In my time, when we used to go for a haircut, it was simple, no questions, no complexities, easier and faster.
In sainik (military) school days, you would wear a beret, and any hair outside the beret was gone. Within the beret, everything was completely trimmed. Five minutes, and you were done. The barber was happy, and you were happier.
Outside school, still easy. You’d go into a barber shop, wait in a queue, and when your turn came, you’d sit on a chair—not too comfortable, but good enough to sit for 10-15 minutes.
You’d tell the barber “short” or “medium” (just a word or two). No eye contact, no smiles, no courtesies—just a couple of words. And as soon as those words came out, the barber would start. For the next 10-15 minutes, you could close your eyes, listen to the songs, and when you opened them, your haircut would be done.
Today, it’s scary. You book an appointment, sit on a very comfortable double sofa, and yet, you’re not comfortable. The scariest part is still to come—the barber.
The barber comes in smiling, and you have to smile back, make eye contact, and then the interview process begins. First, you need to explain what you want: haircut, shaving, or some other trimming service I don’t even know about.
As soon as you say “haircut,” the barber divides your hair into three sections—sides, middle, and edges. Then comes the barrage of questions:
- “What number do you want for the sides?”
- “How much should I take off the middle?”
- “To what length should I trim the edges?”
I try to bypass this by saying, “Make it short and don’t ask questions.” But the barber gets confused and uncomfortable. He slows down, stalls the haircut, and then asks again, “If I make it short in the middle, it might look bad.”
Now you start feeling bad for the barber and say, “Don’t worry, just cut it.” But he still worries.
Meanwhile, 20 minutes have passed. I’m thinking, “Why did I come for a haircut? I should have come another day.” But it’s always the same story.
After 30 minutes of struggle, when he finally says, “It’s done,” I check my hair by running my hand through the middle of my head, and it still feels long. I’m pissed off—not just because it’s longer than I wanted, but also because the longer it is, the sooner I’ll have to come back to this hell.
Even shaving comes with a bunch of questions: trimming the mustache, trimming the sides, and so on.
Haircuts today reflect so many life choices—too many options & questions but no satisfaction. Sometimes, it’s better to have no choice at all. Just one path, and you live with it. At least then, you’d have peace.