Geetanjali Krishna: The all new barber caste

PEOPLE LIKE THEM

When I went to my usual beauty salon to get my hair trimmed the other day, I was disappointed to find Dilip, the fellow who normally cuts my hair, not there. "But Sudeep's here," said the lady behind the desk, "he's also very good "" he's Dilip's brother." Since I just needed a simple trim, I submitted to Sudeep's scissors meekly. He wielded his scissors as expertly as his brother, and I remember thinking that perhaps his hair cutting skills were genetic.

A month later, I took my daughter Anusha to the same salon for her hair cut. "Sudeep has just stepped out, and Dilip isn't back from his village "" but try Sandeep, he's their nephew." Sandeep was slightly raw, but the way he deftly held his scissors, and the little flourish with which he brushed Anusha's hair led me to believe he too had the family gene.

Was it design or destiny that had drawn three men from the same family into the same trade, I asked him. Sandeep smiled, "I must correct you here "" there are seven of us from the same family who cut hair!" They belonged to Agra, he said. "My grandfather, father and uncles originally worked in a shoe factory there," he explained.

Like most other boys in smaller towns, Sandeep and his uncles grew up flying kites and playing cricket. "None of us ever understood the virtue of an education, not even my grandfather." The fact that none of his family managed to clear the class ten board examinations, thus, came as no shock to anyone.

The shock came when the shoe factory shut down. Sandeep's father and younger brothers tried to get jobs elsewhere but failed. "There were no good jobs available for any of them since they hadn't completed their schooling," he said, "and I was also not interested in studies."

Then Dilip, his uncle, decided to try his luck in Delhi. He found that some of the best jobs for people like him who had no education but goods hands and a quick brain, were in beauty salons. So, he joined as a lowly helper who had to swab, clean, shine "" and by sheer hard work, soon rose in the hierarchy to the post of chief pedicurist. "Then he invested Rs 20,000 in a good course in hair cutting. That's when his career took off!"

Once he was doing well, Dilip called his brothers to Delhi. With their naturally steady hands, pleasing demeanour and most importantly, Dilip's contacts, all managed similar jobs. "We saw how well my uncle was doing, and realised that good hair cutters are in the maximum demand "" they earn the most and get great tips too!" said Sandeep.

They were so convinced that they were on to a good thing that when Sandeep's sister got married, the brothers sponsored the bridegroom's fees for the same course in dowry. "Today, I'm working with my uncles, and my brother-in-law cuts hair in a fancy salon in Vasant Vihar, in keeping with the family tradition," said Sandeep proudly.

What a family, I ruminated, I'd never heard of so many people in one family engaged in the same trade. Wait a minute, of course I had! I asked delicately what their family's traditional occupation had been. "Oh so you thought we all belonged to the old barber caste?" laughed Sandeep. "We don't, actually. We were potters traditionally, although none of my family has ever touched clay or fired a kiln as far as I know."

Watching him strut off to yet another client flaunting his shiny scissors and introducing himself as the famous Dilip's nephew, I ruminated that maybe what I was seeing was the birth of an all new barber caste.