Getting rid of my already scarce hair is the least productive task
for me. Especially, at home, when I am at total peace with the big, bad
world. Repitive threats(is ghar ke darwaze tumhare liye hamesha ke liye
band ho jayenge) and humble requests(kitna sundar beta tha mera, ab
rakshas jaisa lagta hai) from my mother , don't do any good. But, a
quick reminder from my sister-"Aaj chhath hai, shaam me bahut saari
ladkiyaan bhi aayengi ghat par" got my nerves ticking. Placing my
energy-broke, letharigc body on my scooty, I was en route the famous
"Chhedi nai ki dukaan".
After placing myself comfortably in the creeky, wooden chair, which
was rude to my ass, I explained him in Hindi-'side se chhota kar
dijiyega'. After ages of 'salp-salp cut maadi', it felt good.In joyous
fit, I gave him few more instructions and went to slumber. Suddenly, I
realized "Sweeney Todd-the demon barber of fleet street" wielding his
blood-dripping razor in front of me. Before, I can plead for mercy, I
was woken up by the calm voice of Chhedi-"Sir, shave kar de?" I swayed
my fingers over my beard in Prem Chopra style-"I love you so much honey.
But I'm not too sure whether chicks dig for you or not. To be on safer
side, I've to bid farewell to you". Instead of waiting for my response,
the barber had begun with his mowing act.
After Chhedi was done, I got up to give my already numb ass , much
needed rest and head back to home. "sir, aaj to mangalwar hai, bajrang
bali ka din! aapke balishtha bhujaon ki aisi maalish kar dete hai ki
hanuman jee bhi khush ho jayenge"Strong! I gave a slanted look to my
biceps, flexed it and gave a self-appreciating, Chandler grin"
Signalling a go-ahead, he pounced upon me like a monster, as if I was
his age old enemy in wrestling arena, twisting and turning my body parts
at all possible angles. Whole action lasted for around 15 min, during
which my ears were twisted, chest was punched, neck was rotated full
monty and what not. And I am not complaining. For a software engineer,
who is accustomed of sitting whole day in stupid rotating chair, it felt
like a boon. After finishing up his job, Chhedi admiringly stared at me
for 2 long minutes, as if I was his creation and he's so content with
it. He demanded 100 bucks from me, to which I willingly obliged. "Huh,
Bangalore would have extorted at least 200 bucks for such a service."
Proudly, I narrated this incident to one of my neighbor, to which he
smilingly quipped-"Apna wahi chamkeela half-pant pehen kar gaye hoge.
Bangalore ka dude samajh kar duguna paisa vasool liya ee chhediya!" I
looked at his skinny figure and then at my flexed biceps and murmured
"services are charged based on subject"
