on women’s day I got in touch with what is supposed to be my feminine side.. spoilt myself rotten with a haircut, shave, face massage and head massage at the local barbersop.. . i have been going there since i was about a foot tall-'twin parlour' they call it.. and though i dont know any of their names all of the barbers seem to know me too..
what a wonderful place this is.. reflections of reflections of men pointing down with their chins checking their ‘do’s, pampering themselves.. something happens to their faces when they look at themselves in the mirror- they suddenly become aware of their own vanities and perhaps slightly embarrassed by them because in this excessively male space they perhaps are misplaced..
but then on the other hand what is the barbershop if not the perfect place for a man to enjoy the pleasures that his body can give him, and that too in complete public view.. our version of the roman baths(?).. though instead of smoky misty tiled floors we have mirrors, white light, white sunmica and the india-pakistan match on tv- which we can hear but not watch because our heads are busy performing all kinds of contortions on our necks in the able hands of a swarthy middle aged man…
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