Relationships beyond routine tasks

Who called them barbers? With the generations we have refined our professional taglines. Personally, I love ‘stylists’ compared to ‘hairdressers.’ My first encounter with a Professional hairstylist was in Kolkata, AN John salon in Park Street. Soft-spoken, Suave, and extremely talented Khurshid Alam was my favorite, he gave me a stylish wedge a la Leonardo, a Top Gun close crop to a trendy summer crew cut for a princely sum of thirty rupees, from 1993 to 1996. He had quit his job to set up a small salon near Esplanade in Kolkata, and I had traced him to a four seater shop in a narrow lane behind New Cinema (an old movie theatre in Kolkata) for a haircut. He didn’t have a hair clipper; he just used a small comb and a pair of scissors to give me my desired haircut. He had charged me twenty rupees and had offered me a soft drink. Alam went to Dubai to join a job later, and I was sad to have lost touch with him. I went back to AN John in the interim, but no one could match his warmth.

In the early 2000, I met a septuagenarian stylist in a Salon named Wakil’s in Lansdowne Road, Kolkata. He had technically retired from Hotel Oberoi Grand, but the owner of Wakil’s (Wakilbhai was a very talented himself) had re-employed him for a select set of patrons in his salon, and I was one of those lucky few. Hussain was his name. He used to give me haircuts straight out of Vogue magazine, imagine sporting a ‘high top’ haircut in 2004. I still remember his loving touch on my scalp, his caring nature and his flashing smile after accomplishing one more of his masterpieces with a squinted vision. He didn’t have a reading glass. One Sunday morning of 2005, I visited the salon for a haircut, sipped my black coffee in the plush reception area, walked up confidently to my regular chair, but felt a different touch on my hair. It was young Nizam in his 20s, Hussain’s disciple. His eyes watered, somehow managed to speak through his tears, ‘Hussain uncle died last week of a heart attack, he didn’t suffer, he went in his sleep.’ That evening I had visited a small burial ground in Jaannagar area of Kolkata, found out a specific grave with a makeshift headstone, prayed quietly and left a few yellow roses there.

Come 2010, My entire family used to visit Tushar Malik’s salon in a shopping mart in DLF, Gurgaon. Tushar could make any lady blush after a haircut with his sheer mastery, I’ve seen my wife so happy to visit a salon, as if she visited a family friend every time. Tushar called (he still does :) ) all his lady customers ‘baby’, and they’re just fine with it. Tushar had treated me with many coffees and chicken momo on the house during my long weighting time reading books in his lobby area during my wife’s haircuts and hair coloring sessions.

Zooming to 2020, the salons had all closed down for business in the Quarter 2. A French chain of Salons rose up to the occasion by sending their specialists to home. Jean Claude Biguine in Bangalore had launched an initiative named JCB at Home. Our family favourite was Ron, and he used to take an Uber to come to our North Bangalore residence all the way from his salon which was 15km away. We converted our guest bathroom to a makeshift salon, and every two months Ron used to give three haircuts in a row for all three of us, clean and sanitize the floor before he left the premises. During pre-COVID days, people would have waited for a fortnight to get a haircut from Ron or would have merrily participated in a lucky draw (no pun intended). Samir Srivastav, the charismatic, erudite CEO has made JCB an enviable team and institution (also the preferred poaching ground of competition brands). He believes in genuine collaborations with both local & global brands in the beauty and wellness space. I’m yet to meet Samir personally, but I’m doubly sure that we have lots in common to share when we meet.

Now coming to my present location, Manali. There’s a nondescript lane on the mall road, a little GPS assistance took me to First Cut salon. A young stylist in a black denim and a black apron welcomed me to my seat, offered me a bottled water, took me to the sink for a complimentary hair wash, A 30 minutes haircut, a mini head massage, all for Rs. 200/-. I tried to scan the QR code to pay, but it didn’t work. Airtel had a network outage in my area yesterday, in a split-second Ankit the stylist took my phone, activated the hotspot through his phone and gave it back to me. I gently patted his back and scanned the code to pay for his exemplary service.?