The Accidental Barber

It was the summer of 1995 when I first saw Padmaja. She moved into the house next door with her family: a husband and a three year old son. She was a rather nice lady and pretty soon she and my mom were quite close friends. Food would routinely be sent back and forth, well mostly from her house to ours because my mom was a career woman as well and she didn’t quite have the time for cooking anything ‘special.’ I was mostly the errand boy between the two friends, running back and forth. She took it upon herself to keep an eye on me and take care of me till the time my mom got back home, so consequently, I would be over at her house almost as soon as I got home. I used to take care of my homework and keep an eye on her son for her, play with him and help with his homework as well. On the whole our families got along quite well together.

Time passed. All three years worth. One thing that I could not help noticing was her hair. It was a few inches below her shoulders when she had moved in, and now it had grown out till it fell to her butt. True, I would rarely get a glimpse of the full length as she mostly wore her hair up in a bun. But the rare occasions when she had it in a plait, or was combing it out, it was quite  thrill to watch. The one time she got bangs cut into her hair, I remember being both happy and disappointed. Deep in the adolescent recesses of my mind, I wondered if I would ever get to touch it. And then it happened. One day everything changed…

It was a few days after my sixteenth birthday. I was preparing for my final examinations. School was mostly optional at this point because the syllabus had been completed and you only needed to go in if you needed any help with revising. It was a bright monday morning and my mom had left for work. While going out she reminded me to return some dishes to Padmaja that were washed and on the kitchen table. I spent a couple of hours checking up on my Physics notes and then decided to wander over. I grabbed the dishes off the table, locked the door and went over to her place. The front door was open and I just wandered in calling out for her.

She came out of the kitchen. “Oh it’s you… Leave the dishes on the table. Do you want some breakfast?” she asked.
“No thanks, auntie*, I just ate.” I said.
“Okay, how about second breakfast then?”
“Ummmmmm…..” I drawled not feeling like eating again just yet, but still scared to refuse. As far as she was concerned, refusing food would be an insult.
“Okay, have some snacks.” she said putting some savories on a plate and setting it on the table. Not having much of a choice I sat down to eat. They were perfectly delicious, but I was feeling stuffed having already raided the batch she had sent last night.

[*Bog standard way of addressing anyone old enough to be your mom. Or friends with your mom. We don’t use last names or titles. Besides, calling her Mrs. [last name] would result in a whack with a broom, and an official complaint to my mom, followed by a further whack with whatever my mom found handy.]

She busied herself with the laundry and started the washing machine. Then she came over and sat down at the table. “So how goes the studies?” she asked.
“Yeah, going on…” I replied.
“Are you going to top the school?” she asked teasingly. She knew I never was much of a swot and didn’t care too much for the learn-by-rote-and-spew kind of learning that our schools are famous for.  Instead of replying to her question I gave her one of my trademark lopsided grins.
“Don’t do that. It scares me,” she said rapping me on the head with her knuckles.
“Ouch!” I protested.
“Don’t be a baby. That won’t even hurt Vasu,” she said referring to her six year old.
“There is something I wanted to ask you though, you’ve started shaving right?” she asked. I was taken aback by the question.
“Yeah, but why do you ask?” I asked her, a little weirded out by the question. She was silent for a few moments. The she took a deep breath.

 “Okay. Here’s the thing. We have a tradition in the family. Every four years we are supposed to offer our hair at the village temple. Now your uncle is on deputation to [city up north] and can’t come down. He tried his level best but he couldn’t get the time off.” she said.
“So what can I do?” I asked.
“Hold on a second you impatient imp. It is absolutely necessary that I get my head shaved this Thursday, and, send the hair to the temple. Everyone in the family will be doing it on that day, and so must I… Are you even listening?” she rapped me on the head again.
“Ow! I am listening.” I said coming out of the daze that hit me with the words ‘head shave.’ “What can I do?” I asked.
“With your uncle not being here, I will have to go to a barber shop. But that is something I really want to avoid. So, can you and will you shave me?” she asked dropping a ton of bricks.

