All-India Experience, Local Wisdom — The Barber of Ponmanipudi

THE MAN WHO CUT HAIR AND FIXED LIVES....

(A Ponmanipudi Story...Magic world unravelled)

Sommanna’s shop opened at eight every morning....no exceptions...

Not because customers came at eight..

But because Sommanna liked to arrive early, sweep the floor with vigour, and announce to the village that he was ready for business...

On the cracked mirror inside his shop, he had written in bold red paint:

SOMMANNA

HAIR SPECIALIST

ALL-INDIA EXPERIENCE ( Gulf Experience Too)

Nobody knew what All-India meant.

But Sommanna knew.

“Kerala I have cut,” he said once, waving scissors dangerously.

“Punjab also. Sikh fellows, very difficult hair....paapa. Rajasthan also — dry hair like thar desert....ayoo thani yele....”

No one had seen Sommanna leave Ponmanipudi.

But everyone had heard his travels and his experiences...

That morning, Dr. Chari sat on the wooden chair, black cape around his neck.

“Same cut, rayare ?” Sommanna asked, already cutting, sniping, turning....

“Same Somanna,” Chari said.

“Doctor people always want same cut,”

Sommanna sighed.

“Life is change, hair also change. But people afraid to change....eele.”

He tilted Chari’s head slightly.

“You know,” Sommanna said, “hair is very philosophical....very deep rayare”

Chari smiled.

“Go on.”

“People think hair problem is only hair problem,” Sommanna continued.

“But actually, it is mind problem.”

He snipped thoughtfully, staring and prancing on a naughty lock of hair...

“When mind is tense, hair falls off like leaves in winter.

When ego is high, hairline goes back and back...like desert....ayoo..ayooo..big problem.

When stress comes, white hair appears suddenly — like unwanted guests... abbaaa....”

Chari laughed softly.

“So what about baldness?” he asked.

Sommanna stopped cutting.

This was serious territory.

“Baldness,” he said slowly, “is acceptance of life.”

He resumed cutting.

“Some people fight it. Oil, medicine, wigs, prayer.....

Some people surrender. They shave and smile.”

He nodded to himself vigorously..

“Those people are dangerous.....especially for us," he whispered in low growl....

"Rayare, careful of bald person who accepts...very careful..."

Outside, Appuswamy shouted,

“Sommanna! Is my turn coming today or tomorrow after birth?”

“Coming, coming appanna...learn to be calm like rayare here!” Sommanna shouted back.

“Hair takes time. Life also.”

He leaned closer to Chari.

“Doctor rayare, you are very lucky. Good strong hair. No patches too...black n golden..”

“Genetics,” Chari said.

“No no,” Sommanna corrected.

“Balance in mind, body and soul.”

He tapped Chari’s head lightly.

“Good man...human...You don’t think too much.

And you don’t think too little.

That is why hair is still staying.”

Chari raised an eyebrow.

“Scientific?” he asked.

“Fully,” Sommanna said confidently.

“All-India science....and experience of life”

A young boy entered, rubbing his head anxiously.

“Anna,” he whispered, “am I losing hair?”

Sommanna examined him gravely.

“How old?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Hmm.”

Sommanna sighed. “Love problem?”

The boy froze.

“Yes.”

Sommanna nodded.

“Hair knows before heart understands.”

He turned to Chari.

“You see? Hair is honest...no hide. Humans are not.”

By the time Chari stood up, hair trimmed, mind strangely lighter, Sommanna brushed the floor again.

“Doctor,” he said suddenly, softer now,

“you know what is biggest hair problem?”

“What?”

“People want control.”

He smiled, not joking this time.

“Hair grows when it wants.

Falls when it wants.

Life also the same.”

Chari paid and stepped out giving a mock salute...

Behind him, Sommanna called out loudly:

“Next!

Who wants haircut and free advice?”

Nobody moved immediately.

They never did.

But everyone came eventually..

Because in Ponmanipudi,

the barber didn’t just cut hair.

He reminded people —

some things are meant to be trimmed,

some meant to fall,

and some… meant to be just accepted.