The Barbershops, sorry saloons, opened on May 19th. A big day in the lives of many small people who had grown taller, adding inches as their hair grew through the lockdown. Their locks of hair multiplied and lent themselves to easy pulling in what were despairing times. They did not separate that easily – their roots were strong and attachment to their owners great, and the attempts at rooting out the evils of lockdown only strengthened their resolve to grow longer and stronger. With time they formed an aura across the face, drifting down in curly tales. They had achieved herd immunity!
Sheerlock’s Home, said one spouse when asked on the phone where her husband is and he remained there – no choice.
When the shops opened in right earnest in Lockdown 2, some of the grizzly bears went out, bought scissors, and pointed it at their spouses. Not a good thing to do. Because the next thing they knew, they were made to kneel for a haircut! and the locks were lifted and sheared – but it was more like lawn mowing than a hair cut. Snip Snip… and a quick Nip before they looked into the mirror. The curve had flattened!
But others were not so brave. They knew the locks would have to go someday and so they procrastinated. Until May 19th.
Then they stepped out, gingerly, as if it were an entirely new experience! With trepidation and anticipation as if going for long yearned barbeque.
Arun too did that exactly; he stood in the barber queue, in a chalked out circle, in the hot sun even after a WhatsApp appointment guaranteed entry but didn’t say when. Barbequeued. An unrecognizable face (it was masked but did look a little like Jim Carey!) asked him to stretch out his hands’ palms face up and when asked about his appointment on WhatsApp, was told to await his turn to enter. As he stretched out his palms to facepalm the guy, he quickly sanitized them and moved on not wanting contact with my palms or the virus. He also dropped an unsanitized token in it. Justice at last.
And then, not very soon thereafter, it was his turn to enter, 5th inline after 4 in the shop and 4 already witnessing their transformation in the mirror. They seemed astonished!
Arun entered and looked around for his favorite Scissorhands – Raju Scissorhands – but could not find him. Suddenly he realized, that he might be one of the four gentlemen holding a comb and scissors wearing a mask on the head, face and body like the Roman gladiators did. Arun was glad for him and himself. Both would be safe – that’s what the government said according to the poster pasted on the wall next to the mirror.
Arun recognized Raju Scissorhand’s eyes. They were looking desperate. He was sweating in the heat – despite the whirring fans. The door was closed as a token… gesture to the restricted capacity. Tokens are important for social distancing the poster read.
But Raju too recognized Arun’s eyes – that’s all there was to recognize. He had a hair mask around his face that overshadowed the government-mandated face mask! Raju motioned him to sit in a chair that had just been vacated. But Arun refused and said he must sanitize the seat, lest his bottom is infected!
Raju frowned behind his mask – it showed in his eyes – but began to spray 1% sodium hypochlorite solution like a hypocrite – Only on the armrests. Arun was annoyed but kept quiet. It would not do to irritate a man with scissors in his hands. What if he didn’t sterilize them in Lysol for 30 minutes as written in the poster? But he did – putting the comb, razor, and scissors in a mug of a solution as though it was the solution to COVID19 crisis! Arun had no idea what was in the Mug. All he knew was what was in the poster! Before doing that, Raju removed a previously kept set and rubbed it dry with a cloth, not a paper towel as the poster advised him to do. But by then Arun was developing a co-morbidity of hypertension and so he let it go…
Locks down, all around Arun. What a delight! He felt so much lighter. But wait who is this guy in the mirror? Arun wondered as he looked up from his bowed position. A Mitron? Nah, it was 11 in the morning not 8 at night! As recognition dawned, he remembered he must wear an identification mark as he returned home – else he would be denied entry like the salesman that he was!
Finally, he was comfortable in his own hair! And he took out his Pre COVID 80 Rupees to pay Raju. Raju waved his hands and said loudly through his mask – it’s 160. Why asked Arun innocently. Look at all this, Raju said waving the scissors at him. Arun quickly lightened his wallet.
