door side, beside a hung up television set, is obtained by the young boy Madan. This sturdy fair guy comes from the ghats of Maharashtra. The educational qualification doesn’t matter to him as the traditional barber family doesn’t boast over it. He has obeyed his parents and married a young girl from village at the age of 22. These days he is 25 and the family is complete with an addition of a baby girl. The physical stress put during the long exercising sessions has strengthened each muscle of his. The broaden collar bone and the massive biceps demonstrate a perfect healthy human. With Madan you won’t ever fill the usual boredom of haircut. He always has a subject or two which hasn’t taken up in any other discussion forums of mine. He’ll talk about the little happiness life has blessed upon him. On another turn he’ll discuss about the missed chance of getting into the Indian Military services. The hurt of his comes to ground from deep inside the soft corner of heart. It happens with the broken dream. I have unsuccessfully tried to help him forget this many times. Not that he is a military man and stands barber for loosing on it.
This Saturday evening was going to be long session for me for being with Madan, and the absence of proprietor had spiced him up. The voice of his was vibrant and loud. After about 5 minutes I got a chance to enjoy the exclusive services of Madan. The scissor, the comb and the sprinkler made appropriate moves which formulated a symphony of haircutting from the skillful hands of Madan. As went the cutting so did the usual chanting of his. The television showcased a dubbed south Indian film which as customary had a scary hero and a beautiful heroine. I was getting glimpse of it as and when Madan stood aside. Suddenly Madan began on films. Then I knew about running of the south Indian film in a typical Marathi environment. For Madan’s wish the channeled wasn’t changed until now. He pukes about his love for south Indian films that too dubbed. I wonder whether that is for the muscular ill-looking male protagonist actor or is for the gorgeous heroine. Maybe I and Madan have contradictory reasons for respecting the audacity of that south Indian freak.
I dare to shake up the button named ‘channel’ on the broken strip beneath that little 14 inch television which was more audible than its size. The changed channel broadcasted the song from Emraan Hasmi’s film ‘The Train’. The beats in music engrossed the small room with loads of sound. I searched for the button ‘Volume’ to find it misplaced. “वोह अजनबी, वोह अजनबी” made Madan as well as me to tap our legs. Another type of concert began to assist the ongoing scissor, comb, sprinkler show. All of sudden the screen show Geeta Basra. Plenty of gossipers have made merry attaching Harbhajan Singh’s name with her. I opened before Madan about the chitchat to which he astoundingly was aware about. He looked pleased looking at the dazzling Geeta Basra and uttered “अच्छा हीच का हरभजन ची गर्लफ्रेंड.”
The tail of this tale didn’t stop here. Madan was well informed about Yuvraj’s patch up with Kim Sharma.
I heedlessly questioned him about the source of this rich knowledge stock. For a reason or other he took this enquiry as my interest to know about his daily curriculum. He began stating the loads of works he performs during the busy work-days. I understood that the Friday’s and Tuesday’s provide maximum work other than the packed Sunday’s. Rests are passing days for this business. With the active competition they have equipped themselves to sustain the heat. The business is good and remained unshaken by the recession. I did agree over it as the customers like me remained loyal to Kailash throughout. I myself have to collect a kilometer on my bike’s meter reader before reaching here. I also know people come here from Virar west to get the haircut. Kailash surely reaps the benefits of his hardwork, dedication and loyalty. He stands perfect idol to man’s work worship.
My haircut came to close and the shaving began. Madan pulls out a pack of gutkha and peels of the cover. The entire pocket is emptied at one go demonstrating his decayed tooth’s. I kept mum. Sensing my awkwardness he responds by saying “दादा तुला बारे माज्या सारखी वाईट सवियी नही ते”. I smiled back. Later he religiously pulls a drawer and takes out the best shaving cream, brush and after shave. He’s well aware of my sensitive beard.
Meanwhile Madan continued describing his Holiday which falls on Monday. He warms the bed until 10:00 AM. Later he dedicates himself to his little daughter, who seems to be world for him. He propound for her brushing and washing. The wife is spared on Monday. By 11:00 the family goes to market the weekly groceries. At 1:00 Madan goes to nearby bar to get his weekly booze. A special lunch is served on Monday’s by his caring wife. A Marathi film is watched every Monday afternoon post reading the three different newspapers. Those papers keep Madan foot-to-foot with the world, especially with Harbhajan and Yuvraj. At the fall of evening, which seems adorable from this place, the family visits either of the ponds situated at Manvel pada or one nearby Virar station. This concludes the holiday of Madan. Thus Tuesdays seem tiresome.
