An ode to chirpy barbers

Ioften wonder where the simple and friendly (often over-friendly!) barbers, naai, hajjaam have gone. In this age of extreme political correctness and social euphemisms, a cook has become a chef, a tailor is now called a sartorial expert or a dress designer, and a barber is a hair-stylist. With their ascension on social and professional scales, they too have become quite professional, unlike the barbers of yore who would whisper into your ears all the canards, gossips, rumours and spicy tit-bits, and you would willingly or unwillingly (because your precious head is literally in his hands!) hear all those interesting as well as insipid pieces of information. Most of the erstwhile barbers were exaggerated but irresistible raconteurs. They had a cornucopia of never-ending tales. I used to visit an old barber’s shop for a haircut when I was in Allahabad. He would unfailingly tell all the customers in his typical Avadhi-Hindi that a megastar, hailing from Allahabad, would always get a haircut from him when he used to reside in the city. No prize for guessing who that megastar was! But then, many old barbers of the city narrated the same (old) story and claimed to give a haircut to the would-be star! Alas, today’s hair-stylists talk in English and are irritatingly matter-of-fact. Furthermore, they charge so exorbitantly that one feels like donning the appearance of a sanyasi with long and dishevelled tresses and a flowing beard.

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In the good old days, one would get to see glossy film magazines like Mayapuri, Madhuri and Stardust at every salon. The scoops in those magazines would be animatedly, nay religiously, discussed at a barber’s shop. Most of the barbers were ‘discerning’ film critics, vivisecting all new flicks like a seasoned reviewer! In fact, their fondness for cinema and cinestars was matchless. Those were pre-Internet days.

The Sanskrit word for a barber is naapit and its Arabic equivalent is hajjaam. Both words originated from the same roots, naap and haaj, and these connote a common meaning — ‘to reveal’ and ‘to measure’. No wonder, barbers would reveal a legion of revelations and would often be justifiably called the BBC of a town or village. ‘Whose daughter eloped with whom’ used to be their hobby horse. It was their favourite refrain to begin with. Many of them were politically very savvy, rather knowledgeable, and would often double up as psephologists during the polls! They were much more accurate and also profound than today’s suited-booted political observers commenting on political trends in a put-on accent.

Alack! Gone are those days of affable and amicable barbers one would look forward to visiting and gleefully shedding locks of hair with a sense of joyous satisfaction. The era of innocence has paved the way for an astute commercial sense.