Academy Haircut True Story

I remember this true story happened sometime in the year was 1987 and it was a Sunday, because when I got down from the train, there were not many people on the railway platform. I walked out of the railway station and wanted to take a bus to the Academy. Not many people were there on the roads and the shops were mostly shut that day.

I somehow took a taxi and reached the Naval Academy. The guard room sailor gave me a paper sheet with instructions on it and told me to follow him, as he walked me into a barrack. I had a trunk full of clothing, shoes, tie, belt etc., which the academy joining instruction wanted me to carry. Those days steel trunks were in fashion when you travel. My trunk was fairly heavy, but the sailor didn't help me carry it.

The handle of the box almost severed my fingers as I dragged it for over a few hundred meters till the barracks. I kept changing hands every few seconds cursing this sailor silently all through, for the next 300 meters. On reaching the barracks, the sailor told me to choose a bed for myself out of the 16 cots there and left. I selected a bed below a ceiling fan.

After keeping my trunk down inside the barracks, I looked at my palms. The thin handle of my 50 kg trunk had cut a red and blue clear line in my palms which were painful. Then I looked at the bottom edge of my trunk which I was dragging on the road all this while. It hurt my hand as I touched it. It was super-hot due to the friction I generated dragging it on the road.

Although, it had become thin at one bottom edge, it was not completely damaged. Those days, suite cases were certainly available, although they were very costly. But my Academy call letter had stated a trunk to be brought along with a lock and key.

The Sikh Cadet Story

Out of 16 beds in that old barrack, just one was occupied by a cool Sikh cadet wearing a turban. He seem to have been living there for a long time. He was reading a novel and didn't even bother to look at me, a new arrival.

I looked around and saw a notice placed on the door through which I had entered. I went and looked at it. It was a list of instructions for those who are arriving at the Academy. The first order in the list was, to take a haircut. I had good hair. I am a Christian, yet I loved sporting that look with my beard, moustache and long hair, which I did not know had such a short life.

I went up to the Sikh cadet, with the instruction leaflet in my hand and introduced myself. The cadet said his name is A Singh. I asked him if no one else, other than the two of us have joined. He said that he had joined the previous day and many who had come that day had just gone for taking haircut. So, I asked him the location of barbershop.

A Sikh is a person belonging to the Sikh religion. They wear a turban on their head as well as keep moustache and beard. They don't have to take a haircut or shave their beard, because long hair, beard and moustache is allowed in Sikh religion. It is their identity.

He did not just tell me the general direction of the Barber shop. In fact, he told me the route in so much detail as to where all I should turn and how many steps I should take before each turn, till I reach the barber shop, which is just 60 yards away at the d of the same building, making me feel as if I am blind man taking instruction from him.

The Haircut True Story

I left my trunk there telling A Singh to look after it, even though it was locked and I walked to the barbershop, counting my steps, and turning, as instructed by him. There was a long queue there waiting for the barber to turn up. I found out from some Cadets, that the barber had gone for tea at 10:30 am and will be back at 11:00 am, pointing at the working hours written on the door of the barbershop.

Even the barber here is so disciplined, I thought and patiently waited for my turn after some 50 odd guys in the queue, waiting for haircut. My turn came in just about an hour. The Barber was too fast and took just about a minute or two to cut each newly joined cadet's hair to the size the Academy wanted. It was as good as shaving the Cadet's head.

I sat on the Barber shop throne when my turn came. This Barber’s chair was made of leather which was torn at every inch, with foam sticking out of each tear and even had both its rear legs broken and replaced by a stack of bricks.

The barbershop mirror was so old that it could show only parts of one's face as the mercury coating on its rear side had worn out badly. So I asked the bald barber chewing paan, "Why don’t you change this chair".

Paan is beetle leaf with some Tobacco and Areca nut in it, which is chewed by a lot of people especially the old ones, in these parts of the country.

The Barber replied smiling, displaying his paan rusted teeth, "What do you want to see, Sir?"

I didn't really understand what he said. So I did not answer him. But, I felt elated being addressed as Sir, even though he was only by a barber.

Despite all the resistance I had put up, he cut all my lovely hair, rather shaved off my hair, my baby beard and mustache in a few seconds, to a length of just about 4 or 5 millimeters length each hair. On the sides no hair was visible now.

Even after putting up a short physical fight with him, the old man managed to completely shave off my moustache which stood as a reflection of my manhood. It was all over in two minutes. I felt like I have been put through an electric chair.

After haircut I came back and started opening my trunk. That is when A Singh shouted at me reflecting some anger, "Hey, leave that trunk alone. He is gone for a hair cut will be back soon."

I turned and looked at A Singh, not knowing why he was shouting at me, when I am opening my own trunk, which I had trusted him to guard. In fact, he himself had told me the way to the barber shop.

After he said that, as I looked at him in surprise. A Singh too stared at me equally surprised for about 5 seconds silently and then said, "Sorry” and continued reading his novel lying on his bed.

A few seconds later, I caught him staring at me again, in some sort of disbelief this time. I ignored him and went to take bath. As I looked at the mirror, it was my turn to be surprised once again.

In the bathroom mirror, I saw the reflection of a complete stranger, I had never met in my life before.

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