By now the best efforts of Madan couldn’t sustain the bleeding wart over my cheek. I was in pain at certain scuffed areas. Madan continued about his family. The description of his village house made me actually see a typical Indian home onto a canvas. I could see the villagers with long white turbans seating next to house happily chanting and chewing and smoking tobacco. Madan’s dislike for relatives was spoken upright. He avoids visiting the first cousins who were financially better as he losses his freedom in there company. He and his wife as customary to the social scales haven’t visited the closest of the close relatives since marriage. Madan’s hate for them was purposely not inquired by me. On the other side, he prefers visiting friends place. On one occasion he stayed at friend’s residence at Nahik even the house of his cousin was a door step away.
By this time the shaving was over too. Madan applied alum as a disinfectant. Later he also sprayed the aftershave. The burning and irritation reached its height. Madan started rubbing my shoulders. The grip of his expansive palms was tight as a serpent’s bite. He massaged till the tip of the fingers which dissolved the spasms in my contracted muscles. I breathe a sigh of relief and thanked Madan for his devotional services. I merrily paid the bill with a handsome tip to Madan. Leaving the shop I crossed with Kailash who greeted me as usual.
While riding back I thought about Madan and his world. To me he represents the perfect living icon. He worships his work. He takes active part in his masters business. The lack of education doesn’t bother him. He’s mission is to satisfy the customers and share his good word with everyone. He makes enough to run a happy family. The family is his world. And most importantly he sports a wide smile. The smile that is genuine.
I parked my bike on a roadside against the grooming shop of Kailash. Entering the 10X30 shop I was greeted by Madan in his usual style with a smile “काय कुनाल दादा, बर्याच दिवसानी एने केलात?”
It was more than the mere inquiry of wellbeing. The respect behind the actual words was evident. I smiled back and pat his back and said “हो. तुला भेतैलाच खास आलो.”
“पण आज कैलाश दादा नाही आहेत. स्टेशन ला गेलेत. उशीर होइल येइला.”
I usually prefer Kailash over others for hair-cutting. Since my childhood I and many others have been cutting hair from Kailash. The exceptions have occurred only in his absence. On one such occasion a year ago I had allowed Madan to touch my skull. Back then I was happy for the skills displayed by him. It was as comforting as Kailash and had a touch of youth exuberance too. Hence I immediately asked Madan to do the duty himself in absence of his master. I said “आज तूच काप मज्हे केस.”
“दाढ़ी पण करुया की दादा?” he queried.
“ठीक आह्ये” I replied.
The charm and gloom which appeared on Madan’s face after hearing my response was worth filming. I don’t prefer shaving outside as per the doctor’s advice to self shave after the several surgeries I have under gone for warts.
The store has three well cushioned chairs that take about 80% of the entire carpet area. Kailash’s chair is the last next to the cash box that is secured underneath the heavenly presence of God. The middle chair is operated by a new person every time I enter. And first chair from the door side, beside a hung up television set, is obtained by the young boy Madan. This sturdy fair guy comes from the ghats of Maharashtra. The educational qualification doesn’t matter to him as the traditional barber family doesn’t boast over it. He has obeyed his parents and married a young girl from village at the age of 22. These days he is 25 and the family is complete with an addition of a baby girl. The physical stress put during the long exercising sessions has strengthened each muscle of his. The broaden collar bone and the massive biceps demonstrate a perfect healthy human. With Madan you won’t ever fill the usual boredom of haircut. He always has a subject or two which hasn’t taken up in any other discussion forums of mine. He’ll talk about the little happiness life has blessed upon him. On another turn he’ll discuss about the missed chance of getting into the Indian Military services. The hurt of his comes to ground from deep inside the soft corner of heart. It happens with the broken dream. I have unsuccessfully tried to help him forget this many times. Not that he is a military man and stands barber for loosing on it.
This Saturday evening was going to be long session for me for being with Madan, and the absence of proprietor had spiced him up. The voice of his was vibrant and loud. After about 5 minutes I got a chance to enjoy the exclusive services of Madan. The scissor, the comb and the sprinkler made appropriate moves which formulated a symphony of haircutting from the skillful hands of Madan. As went the cutting so did the usual chanting of his. The television showcased a dubbed south Indian film which as customary had a scary hero and a beautiful heroine. I was getting glimpse of it as and when Madan stood aside. Suddenly Madan began on films. Then I knew about running of the south Indian film in a typical Marathi environment. For Madan’s wish the channeled wasn’t changed until now. He pukes about his love for south Indian films that too dubbed. I wonder whether that is for the muscular ill-looking male protagonist actor or is for the gorgeous heroine. Maybe I and Madan have contradictory reasons for respecting the audacity of that south Indian freak.