My head was spinning. True, I had dreamed of touching her hair on many an occasion, but this was so far out beyond my dreams, I didn’t know what to say. “But I cant shave a head aunty, I only use a safety razor.” I replied.
“You will have to cut my hair short anyway because I can’t send wet hair. It will really start to smell bad.”
“But even if I cut your hair short, it will still be too long for the razor…” I said. I was seriously conflicted. One part of me wanted to shave her and the other part of me kept coming up with excuses to not to.
“Cut it as short as you can and then use your uncle’s beard trimmer. That should make it easy to shave,” she replied.
“Yeah, but will it be proper? I mean barbers in the temple use a straight razor.”
“I know. But sometimes adjustments have to be made. The important thing is getting my head shaved. Not how it is done. Now will you do it or will you make me go to a barber shop?” she asked. I thought I detected a slight tone of impatience and desperation.I just sat there unable to say anything. Internal conflict aside, I couldn’t stand the thought of some barber getting his hands on her hair. “Okay… I guess I’ll do it.” I said.

“Phew. One burden off my head.” she said.
“But what about Vasu then? And uncle?” I asked.
“Your uncle will take care of himself. And Vasu is still a kid. He’s not even ten, so it doesn’t matter for him if delayed. I can always take him to the temple once your uncle returns. But that is not the case for me,” she replied.
“Okay then, I guess I’ll be going.” I said getting up.
“Okay. Study well. And don’t forget on Thursday. Come around 10:30, so that should give me more than enough time for me to go to [local temple] before 1:30,” she said.

I went back home my mind in a whirl. I didn’t know what I was getting into and wondered what my mom would say about the whole thing. I didn’t know whether to feel happy that I would finally get my secret desire to touch her hair, or sad that I was going to cut it. Over the next couple of days, the idea started to grow on me and I actually found myself looking forward to the whole thing. I started to find it a little hard to concentrate on my revision, but somehow I managed to stay on, and even get a little ahead of my schedule.

Thursday morning dawned. The big day. I was eating breakfast and my mom was packing up for her office. “I almost forgot,” said my mom, “apparently, Padmaja auntie has to get her head shaved today. Some sort of family tradition she told me. But because uncle is away, she is planning to get it done at home. I told her that you will get her a barber and stay with her while the barber is at her place. Go around 10:30, and help her out. Take your books if you have to, but keep an eye on things when you are there.” I was surprised at this, but it probably made sense for her to tell my mom that way. “Okay mom.” I said. She gathered her stuff, smiled at me and left.

I sat down with my books after breakfast, but my heart wasn’t in it. After an hour or so I gave up and looked at the clock. 10:00. “Close enough,” I thought. I got up, locked the front door and went over to Padmaja’s house. I knocked on her door and she opened it. She was still in her nightie, an unusual occurrence for her. She looked at me and then the clock. “I said 10:30, right?” she asked. “Well, doesn’t matter. We can finish sooner,” she added letting me in.

I walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. “Just give me five minutes. I’ll change and come” she said wandering off into the bedroom. A few minutes later she emerged, changed into a light green saree with a flowered pattern, carrying a comb. “Let me plait my hair,” she said,  about to undo her trademark bun. “Can I do it please?” I asked before I realized what I said. She looked at me for a moment, then stuck the comb in her hair. She went over to the kitchen table and sat down.

“Well?” she asked looking at me. I went over to her and took the comb from her head. Her hair was finally in my hands. I tipped her head forward a little and pulled her bun loose with a bit of fumbling. I slowly started to comb out her thick silky hair. It fell straight to the seat of the chair that she was sitting in. Slowly gathering her hair I continued to comb her hair out for a while. “Can you plait my hair?” she asked.
“I know how but I never tried it.” I replied.
“Just make sure it is neat,” she said.

I continued to comb her hair for some more time, and then divided her hair into three sections. Very nervous, I pulled the sections firmly and started to plait her hair. Slowly. Stopping to comb every couple of twists, I wanted to make this time last as long as I could. But no matter how slowly I tried to do it, her plait was eventually done, and I tied off the last five inches or so of loose hair. As soon as I was done, she took the plait and examined it. “Not bad…” she said with a smile. Was it just me or did I detect a small hit of sadness.

