HairSnip.com

Navjot’s Dream

Navjot was ecstatic after the response to her dramatic change in haircut. She was wondering how she would maintain the style. Regular visits to the barber for tidying up were going to be problem. A couple of days after her flattop, the sandpaper feel was excellent and eagerly enjoyed being felt all over by  Sroop, her son and Karan, her husband. But later she was surprised how irritated she felt when she found water sticking onto her head after her bath every morning. The nape area hair grew into a soft brush and even Karan could not go beyond the shaving every three days, a volunteer job that he took up in great enthusiasm. But there seemed no way out. It was lost in these deep thoughts that she seemed to have drifted off into a slumber and into a dream she narrated to Karan when he came back from work. And believe me she thoroughly enjoyed the dream and wanted it to convert to in reality.

And now for Navjot’s own words.

I felt as if I had been transported to our town in India. It was more than 16 weeks since my ultra short style and my hair had grown all over. And I was mentally ready to realize my childhood fantasy of a clippered boy cut for myself. And am I happy fantasizing!

Even though Karan had actually asked me to shave off my head and keep it that way, unknown to him I had different plans.

I divulged to him that I am growing out the hair so that I could have my dream boy cut – and he was helping me go get it. He was not pleased but kept quiet and hoped for the best.

One Sunday morning, after a bath, I took my hubby (now he is clean shaven because he has conceded to my request of no moustache) along to the barbershop. It was the same barber shop he used to frequent; also the present barber’s father used to come home to give my f –i – l his regular haircuts and head shaves before my m – i – l took over the routine. I also remember being told that my mother in law, Alka, was his customer at those times she wanted to get the short summer feel. Karan was not in the know of this plan. So the barber was known to us – actually our family barber. My s-i-l, Kiran, had got her headshaves from him earlier and also clippered summer cuts for her children from him when she came for her annual summer vacations. I was taking on the tradition further, sort of.

I was the first customer of the morning, so no waiting and I sat in the chair, anticipation on one hand and nervousness on the other. As the barber draped me with a cloth, two customers entered the shop. I had thought that I could get away before anyone entered. But no such luck. I could see their astonished faces in the mirror. The barber was settling down to his job and asked me as to what I wished for so early in the day. Still nervous, on my first visit to a barber shop in India, but with a smile (these things once decided had to be done with firmness, no running away) and a blushing face, I pointed to about an inch above the top of my ear and said 'machine’ till here and about half inch short all over, about an inch in the front. Machine is a hand held clipper used in all Indian barber shops. They come in two sizes and are used variously to size down the size of the hair on the head. Using a ‘machine’ for ladies haircut is not a regular practice, except when young girls come with their mothers for summer clippings. With a smile he bent my head to the left, placed the teeth of the hand operated clippers in front of my ear and started operating the lever while pushing it up. Oh! I had thought this may pain a little but no. It felt really great. He took it up to a little beyond where I had indicated (with a slope) and almost a bald patch had appeared in front of the right ear. While one of the men had taken a seat for a shave by another barber, the second's jaw had dropped - seeing a lady getting a machine cut.

The barber continued his clipping on the right side - above the ear, behind the ear, and then along the nape. I deliberately avoided seeing the man's face in the mirror, rather saw my husband suppressing a giggle. I decided to enjoy the cut rather and looked down. The barber tilted my head down and clippered the rear side. Another fine feeling! I thought he had gone too high but I had full confidence in the barber that he would do a good job. Then he tilted my head to right, repeated on the left side what he had done on the right side. The small clippings of hair from all over fell onto the white cloth he had draped over me as a cape. Even though the hair growth did not seem much, a whole lot of hair had accumulated onto my lap and some to the floor. I was thoroughly enjoying the performance. Seeing the hair being removed I understood why water was being retained after the bath everyday! The removal of hair was heavenly!

The cluk-cluk noise of the machine sounded like a song to my ears and I thoroughly enjoyed the clippering. Now, he wet my top hair and with scissors and comb started cutting it close. In about 10 minutes he had scissored my top hair neatly to half inch all over with proper slope towards the machined places and slightly longer in front. With difficulty I controlled my own giggle at what I saw in the mirror. A female with a ‘pucca’ boyish cut! How could I blame others if they thought I looked funny? Maybe the two male customers would have a strong story to tell for the whole of their life time. Anyway I was determined that I would go through with it. The head seemed light but maybe it was only psychological. The coolness of the air was being felt all over the head.

The barber asked whether the sides were short enough. I took out my hand from under the sheet, ran my fingers on the back and sides and compared with what I felt on Sroop's head last Wednesday. Having come this far, I thought I would take the plunge and I asked him to make the sides and back more closely clippered. He took a smaller set of hand clippers and clipped the sides and back of my head. He later touched up the transition with comb and scissors. I thought it was all over as the barber took off the cape and dusted off the hair from it. But I was motioned to keep sitting, by the barber. He went to a corner and got the shaving kit. He used the cream on the brush and applied it to the area along my nape and behind the ears. He then got the straight razor, stropped it and very deftly shaved the nape and the area behind the ears, a little high. He also shaped my sideburns into a pointed shape rather than a blunt boy shape. He explained that it should look a little feminine. I got the refreshing feeling when I had gone for the flat top at the parlour. And then he applied a local made after shave lotion/coolant - in local parlance- which made me lose sensation of the shaving burn and of course, provided a cool feeling.

I got out with a blushing face and a smile. My hubby paid the smiling barber. It was much cheaper than the parlour, so near and refreshing – no appointment was another plus. I came home rubbing my clean lower and sandpapery nape and sides and the sharp ends of the freshly scissored top hair. My hubby giggled out loud once out of the shop. I joined him in the giggle. Everyone at home - f-i-l, m-i-l, s-i-l, her kids, Sroop - made fun of me no end. But I had expected this. Of course, all said I did look good, though strange. More different, actually.

By evening I had got used to my own look - what with a strange haircut, ear studs, bindi, sindhoor (just tried it out, b'cos I do not use it regularly), saree. My m-i-l, had her own hair to about one and a quarter inch all over, felt happy to caress different parts of my head for the different feel. She was asking me, jokingly, if she could try out the experience too. Kiran wanted very much to get into ultra short mood but her service rules did not allow her to do so. Being a Lt. Colonel now she was to maintain some decorum and could not go random. She had, however, got her kids hair done short along with Sroop last Wednesday. We were surely an ‘ultra short haired family’.

And all my neighbours also giggled and laughed. One or two made wry faces. But I was determined not to take those things seriously. 

At the Bank, I had a tough time. As it was four months ago, most disapproved while surprisingly some, including the bank manager, told me I really looked good, though strange. Anyway with a lot of dare-devilry, I carried on with customers most of whom gave me strange stares (I could judge from their looks). One young man complimented me on the courage and how neat I looked. But no one objected to work along so no botheration.

Both my in-laws have fully supported my adventure. And my hubby ..... he is really happy. "I never thought that females would look so cute with such a blatantly male hair cut" he said.

And I do not care whether hair pundits call this crew cut, boy cut, fade cut or whatever. I am thoroughly enjoying it.

And intend keeping it this way. 

May the tribe of the barbers increase.

(more on the way.....)

Rate this story now.
5- Excellent 4- Very good 3- Good 2- Needs work 1- Poor  

Enter some comments about this story or see what others have said on the forums.