I dare to shake up the button named ‘channel’ on the broken strip beneath that little 14 inch television which was more audible than its size. The changed channel broadcasted the song from Emraan Hasmi’s film ‘The Train’. The beats in music engrossed the small room with loads of sound. I searched for the button ‘Volume’ to find it misplaced. “वोह अजनबी, वोह अजनबी” made Madan as well as me to tap our legs. Another type of concert began to assist the ongoing scissor, comb, sprinkler show. All of sudden the screen show Geeta Basra. Plenty of gossipers have made merry attaching Harbhajan Singh’s name with her. I opened before Madan about the chitchat to which he astoundingly was aware about. He looked pleased looking at the dazzling Geeta Basra and uttered “अच्छा हीच का हरभजन ची गर्लफ्रेंड.”
The tail of this tale didn’t stop here. Madan was well informed about Yuvraj’s patch up with Kim Sharma.
I heedlessly questioned him about the source of this rich knowledge stock. For a reason or other he took this enquiry as my interest to know about his daily curriculum. He began stating the loads of works he performs during the busy work-days. I understood that the Friday’s and Tuesday’s provide maximum work other than the packed Sunday’s. Rests are passing days for this business. With the active competition they have equipped themselves to sustain the heat. The business is good and remained unshaken by the recession. I did agree over it as the customers like me remained loyal to Kailash throughout. I myself have to collect a kilometer on my bike’s meter reader before reaching here. I also know people come here from Virar west to get the haircut. Kailash surely reaps the benefits of his hardwork, dedication and loyalty. He stands perfect idol to man’s work worship.
My haircut came to close and the shaving began. Madan pulls out a pack of gutkha and peels of the cover. The entire pocket is emptied at one go demonstrating his decayed tooth’s. I kept mum. Sensing my awkwardness he responds by saying “दादा तुला बारे माज्या सारखी वाईट सवियी नही ते”. I smiled back. Later he religiously pulls a drawer and takes out the best shaving cream, brush and after shave. He’s well aware of my sensitive beard.
Meanwhile Madan continued describing his Holiday which falls on Monday. He warms the bed until 10:00 AM. Later he dedicates himself to his little daughter, who seems to be world for him. He propound for her brushing and washing. The wife is spared on Monday. By 11:00 the family goes to market the weekly groceries. At 1:00 Madan goes to nearby bar to get his weekly booze. A special lunch is served on Monday’s by his caring wife. A Marathi film is watched every Monday afternoon post reading the three different newspapers. Those papers keep Madan foot-to-foot with the world, especially with Harbhajan and Yuvraj. At the fall of evening, which seems adorable from this place, the family visits either of the ponds situated at Manvel pada or one nearby Virar station. This concludes the holiday of Madan. Thus Tuesdays seem tiresome.
By now the best efforts of Madan couldn’t sustain the bleeding wart over my cheek. I was in pain at certain scuffed areas. Madan continued about his family. The description of his village house made me actually see a typical Indian home onto a canvas. I could see the villagers with long white turbans seating next to house happily chanting and chewing and smoking tobacco. Madan’s dislike for relatives was spoken upright. He avoids visiting the first cousins who were financially better as he losses his freedom in there company. He and his wife as customary to the social scales haven’t visited the closest of the close relatives since marriage. Madan’s hate for them was purposely not inquired by me. On the other side, he prefers visiting friends place. On one occasion he stayed at friend’s residence at Nahik even the house of his cousin was a door step away.
By this time the shaving was over too. Madan applied alum as a disinfectant. Later he also sprayed the aftershave. The burning and irritation reached its height. Madan started rubbing my shoulders. The grip of his expansive palms was tight as a serpent’s bite. He massaged till the tip of the fingers which dissolved the spasms in my contracted muscles. I breathe a sigh of relief and thanked Madan for his devotional services. I merrily paid the bill with a handsome tip to Madan. Leaving the shop I crossed with Kailash who greeted me as usual.
While riding back I thought about Madan and his world. To me he represents the perfect living icon. He worships his work. He takes active part in his masters business. The lack of education doesn’t bother him. He’s mission is to satisfy the customers and share his good word with everyone. He makes enough to run a happy family. The family is his world. And most importantly he sports a wide smile. The smile that is genuine.
