The quick and the dyed

At the Adyar Park Hotel is this barbershop called Salon 2000, herein works the Wizard of Click. The Wizard's real name is Selvam and he is known as the Wizard because he had in about 25 years of his career made men feel fantastic about their average mane. He was especially good with bald and balding men. They flock to him in droves and to get an appointment with the most famous pair of scissors this side of the vindhyas requires a lot of patience and to the true connoisseur of haircuts it is worth the wait.

What makes him special, you ask. It's the experience, the time spent, the exquisite detailing and the eventual execution of it all transcends this from a mere haircut to be a work of art. With the Wizard hovering around you, his scissors clicking away you become, rather your head becomes a canvas for him to create.

I've noticed that with bald men most of the clickety click with the hair actually produces very little amount of cut hair but it is a soothing experience nevertheless, hair therapy has a lot to do with perception I guess. Now I'm not bald or anything mind you but I do have a tiny piece of real estate that is barren up there. And to me the once a month visit to the Wizard brings not only the comfort that my hair is cut to perfection but also the heavenly experience of a head massage right after the haircut. Trust me there are a few things that words can't describe and one of them is the head massage ( it's in the same league as my Mom's chicken curry or a rerun of Return of the Jedi).

Last week in eager anticipation of the fantastic experience I trickled over to the aforementioned barbershop, having been lucky to have gotten an appointment. The Wizard was still with his previous customer, so I spent the time going through some film magazines, in the absence of any else to do. In thirty minutes I was pretty engrossed on who's going out with whom and who was divorcing whom and finally my turn was up. As I sauntered in the sight of a figure laying back on the barber's chair with his eyes closed sent shock waves through me. I felt like I had just walked into a crime scene.

To the curious onlooker it would have seemed like a man lying with his eyes closed getting his hair dyed. Hey, there's nothing wrong with that, you think. But to me he has been the reason for most of my hair insecurities . For the past 4 years this man, a business associate, every time we meet would find reasons to pick on my few grey strands (figuratively speaking) and tell me that I was actually older than him (he is 53 to my 32). He would thrust his gelled up lush black hair in my face (figuratively speaking) and proudly claim that he lead a 'no tension' life. His tone would reek of condescension and bad breath (not figuratively). You guys don't know how to handle stress, he would say.

As I stood there staring, he opened his eyes as if alerted by instinct and shock spread over his features. In my mind though, two emotions fought with each other, one said I had to be pissed off with the guy and the other said I hadda smirk. So eventually with a smirking pissed off face, I said 'hi'. He smiled, being completely embarrassed, he mumbled "You came here for a haircut?" (No Einstein, I come here to read film magazines). The look in his face said it all, this bunny knew he was caught in a headlight. Or more like a tormenter caught with his pants down. I just nodded and smiled, enjoying his obvious discomfort.

The Wizard was holding a chair waiting for me so I walked over to it and settled down. After a few how do you dos and how's your families the Wizard and I settled down to work at hand. Him being the clicker and me the clickee.

The Wiz noticing the dye job happening and turned my chair around to face that chair. He asked me if I would like to get my hair dyed and told me that I had few more grey hairs than the last time. He had me worried.

The bunny next chair turned his head and looked at me. His eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he stared at me in anticipation of my answer. Much like Darth Vader waiting for Luke to join the ole Dark Side bandwagon.

I looked at him unblinkingly.

Tension filled the air. As I squinted at him, he was waiting for me to say yes but I had to shut him down, I just had to. I told the Wizard that I liked the few whites in my hair just the way it was.

Just as soon as the impasse started, it ended. The bunny had lost, he would never rub that lush (fake) black hair on my nose again (figuratively speaking). The Wizard resumed clicketting and I closed my eyes and wafted slowly into heaven.

(Note : Ok so this post didn't go so well. I reread the piece and found it crappy but hey everything goes, right? :P )