“Go get the stuff from the bathroom.” she said. I went into the bathroom and opened the mirror cabinet. Inside were a pair of scissors and shaving set. I took the scissors, safety razor (changed its blade), shaving brush and cream. Then my eyes fell on the beard trimmer, plugged in and charged. I pulled out the plug and took that as well, walking back into the hall.

She was standing beside the table. “Do you have something to cover you with?” I asked her.
“No. Don’t worry about it. I will not be wearing this saree again anyway.” she replied.
I put everything on the table and asked her to sit. She instead turned the chair away from the table, and told me to sit on the chair instead. A little confused, I sat down. She then sat cross legged in front of me, at my feet. “What are you doing? Why don’t you sit on the chair?” I asked.
“This is how it is to be done, okay? I have to sit on the floor,” she said. I took a deep breath and picked up the scissors.
“One minute, just listen to what I tell you, okay?” she said. I waited. “Now it is possible that I may shed a few tears while you are cutting my hair. Don’t stop for any reason at all. Keep going till I am shaved clean. Okay?” she said.
“Okay.” I agreed.
She gave me a smile. “Get started then.” she said. “Just make sure you cut the plait as close as possible. After that, it’s entirely up to you”

I looked at her. Something about her bangs. Slightly overgrown. I picked up the comb as well. Then I took her chin in my left hand and drew her face forward slightly. I ran the comb through her bangs and adjusted my grip on her chin, pressing my fingers into her cheeks. I slid the scissors into her bangs and slowly cut them level with her hairline. As the first snippings of hair fell in her lap, I realized I had officially become  her barber. Some strands were stuck to her face and I wiped them off. Then I reached behind her for her plait.

She started to bend her head down as soon as I reached for her plait, but the position wasn’t quite comfortable. I asked her to scoot forward a bit. She obliged and I bent her head a bit more. Her head was almost between my knees. I adjusted my grip on her plait and put the scissors to it while pulling firmly on it. She obediently kept her head down. With the scissors ready to cut her plait, I started to hesitate a bit.

“Go on, start cutting.” she said. I detected a slight quaver in her voice. Steeling myself, I closed the blades of the scissors, taking the first bite out of her thick plait. Slowly I started to cut her plait. The submissive nature of the position in which I was cutting her hair was opening up a new world of excitement to me. I continued cutting away at her plait with the scissors, her head shaking with every bite. I could see the hair start to spread out were I was cutting it. Then I felt some irregular shakes of her head. I continued to cut, and then it stuck me. She was crying.

There was nothing I could do but keep going. I started cutting a little faster and soon her plait came off, cut neatly at the nape. I coiled it up and put it on the table. Holding her chin, I raised her head. I was right, I could see a couple of wet streaks down her cheeks. She wiped her face with the pallu of her saree. “Come on, let’s get it over with,” she said. I ran my fingers through her now barely-longer-than-chin-length hair and asked her to sit with her back to me. She turned around and scooted further back so that she was sitting pretty close to me.

I tipped her head down again. She obediently bent her head. “Please dont cry again.” I said. “I’ll try, but no promises.” she replied. I pushed the comb up the back of her nape and started to cut her hair short. Resolving to push ahead as quickly as possible, I started to crop her hair short quickly. First cutting off huge chunks of hair reducing the back to about a couple of inches in length, then quickly making another pass with the scissors cutting it as close as I could. Her hair was falling all over her shoulders and floor. There was a nice pile in her lap as well as I cropped her hair short diligently.

I continued to turn her head and crop her short till her hair was reduced to about 1/2 inch in length. I ran my hand over her fuzzy head and put the scissors and comb down. I picked up the trimmer and removed the guard.I turned her to face me yet again, but this time I had her sitting at an angle. She closed her eyes as I tipped her head forward. I switched on the trimmer and ran it up her nape. They worked rather well at this length, shearing off the 1/2 inch or so of hair left. Slowly I made the passes up the back of her head starting from the base of her neck, leaving behind a sand papery stubble.

