After a couple of haircuts, I now look like Shrek, or to be more precise, somewhere between a bouncer gone to seed and a wannabe bad guy minus all the piercings.
It all began with a hairstyle I dreamed up. I needed a haircut, and I went to sleep with that thought. The hairstyle I wanted looked good in my dream (really, it did!), and when I woke up and envisaged it, it seemed better! So off I went to Nagamuthu, my trusty barber, and told him about it. He looked highly doubtful, but went ahead with a bit of reluctance when he saw that I was firm. “A short back and sides, with lines on both sides,” I had told him. He did cheer up a bit as this gave him the opportunity to use his newly-acquired trimmer, which hummed like a light-sabre! As he was trimming the sides, he asked me whether i wanted a “step or a slope.” Without really catching the import of the decision, I absently told him to make it a step. In hindsight, this seems to have been the beginning of my nightmare hairdo.
Once the haircut was done, and the lines drawn, two to a side, Nagamuthu combed my hair flat. I put on my spectacles, and though the look in the mirror was not exactly what I had anticipated, it didn’t look too bad. “Give it a couple of days of growth,” I told myself, “and it will be okay.”
Once I got home and shampooed, all hell seemed to break loose. Or at least, it seemed like a few bats, presumably from hell, had been flying around my head, fanning the hair into unruly waves. I fixed it with hair gel the next day, expecting it to stay down after that. The day after that, I looked like Daffy Duck on steroids. I had had enough.
Back I went to Nagamuthu, who whipped out his light-sabre-sounding trimmer with joy, and gave me a Shrek-like haircut. Now I tell everyone that this is a kathiri-cut, after the famed Chennai dog days. But is seems to have cooled down dramatically after that. Or it could be that with all the ventilation my head has been getting, my sense of temperture has just gone awry!