My Barber

If you think that this post might culminate towards the review of a so-called movie about Billu Barber, then you are wrong. Although after seeing the trailers, i somehow remembered my barber at my home town. And then i really wanted to write a post about my barber whom i met when i went home 2 months back. Well, the meeting was an emotional one. Not that we had tears in our eyes, but our hearts were heavy. Mine was surely and i could make out his was too.

The story goes back 15 years back. When i moved to my current hometown (a small place) 15 years back, there was only one barber in the entire township. (Yeah now you know how small a place it might have been). And the city was not that near. So nobody dared to goto the city and get a hair cut escpecially when you are in school and not such a style freak. So, it started with my first hair cut during the 1994 winters and it became a routine almost every month from then on. Initially, I did not interact with my barber as well as his other family members who worked at the shop. Then as i grew up and became conscious of my hair, I started telling him to cut my hair in a particular way. For example, longer at the front and shorter at the back and side area. It was the beginning of an association that is still alive in our hearts. Whenever my father used to go to him, he used to ask about me. During those times, my hair was a bit like Shoaib Akhtar (fast bowler) and i used to play cricket a lot. So all my friends used to say that this guy bowls like Shoaib and his hair looks like that too (Shoaib was a good bowler those days). Although my barber never knew what my friends used to say, he suddenly one day said that my hair looked like Shoaib Akhtar. Whenever i went to him for a hair cut, we used to discuss cricket a lot.

Then came the time when i moved to another city in order to attend college and whenever i came home, I used to make it a point to go and meet him. He used to ask my father a lot of times about my holidays and when would i be in town. After finishing college and starting as a professional, my trips to home got reduced somewhat and I skipped meeting him for 2 or 3 times over a span of 3 years. I used to think that if i dont have to get a hair cut, then why should i go to his shop. That was so selfish. I realized later that what a loser i was. The realization came 2 months back, when i went home and my father persuaded me to meet him this time. I felt so bad inside that i did not meet him over the last 3 years and would be doing that now. I went and the meeting was so overwhelming. I had mixed feelings. I felt bad and at the same time I felt so good to relive the past days at my hometown. I talked to him for half an hour and wanted to talk more. He had lots of questions for me. Like how is life in a city, what do you do in free time, where do you get a hair cut, how is US like etc.
It feels so good that you know people who are so kind, so caring and full of love. And there is some learning for me here. It reminds me of the Tata Safari dicor ad where it asks "If you looked back on your life, what would you remember ?".