She turned her head obediently to give me a good angle as I continued to shear her. Here was a woman, a good fourteen years older than me, completely compliant and letting me shave her. I steadily worked around the sides and the top of her head. With the last of the scissor stubble gone I turned off the trimmer and put it aside.

“I’ll get some water,”  I said getting up. I looked at the clock. 10:45. 40 minutes ago she had over three feet of hair. In another ten minutes she would be smooth. I went and got some water in a mug. I applied some shaving cream to her scalp. Dipping the brush in water, I worked up a nice coat of lather all over her scalp. Then I took the razor and started to shave her from the forehead back. Long slow strokes with the razor. I carefully shaved the top of her head, getting rid of the later in the mug. I ran the razor down the sides, one after the other. She had her eyes closed and completely obedient. Finally I tipped her head down and started on the back.

I looked at the clock as I ran the razor down her nape all the way to her shoulders. Almost 10:55. I ran a hand over her head to feel for any rough patches and cleaned them up as well. Dropping the razor in the mug, I ran a hand over her smooth head once more. “Well, I guess it’s over.” I said. Looking down, I saw her lap full of her hair that I had cropped off her head. It was a huge soft pile. Something glistening caught my eye. Teardrops in her cropped hair. She had shed some more tears after her plait came off. I felt a little guilty about the whole thing and also about enjoying the  experience of cutting her hair.

She got up and shook all the hair out of her lap onto the floor. “Now I have a lot of cleaning to do. Both myself and the floor,” she sighed. Ruffling my hair, she said, “Thanks a lot. And don’t worry that I cried a little. I wouldn’t be able to do that if it were in a barber shop. Oh, and if we are still in this house after four years, maybe you’ll get a chance again,” she smiled at me.

 

Four years passed since the events of the first part. During the intervening part I kept an eye on Padmaja’s hair. It was growing back long and thick, and by the time the next offering was due, it was hanging a few inches longer than the last time. Over the last year she caught me casting appraising looks at her bun. She started to plait her hair more often knowing that it would give me a kick. She also let me plait her hair on a few occasions and I loved it every time. I would spend a leisurely half an hour combing and plaiting her hair. The last few times, I put my fingers over her plait like a pair of scissors and pretended to cut it. She gave me a look of exasperation whenever I did that. The last time though she smiled and said “Next month.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Was it that time already?” I wondered. Her husband though back in town he had an audit going at the office and couldn’t make it. Well, on the whole, it was my gain, so I didn’t give it much thought. I reflexively tightened my grip on her plait.  “When?” I asked. “I’ll let you know once I speak to my mother in law. It’ll be a Thursday again, should be done in the morning like last time. Are you okay with it?” she asked.

In the intervening four years I had passed out of college and was currently working part time. Since I was due for a shift change anyway, I knew it wouldn’t be a problem to keep the morning free. I finished her braid and tied it off. “Longer than the last time,” I remarked. “Yeah, sometimes when the barber’s hands have a good aura, hair grows out longer than before,” she replied with a wink. I knew I’d be counting the days till the day she would give me a pair of scissors along with a comb.

Time seemed to crawl. I got my shifts changed well in advance. Another unexpected advantage was that she would let me plait her hair almost everyday in the days that led up to her upcoming shearing. I had a surprise of my own for her. In the interim four years, I had acquired a straight razor and had slowly learned how to use it. This would be a different experience for both of us.I was hoping I would be able to do it nice and clean without nicking her. I lay awake most nights thinking of her sitting at my feet and me shaving her.

And then something happened. She had relatives visit her. Her sister-in-law and neice showed up for a visit. That quickly put a stop to some my morning brushing session with Padmaja, but well, shit happens. I still wondered how I was going to get to shave her with her relatives in the house. I figured that she had a plan for it as she didn’t indicate any changes to the plan. About a week or so into their visit, I went over one morning to return some books I’d borrowed from her and get some other books. She told me to get the books I wanted from her book case. While I was looking through, she asked me, “Are you free this Thursday morning?” “Yeah,” I replied. “Okay, come over then.” she said. I figured she meant for her shave, so I just nodded. Quickly booking it back home, I went into my room and tried to gather my thoughts. “Phew. Day-after-tomorrow.” I let out an excited chuckle.

