“The worse the haircut, the better the man.”― John Green
Men have been taking John Green quite seriously. At any given point of the day, if I look around, I can find men with hairstyles that can make a poet forget everything about poetry and force an atheist to pick up a cross. May be I know nothing about style.
Back when I was a child, I remember judging boys based on their hairstyles. Long hair meant drummer/guitarist/ kidnapper/ don’t take the Parle G biscuit he offered you/ Tamil movie villain’s side kick; while an Anil Kapoor style haircut meant decent/ God fearing/ accept the Parle G biscuit that is offered/ saint who will one day crack the IIT exams/hero who will save the girl from the Tamil movie villain’s long haired side kick. Life was simple back then. But as I grew up, barbers around the world began to commit serious scissor mistakes, paving way to some questionable styles. It was all approved in the name of Fashion. When Beckham got himself a Mohawk, the Indian male population went berserk and ran a trimmer on the sides of their heads leaving a row of hair on the middle which was then styled with some Parachute coconut oil.
But nothing hit the Indian hair scene as much as the word ‘Spikes’ did. Mani, our gardener from Trichy was the first one to get spikes. Actually no, I remember how back when I had a boy cut, every morning meant staring at the hair strands standing up at odd places and putting them back in place with the help of tap water or my saliva, whichever was nearer. Spikes make my tongue sweat.
My brother recently got himself a ‘Honey Singh’ haircut, where the top portion is kept long and the sides barely there. To state the fact, my brother looks like an Indian version of Frankenstein. Since he is a teenager living in an age where the newspapers are filled with reports on children committing suicide over simple reasons like getting scolded, my parents have accepted his personal preference towards mad kick hairstyles.
I want to blame our cute oriental neighbours for this. They look grand in everything they sport. Straight hair, front bangs, messy hair-dos, random rainbow hair colour, spikes and punk influenced haircuts; it looks like they are custom made for every single thing. But that is not our case. No Sir, we certainly not that blessed. Sport a messy hairdo and they mistake you for a street urchin. Get an Emo haircut and your mother will check the yellow pages to contact the local Tantrik. Use excessive gel to style your hair and your grandmother would innocently ask if you were licked on the head by a cow. We my brown friend are definitely not that lucky.
My point is that I miss simple men. Men who are not obsessed with the shape of their eyebrows, the hairlessness of their chest or the smoothness of their jaw line. I want men who respect their two day stubble and indulge in mathematics that is not limited to counting the packs on their abs. I want men with hair styles that make them look terrestrial.
I also miss seeing my brother with a haircut that affirms that he indeed has a human skull underneath all that hair.
Somewhere, Anil Kapoor smiles.
P.S- RIP my favourite Mr.R.K.Narayan. Malgudi days will always be read, whatever stage of life I am in.
P.P.S- I wonder why I chose litigation. No time at all. I had to somehow update this blog. :(