Haircut , the necessary ritual

They say even a king has to bow before a barber as no one can have a haircut with the head held high.The barbers have been an important segment of society and in villages, apart from cutting hair they were engaged in carrying messages or communication especially pertaining to marriages and marriage invitations. They were said to be a garrulous lot and unstoppable talkers with unmatched wit . But this perhaps merits a separate discussion.

I have clear memories of having a haircut at home when the barber would come once in a month on Sunday to do the job. This continued till the time I was old enough to accompany my father to the barber’s shop and to absorb the unfamiliar atmosphere of a shop or a saloon .The barber would place a wooden plank on and across the arms of the chair and make me sit on it so that my face came up to the level of the mirror in front so as to be clearly visible .Longish hair would be snipped with a scissors .I was made to move my head left, right and down and the machine would move on the back and sides with a clacking sound. The barber was one Jhania Ram, a middle aged man, in the early sixties, who used to give a haircut at home also. The shop is still there in Lower Bazaar , Shimla and is the first barber’s shop while going from DC office side.
While in School ,with rich growth of hair on my head ,which grew in length rather quickly, it was not only a ritual but also a necessity to have a haircut once in a month lest it should invite the ire and anger of teachers and parents alike . Sporting long hair was not in vogue.When I reached seventh class , I started having a haircut , going to the barber’s shop unescorted , on my own. Reaching higher classes , I made it a point to have my haircut at a place near my school during some PT period, so as to save on time .It was a must to have a hair wash immediately after the haircut or else jokingly , the barber was said to be ‘sitting on one’s head’.It was an arduous job as there would be very small hair scattered all over , thanks to the machine . Mercifully,these days only scissors are used and a electric trimmer is used to shear the sides. The place was called as barbers’ workshop where about a dozen barbers did the job under a roof along the stairs that lead from Lower Bazar to Ganj Bazar, literally the grain market of Shimla. The ‘workshop’ is still there.
In due course, change of place and residence took place and it was natural to have haircut from different barber at different time and place.

The Double Roti Wala

To  me  bread     has always meant   ‘डबलरोटी’ and not ‘रोटी’  which it actually means. About   two-three months  back , when a bakery showroom opened  at a walking distance from my  locality- a suburb of Shimla - it was welcome , for otherwise  all bakery items like pastry, cake etc had to be brought from the outlets at the Mall or Lakkar Bazaar. Bread is of course available  at all places. I am taken back to the time when there were no outlets selling bakery items and bread vendors carried the stuff in a metal box on their heads. The box was of standard size and specification.To our surprise some times the vendor would walk with free hands with the box strategically balanced on the head.Some had regular customers to whom  bread was delivered daily at their doorstep. , while some others passing by would loudly call out  ‘डबलरोटी’ so that some people residing nearby could buy bread etc. Some others could be found on the roadside , with the box placed on a parapet and any passerby could buy whatever he wanted to.   I fondly remember one Jagannath or Jagarnath from  the sixties who came daily in the neighborhood to deliver bread. He was a jolly good fellow, with always a smile on his face.  The box or the trunk was  layered with trays. The upper layer contained pastries, middle layer stuff like cream rolls  & rusks   and at the bottom were bread and buns , which colloquially   were called ‘band’ .The bread was a complete bread , which was cut into slices with a sharp big knife  before delivery. A full bread would cost eight anna  or 50 paise and half bread could be had for four anna or 25 paise.Pastry cost 15 paise.Since this was a daily supply , stuff was always fresh , bread was soft and tasted sweet .With time  baking technique and  packaging have considerably improved   but the bread no longer tastes that good.

Apart from the stuff one badly misses,  the personal bond that existed between the vendor and the customer with pleasantries exchanged from both sides. Nowadays  it has become  only businesslike no one bothering to know even the name of one another. 

Asha Bhosle

When   Shakespeare wrote   “…Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale

Her infinite  variety”,

- among other things, perhaps he was  presaging , in a good sense  the   advent   of  Asha Bhosle , the renowned  playback singer  of   Bollywood in the twentieth  century   through   twenty first century. Asha Bhosle , the evergreen , versatile singer of  Hindi  cinema  turns 82 today. In a singing career spanning  about   six decades, she has captivated  the  music  lovers  of the Indian sub continent  with her unmatched voice , which  is difficult to describe  or  define in  terms of tone, tenor  or timbre  in one single  phrase. Her songs    Aya Holi ka tyohar & Aadha Hai Chandrama Raat Aadhi from the film  ‘Navrang ‘ , Ab ke Baras Bhej  Bhaiyya ko babul    from  ‘Bandini’, Kali Ghata Chhaye mora Jiya tarsaaye from  ‘Sujata’ , Udein  Jab Jab Zulfei teri  from ‘Naya Daur’,   Tere Khayalon mein hum from   ‘Geet Gaya Pattharon Ne’,  Paan Khaye sayyan hamaaro from ‘Teesri  Qasam’  are simply superb. Her  non- film number- Geet kitne gaa chuki hoon, is sukhi jag ke liye- can  virtually  draw  tears  from even  an unemotional   listener.She has sung playback for child artistes in films ‘Boot Polish’ and ‘Jagriti’.   Besides her Punjabi songs are no less popular. Pyar de bhulekhe kinne sohne sohne   kha    gaye ,     and   Das mereya   Dholana  ve   toon  kehde arsh da tara,- both  duets with   Muhammad  Rafi  are unforgettable  masterpieces. For her voice quality, she has been  the  favourite  of late  O.P.Nayyar , who never  took  Lata Mangeshkar for his compositions. Asha Bhosle has lent her voice to Qawwalis, Bhajans, Shabads also  and  done full justice to these with her rendition. She holds the record for  most recorded    singer , leaving even Lata Mangeshkae her more acclaimed and celebrated elder sister behind.  We hope she continues to sing and enrich the music world with her melodies. 

