Life comes a full circle

As kids, when we had to go in the middle of the night, I remember my kid brother would just get up, walk to the rest room and do his business without any fuss. He didn't even bother with turning the lights on for two reasons. One, he wasn't scared of the darkness, or just about anything for that matter. The second, he was too short to be able to reach the switches in that old house that was built in a time when flipping switches was strictly an adult thing.

Yours truly, on the other hand, would wake up our father who would accompany me, turn the lights on and once I was done, even pour some water from the small, green mug on to the bathroom floor for me to stamp on before returning to the paai to resume my dreams. I also remember, on some nights, he would nuzzle against the rear of my neck before I went back to bed.

Last night, my son, who is going through a bout of cold and cough, woke up in the middle of the night and wanted to go. I had not gone to bed yet and was awake. He held my hands and we walked to the rest room. He turned on the lights and insisted on doing his business himself. Although watching over him, I stood back. He then wanted to blow his nose and this one needed my expertise. Once done, I carried him back to the bed and like a fish being released back into the river, he snuggled back under his still-warm blanket in a single motion. 

Life has come a full circle. And yes, I did nuzzle his nape. 

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Getting a hair cut is a sacred ritual for most men. There are preferences, specifications, requirements, whims, fancies, choices surrounding what is one of the few moments men dedicate to themselves.

My earliest memories of getting a haircut are of holding my father's hands early on a Sunday morning of his choosing - on a fine weekday morning, he would announce that it was time while applying coconut oil to my hair - and making our way to the nearest salon: Capital Hair Dressers in T Nagar. After browsing through the Tamil newspapers and magazines during the wait, we would step up to the plate for our grooming session. 

My father had very simple requirements for himself: short on the sides and back and medium on the top - something that I have adopted and use to this day, although with varying degrees of success. Once he was ready, he would inspect my cut, chime in with an opinion on the length and once he was satisfied, we would step out: two men with spanking new haircuts.

The brisk walk back home would have one detour - to purchase a couple of shampoo sachets, as opposed to the default shikakai powder. He would choose a set of clothes about to be washed to wear to the saloon and wouldn't carry too much money on him either. Upon return, the clothes would be rinsed separately and the loose change deposited just outside the bathroom door - to be sprinkled with a few droplets of water before returning to his pocket. This was the routine that was followed religiously. 

Yesterday, with both me and my son badly in need of a haircut, we made the trip together by ourselves for the first time. My wife usually handles this and had a dozen instructions for me. I picked out a set of clothes that were near the end of the laundry cycle and we were on our way. Although there is a salon within walking distance, they charge an exorbitant amount and we go by car to a more reasonably priced one. It so happened that we ended up on adjacent seats and I spelled out the same set of instructions handed down the ages for myself as the lady started spraying water on my hair. "Just like daddy for the boy Sir?", asked my son's hairdresser a moment later and I nodded. Fifteen minutes later, we were on the way back home. Two men with spanking new hair cuts and the younger of the two holding a candy in his hand. 

Yesterday, shampoo sachets weren't needed. Although we went straight into the shower, the clothes weren't hand rinsed separately. But the cellphone, the car keys and the candy did get a token sprinkling of water before they went back to their respective locations.