livin' la vida loca

(written sometime in Dec 2002)

How often are you out of control? I mean can you ever recall a situation where you can't do anything about what's being done to you and in fact any action you take could lead to disastrous results to you? I can recall several and most of them have come in a saloon..yup..ever stop to think how much ur hands are tied when a tiny wisp ,of what was till a moment ago attached to ur head, tries to get into your mouth ..well as disgusting as this thought is, even more frustrating is the fact that you can't do much abt it..you tilt ur head in whatever angle the barber asks you to and you can't ward off a friendly housefly with a nod of ur head bcos you dont want to risk living with half a earlobe for the rest of ur life.
    Due to unavoidable circumstances my hair had been allowed to grow in excess of its usual and was now causing headaches.I have found out that the amount of hair is directly proportional to my headaches and have also determined that i need to have it cut every 31stday from my previous haircut..unnecessary details about me, I know.So when my friend headed out to our local unisex beauty parlor I tagged along.
I usually have my hair cut at a place in one of our school's recreation centers but decided to give this local place a try .I had been warned about a spanish beauty whose english vocabulary was limited to "si" ( spanish for yes , most americans except those in california know this word..the mostly spanish population of california is more adept at conversing in tamil and vietnamese).turned out that part of the warning was right - the part abt my barberess being spanish and her knowing "si".
There were 2 hefty middle-aged women in the "beauty" parlor and there were about 3 customers. we sat down and proceeded to browse through a magazine and after a while one of them finished up with a customer and asked the next person in-line to take the seat.2 ppl who had come before us motioned to her that they were waiting for the other lady . that should have been warning enough . with a crooked almost beatific smile she looked at me and asked me to step-up to the challenge. i threw the magazine on the couch and got up . a 6ft 1 (skinny)giant facing a roughly 5ft 3 spanish mom and before i knew it i'd been reduced to abt 3 feet ,seated as i was in the barber's chair while she hovered above me like a vulture circling its prey.she threw a black cloak over me and proceeded to tie it up at the neck with a white piece of paper.despite my efforts to distract myself with pleasant thoughts, the only image that jumped to mind was that of a billy goat with a garland around its neck being readied for sacrifice to a huge ayyanar statue .To complete the picture the priestess proceeded to wet my hair as if i was being sanctfied with manja thanni and then for the first time in my life i used a translator in a barber shop. not that i needed a translator ,it was obvious i was there to get a haircut. but this was a crisis and i had to find someone.the other lady came to the rescue and asked me in english how i wanted my hair cut and i told her i wanted it short but not really short.in her capacity as an unpaid translator she turned to the other women and told her just one word in espanol and then the hair-raising experience began.
she would cut some hair and then would attempt to brush the cut hair off my face.attempt because she would abstractly whack a comb/brush on my face , an action that reminded my of how some servant maids in singara chennai would sweep the floor without dislodging a single molecule of dust from its place.it was totally unlike any other hair-cut experience.. i was never asked once if i was satisfied with what was happening to the mop on top of my head.well she wasn't doing anything catastrophic and i patiently waited till she blew the loose hair with a dryer and announced that i was all set.well she didnt actually say anything but i managed to understand and leaped out of the chair into ecstatic escape and turned around to see my friend being invited with the same smile.now he is a little fickle about how his hair needs to look. he proceeded to explain carefully how exactly each strand needs to be cut to his translator and wonder of wonders the translator lady said something that sounded remarkably like the one word translation she had given for my request.
we paid up and as we were leaving our ever smiling barberess gave us a couple of table calendars with pictures of  people with fantastic hairdos. must have been pictures of how they looked before they came in . oh well it was a scary experience having someone else control my life even if it was only for some 30 mins.