I couldn’t help both reliving her previous shave, and caught myself planning the next one in even more detail. In the back of her mind I used to wonder what plans she had for her relatives. She might even not mind getting shaved in front of them, but i didn’t care much at this point. If they were going to watch, I wouldn’t grudge them that. I hoped they would enjoy the show.

Thursday morning rolled around. After my mom left, I grabbed my straight razor and swapped out the blade in it for a fresh half. I grabbed a fresh blade (for luck) and slipped the lot into my pocket. In five minutes I was knocking on Padmaja’s door. The door opened and it was her neice. “Who is it?” I heard her call from the living room. “[My Name],” she replied. “Come in please,” she invited me in, stepping aside. I walked into the living room.

Padmaja was combing out her sister-in-law’s hair, who was sitting on a stool. “Just five minutes…” she said. I went over to the sofa and sat down. “Can I get you anything?” her niece asked me. “Just water please,” I said. She got some cold water from the fridge and brought it up. She looked about nineteen years old, and was wearing a light green salwar and jeans. As she walked away, I got a look at her hair: up in a messy bun that made it very difficult to guess the length. I sipped the water and watched Padmaja braiding her sister-in-law’s hair.

“Rekha, will you please go get that green pouch from the bathroom? And your uncle’s beard trimmer? It is plugged into the charger,” she instructed her niece. I was tempted to tell her to leave the trimmer alone, but I decided to let it slide. Rekha came back in a few moments with the pouch and put it on the kitchen table. “Vijay, this is Radhika, my sister in law,” said Padmaja introducing her sister in law. I walked over and said hello. She looked at me and gave me a smile. She looked to be about five to six years older than Padmaja. “I hope you don’t mind shaving her too?” she asked.

My heart leaped. Two of them in one day? Who would refuse? “Well…” I drawled. “Come on, don’t be an ass. It wont take too long anyway,” she said. “Okay.” I agreed. She gave me a smile and went back to braiding. She finished up in a few moments and tied off the end with an elastic band. “Well, all yours,” she said. She opened the pouch that Rekha had brought in and began to remove the contents. Safety razor, blades, shaving brush, cream and scissors. Radhika got up from the stool and sat on the floor facing it. The same way Padmaja had done the last time. I sat down on the stool .

“Anything to use to cover?” I asked her. “Nope. Just go ahead,” replied Padmaja. I shrugged my shoulders and held my hand out for the scissors. She handed them to me with a smile. I picked up Radhika’s plait and bent her head forward and down. She would probably have been shaved several times as she obediently bent her head. She kept her head down as I gently pulled her braid firm and started to cut it. “Thanks for helping out,” said Padmaja. “That’s okay. No problem.” I replied cutting away at her hair. “Her husband is also working in the same department as my husband you know, in [city a few hours away] and because of the audit, he couldn’t get time off. So I asked her to come down here. Sorry I sort of sprung this on you the last minute.” I just smiled, hacking away at the thick plait as my victim kept her head down. About a minute later her braid came free. It wasn’t as thick as Padmaja’s but I wasn’t complaining. I handed the cut braid to Padmaja and she gave me a comb and made Radhika sit with her back to me.

I scooted a little close to her, and tipped her head forward. She bent her head and I started to crop her hair. Pushing up chunks of hair and cropping it short. She kept her head down and she was holding still as hair rained into her lap and all over her shoulders. Even though I had done this once before, this was getting to be pretty exciting for me. I just wanted to look at Padmaja’s face when I pulled out the straight razor. I continued to crop her hair short and was getting to the top. “Auntie, shall I do your hair?” I heard Rekha ask. “No dear, he’ll be done pretty soon,” replied Padmaja, “Get some water though, he’ll need it soon.”