All for the sake of Good Handwriting

I  started  my  education  in   Lady Irwin  High   School, (later  Higher Secondary School ) Shimla-precursor of the present Dayanand Public School, which  despite  a different name  was under the  DAV  management. Without  the  trappings  of  a  public school, English was taught  from   Class  I. It was a  girls’ school,  boys  being allowed upto Class IV only. By the time  we reached  our last class in this school, we had started  reciting  and  learning  by rote  English poems. All the  teachers  were  ladies. We    wrote with lead pencils .

All this changed  when I got admitted  to the local  S.D. Higher Secondary School in Class V . Teachers were all  male, and strict disciplinarians  at that , though  devout  teachers  and   literally wedded to the profession.  Uniform was compulsory only on Monday , though   some of us  wore it  on all days.Only one notebook for each books was prescribed – there being no separate  notebooks for class work and homework.    But the rude shock came in the shape of   use of ink instead of lead pencils. It  was  ‘G’   nib   fixed to a holder   for English and  ‘ Qalam ‘ made from bamboo reed    for   Hindi and other subjects. New to this , it took me  quite  some  period  of time to get used.  Every time opening the inkpot and placing it on table,  then dipping the holder with the nib or the  Qalam  in ink and  writing  on notebook  was quite taxing. All the time my  fingers got stained  with  ink , which  was removed with difficulty on reaching home . Sometimes, if the inkpot had a loose cap , ink would spill out and spoil   the bag and the  books and notebooks. The use of blotting paper  while turning pages was quite frequent.However, we got wise with time and had our fountain pen nibs cut in the  Qalam style  which  brought forth the same results , but without hassles.   Good  handwriting  was not only encouraged  but duly emphasized.  There  was   a competition of sorts  among the students who cared, to earn  as many  ‘ Good ‘ or ‘Very Good’ remarks as  they could.  A far cry from the present  day  emphasis  on cursive writing in schools, without  teaching the students how to write. I must say this stood us in good stead so far as handwriting is concerned. This reminds  of  Mahatma Gandhi’s lament  that he  did not  have a good handwriting  and called  this a sign of imperfect education. 

The good old days !

School Days

Memories of childhood especially school days never fade. I am reminded of a phrase  ‘शिकायती टट्टू’  used day in and day out while describing a person habitual of complaining against others to the  teacher for some act of mischief , purported indiscipline or to use a rather heavy word , misdemeanor. If someone repeatedly  bullied you,it was fine as the teacher as we all know is a  guardian as well, in school hours . Sometimes the complaint was like   ‘सर , ये कुछ खा रहा है...’. Sometimes, the teacher, who would not brook indiscipline would take offence and reprimand or even slap the ‘wrong doer’.  A few times, the tables would get turned upon the complainant student, when he would be roughed up by the teacher for this bad habit of  ‘चुगली’ , much to the amusement of entire class.A teacher , jovial by nature would ask the offender to give a bit out of  the eatable to the complaining student so that he would keep shut. Another saying that was popular was

 ‘ चुगलखोर को  लगे रे डंडा , उसको  बचाना नहीं चाहिए’  which was sung as a chorus.

The good old days ! 

मैथिलीशरण गुप्त

45 से 50 वर्ष पूर्व के अपने स्कूल के विद्यार्थी काल में पढ़ी कविताओं की कुछ पंक्तियाँ आज भी याद हैं .
यथा:
"माँ कह एक कहानी।"
बेटा समझ लिया क्या तूने मुझको अपनी नानी?"
"कहती है मुझसे यह चेटी, तू मेरी नानी की बेटी
कह माँ कह लेटी ही लेटी, राजा था या रानी?
माँ कह एक कहानी।"
-----------------

संग्राम में निज-शत्रुओं की देखकर यह नीचता
कहने लगा वह यों वचन दृग युग-करों से मींचता -
"नि:शस्त्र पर तुम वीर बनकर वार करते हो अहो!
है पाप तुमको देखना भी पामरों! सम्मुख न हो!!
---------
तात! हे मातुल! जहाँ हो प्रणाम तुम्हें वहीं,
अभिमन्यु का इस भाँति मरना भूल न जाना कहीं!"
दृग बंद कर वह यशोधन सर्वदा को सो गया,
हा! एक अनुपम रत्न मानो मेदिनी का खो गया ||
---------------

नर हो, न निराश करो मन को
कुछ काम करो, कुछ काम करो
जग में रह कर कुछ नाम करो

इन कविताओं के रचयिता राष्ट्र-कवि मैथिलीशरण गुप्त की आज जयंती है .
इस महान कवि को हमारी विनम्र श्रद्धांजलि !

Nirad. C. Chaudhuri

Today is the death anniversary of Nirad. C. Chaudhuri , the prominent Bengali English writer of the twentieth century. Known best for his ‘The Autobiography of an Unknown Indian’ which was published in 1951, his other books include ‘A Passage to England’ written long before he actually left for England , eventually to spend last more than two decades of life in England , ‘The Continent of Circe’, ‘Scholar Extraordinary’ which won him the Sahitya Academy Award , ‘Clive of India’ and lastly ‘Three Horsemen of the New Apocalypse’. He had the distinction of being the oldest author , having published his last work at the age of ninety nine or say in the hundredth year of his life.

An irrefutable Anglophile , he was in love with everything English and strangely, did not want Britishers to leave India . However in later years of life he was disillusioned with the English culture and way of life due to ‘degeneration‘ that he felt had set therein.