US Return!

I was sitting on one of the two hot chairs, wondering how to make my hair-cutting session less boring. I was unwilling to listen to the lame attempt at a spoof on Sun TV while looking at the wall and posing for my hair-dresser. Just then, I saw the mirror and a balding sixty-odd year old man wearing a loose green polo and a pair of cargo shorts filled the hot seat next to mine. His hair had grown wildly and he obviously hadn't visited the barbers' for months.

“Welcome sir! Short? Or Medium?” enquired the other hair-dresser who had been in my locality for well over 10 years now and knew me by my name and even knew where I was studying. A jolly fellow he was and he was entertaining his customer with perfect hospitality. He seemed to know him too.

“When did you return from the US, sir?” he asked.

I could see pride in the old man’s face as he replied “Last morning! Still having jet-lag!” he said. I really doubted he was having any jet-lag considering he was at the barber’s at 7:30 in the morning and looked all fresh and energetic, just like any sixty year old would on a bright Sunday morning. 

“What is that sir?” enquired the hair-dresser.

“See... Basicallyyyyy...” started the old man in his sugar dipped south Indian accent, going on to explain the phenomenon of jet-lag.

There were many more “See… Basicallyyyyy”s to come in the following ten minutes explaining “the Great American Life” and I wasn’t complaining, it was more fun and original than the show on Sun TV. Then came the point where the hair-dresser wanted to shave the old man’s sideburns with a blade.

“They never use blades there” said the old man “they always use machines. They press a button and just swipe across the head a couple of times and that’s it. It hardly takes them 5 minutes. Only here does it take a lot of time.” He complained. The hair-dresser calmly continued his work and kept humming a tune.

And as my hair dresser pulled a blade out of the drawer, the old man got up from his chair and turned to his hair-dresser. He was done and looking so much smarter. 

“Thank you! How much?” he asked. 

“I wouldn’t ask too much, just give me half the money you would have given for a hair-cutting in the US, sir!” said the hair-dresser. I was gently giggling to myself.

“What atrocity?!” exclaimed the old man “ I paid an equivalent to Rs.1000 there!!”

“Then it’ll be Rs. 500, sir!” said the hair-dresser “for a personalized hair-cutting, using no equipment other than my own hands, a pair of scissors and a blade.”

The old man looked baffled as he opened his wallet and handed him a 500 rupee note. The hair-dresser took it and for a moment, he grinned at me through the mirror knowing that I was observing the whole interaction. Then, he returned 450 rupees to the old man.

He then addressed the old man with a proud smile, "Sir! India always cheap and best, sir!!"