“Make it warm water, Rekha,” I added. She went off in the direction of the bathroom and soon came back with a mug of water. I tested it with a finger and it was fairly warm. Padmaja handed me the trimmer but I smiled, instead starting to wet Radhika’s 1/2 inch fuzz of hair.Once I got her head wet I had her turn around to face me. Then,I pulled out the razor from my pocket. I saw Padmaja’s eyes widen as I tipped her sister in law’s head forward. I made a clean stroke down from the crown of her head to her forehead, clearing an inch wide strip. I started working to the left turning her head and shaving away the stubble. Small bits of wet hair rained on the hair already piled on her lap. She turns her head to assist me as I continue to scrape her head clean, slowly and carefully. I finish the top, pull her head down all the way and start on her back, scraping away the hair neatly. I slowly work my way down to her shoulders, cleaning up the last of the stubble. Wiping the blade clean I check her over and clean up some stubble around and behind her ears that I missed.

“Done?” she asks. “Yep,” I said and she got up shaking out the hair from her saree. “Okay, I’ll go take a bath Padma,” she said and went out of the room. Padmaja was now sitting on the stool. “Good job with the razor. But please be careful,” she said. I smiled and pulled her bun loose. Gathering her hair I took the offered comb and started to comb her hair out slowly. Rekha came over to watch. “Rekha, are you going to offer your hair as well?” she asked. “No auntie, not me,” she said. “May I plait your hair auntie?” she asked again.

“Well, ask the barber,” she replied, “my hair is now in his hands.” Rekha looked at me, unsure as to what to ask. I smiled at her combing her aunt’s hair, held firmly at the base of the neck. I run the comb a few more times through her hand and the hold out the comb to her. She smiled, took the comb and her aunt’s hair. She continued to comb her hair and then started to plait it, neat and tight. It was fun watching her work. There was a bit of a strange expression on her face. I realized that she loved doing her aunt’s hair and she wont be able to do it anytime soon. Her eyes wandered over to the table where her mom’s cut plait was lying. She took a deep breath and continued. Pretty soon she finished it and tied off the end. She pulled it gently and pressed it into shape.

“Done.” she said with a bit of a finality to her voice. Padmaja got up and sat on the floor, in the middle of the hair that had fallen off her sister-in-law’s head. I reached behind her for her plait. She smiled and bent her head. Rekha handed me the scissors and was watching closely as I pulled her head closer and down. I adjusted my grip and put the scissors to it.I looked at Rekha. She was looking at me as I started to cut the plait, slowly. Long leisurely bites from the scissors as I cut through her plait. Rekha picked up the end of the plait as I continued to cut. She had a sad, yet slightly interested look as I cut off the plait and handed it to her. She held it in her hands for a few moments, stroking it and feeling it, before laying out beside her mom’s plait.

Padmaja meantime, had turned to sit with her back to me, scooting backwards. She had already bent her head while I took the comb from Rekha and started to crop her hair. For the second time that afternoon hair was raining as I cropped her short. Rekha stood close watching the cropping as hair fell all over her aunt’s lap, shoulders and floor. The door opened and Radhika came out. “Rekha, why don’t you get shaved as well?” she asked. “Seriously mom? No!” exclaimed Rekha. I smiled inwardly as I continued to crop her. Slowly the mop shrunk and fell into her lap as I worked away. After I cut the last of her hair, I rubbed my hand over the stubble.

Rekha picked up the mug and held it out to me as I started to wet her aunt’s head. Once I was done, she turned to face me, ready to meet the razor. I swapped out the blade with a half of the new one (thanking myself I brought one more.) I tipped her head forward again. “Careful,” I heard her whisper. Then I started to shave her. I followed the same pattern with Padmaja as well. Cleared a patch from the crown to the forehead and then followed it up working down her left side, back and finally the right side. Small pieces of wet hair started to rain down on the hair lying in her lap as I shaved off the stubble. I was slow and careful now that I had an audience watching me as well.

She was just as obedient as she was the first time I had shaved her, and I was seriously hoping that she wasn’t crying this time as well. I worked carefully cleaning her up and then checking her for missed spots. After cleaning her up she got up with a smile, shaking the hair out of her saree. Then she walked over to the table and picked up both plaits. She smiled and put them down. “Thanks for everything.” she said. I was feeling elated. This day had turned out much better than I had hoped to be. Making my farewells, I left the women to their baldness and went home.

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After an hour, I realized I’d left the razor behind…