The Barber Who Knew Everybody's Secrets

🌿 The Barber Who Knew Everybody's Secrets

Nobody in Ponmanipudi knew more secrets.....?

God.... or Rangaswamy.

Rangaswamy knew most of secrets of the Ponmanipudi.

Rangaswamy barbershop "La Saloon" as the big board announced boldly, stood almost opposite to Appuswamy's tea stall.

It was small, no fancy chairs but always busy.

The big mirror had a crack running through it. The ceiling fan rotated with enthusiasm despite its years with a sedate creak.

And the radio permanently played songs from thirty years ago.....Kishore kumar, Rafi "saab" and old tamil and malayalam songs..

Every man, living in Ponmanipudi eventually found himself in that chair.

And once a man sat in a barber's chair...something strange happened.

There was a pull to start talking.

"Ranga..."

Basavarajappa lowered his voice dramatically.

Rangaswamy continued trimming.

"What?"

"If my wife asks..."

"Mmm?"

"I was in Rajathooram on business."

"You were in Rajathooram."

"Good."

A pause.

"And if she asks why the hotel bill says Maharaja Residency?"

Rangaswamy sighed.Yes, he knew about that woman, Shwetha in Kalaimalai.

"Then you were conducting business comfortably in Rajthooram."

The shop was quiet.

Basavarajappa relaxed visibly.

Then lowered his voice even further.

"You don't know Shwetha" "ok"

The scissors stopped.

Rangaswamy stared at him through the mirror.

"My condolences." "Best of luck for business"

Even Basavarajappa laughed.

"Next! "...Murugan, the bus driver.

Murugan, twenty-three, hopelessly in love.

"Ranga anna..."

"Mmm?"

"She looked at me yesterday."

"Who?"

"Meena."

"Did she speak?"

"No."

"Smile?"

"No."

"Wave?"

"No."

"Then?"

"She looked at me.....it will happen eventually."

Rangaswamy nodded gravely.

"Wedding next year, yendo?"

The entire shop exploded.

Murugan laughed hardest.

Next customer....Headmaster Narayanan sir.

Rangaswamy knew him too well.....professional complainer. He voluntarily increased the volume of radio...."zindagi haseena..." Rafi saab's voice floated leisurely....

"Children today have no discipline."

Rangaswamy nodded.

"You have said that every month since 1998."

"Because it is true."

"Children have also been saying things about you since 1998."

Even the Headmaster smiled reluctantly.

Then came old farmer Rangan who grew chickoo.

"My son wants to become a musician."

"Good."

"I wanted him to become engineer."

"Why?"

"So he won't suffer."

Rangaswamy shrugged.

"You became farmer, howda?"

"Yes."

"Did suffering ask permission first?"

The old farmer laughed so hard he nearly fell out of the chair.

Next came the small boy, "Venkye" accompanied by his Appa, Nanjunda.

"Give him the "machine" Nanjunda thundered loudly trying to go above Kishore kumar renderings...

"No no, anna"....I need "Dev Anand cut" Venkye whined.

"No Dev Anand, I don't like him" "Put machine" Nanjunda settled the issue as Venkye was bundled on to the chair scowling.

Women came too...not officially ofcourse. But bringing their children. Or through husbands....aww...through rumours and life...

Rangaswamy knew which marriages were happy...And which ones smiled only in public.

The whole village passed through that shop.

And with every haircut...pieces of themselves remained behind in the shop.

People who were lonely...

Who were afraid....

Who were secretly happy..

Who were secretly miserable...

Who missed somebody...

Who regretted something..

Who loved somebody they never married.

Who loved somebody who did not love them back......

Rangawamy knew everything...for thirty-five years Rangaswamy listened intently.

And for thirty-five years...not one secret escaped from his mouth.

Suddenly one morning something happened...

Appuswamy walked into the shop.

"Tea?"

he asked.

Rangaswamy blinked.

"Who are you?"

Oh! silence.....then the shop erupted.

Even Appuswamy laughed.

"What?"

"Old age."

"You are younger than me."

"That is what worries me."

Everybody laughed. Including Rangaswamy.

Nobody was worried...Not yet.

Two weeks later, Rangaswamy forgot where he had kept his scissors....

Three weeks later, he forgot Murugan's name.

One month later he stopped halfway through Selvam's haircut.... scissors motionless.

Selvam frowned.

"Ranga?"

No response.

"What happened?"

Rangaswamy blinked.

"What was I doing?"

The laughter came...But weaker this time.

Because suddenly...it wasn't funny anymore.

Slowly, a rumour entered Ponmanipudi...then another....and yet another....leading to a confirmation..

Ayoo! Rangaswamy was forgetting things..loosing memory.

At first people felt sorry for Rangaswamy.

Then they became afraid. Not for him, but for themselves....because oh! Kaduvale! my secrets!

One evening Appuswamy whispered.....

"What if Rangaswamy accidentally tells somebody?"

The tea stall became quiet....very very quiet.

Because, because everybody immediately thought of their secrets....everybody was worried.

The customers at "The Saloon" slowly disappeared....fewer each week and slowly reducing..

Excuses multiplied....novel ones...

"My nephew cuts hair."

"I am growing it."

"I am travelling."

One man even claimed "spiritual" reasons.

Meanwhile another young barber in the neighbouring village became mysteriously popular. He thanked "Mariamma" and bestowed donations to the diety.

One afternoon Rangaswamy waved at Rajan walking past.

"Haircut?"

"No no."

"Tomorrow."

The man smiled nervously and shuffled away as fast as he could and travelled six kilometres to the young barber, thanking his stars...

Rangaswamy watched Rajan go.

Smiled...and said nothing.

That hurt more than anger.

Months later, Dr. Chari found Rangaswamy sitting outside the empty shop....

No customers, no radio, no sound of scissors...only silence.

"Slow day, Ranga?"

Chari asked.

"Slow village."

The old barber smiled wistfully.

Neither spoke for a while.

Finally Chari asked..

"Does the forgetting bother you?"

Rangaswamy looked toward Brindlemalai.

"The forgetting doesn't."

A pause...

"Then what does?"

Another pause...

"They are ..yea....afraid."

The answer arrived softly with great inner pain.

"Thirty-five years, Ponmanipudi people trusted me with their secrets."

His smile looked tired now.

"Now they don't trust me to keep them."

The evening breeze moved gently through the babool trees...

Across the road, Appuswamy suddenly found his tea fascinating......

Then Rangaswamy laughed.

A small laugh.

"Funny, no?"

"What?"

"I am exactly the same man. A bit of forgetting, but I am the same man, eelee...?"

For the first time in many years...Dr. Chari had no answer.

Three months later the shop closed....quietly.

There was no announcement. No farewell. And no speeches.

That morning, the shutters simply remained down.

People noticed ofcourse....relieved.

But life moved on....as life always does.

One winter morning, news spread across Ponmanipudi.

Rangaswamy had died peacefully in his sleep.

The village felt strangely smaller....

Even Appuswamy's Moringa- Ellachi tea tasted different. Though nobody could explain why.

A week later came another surprise....Rangaswamy's son discovered boxes....

Dozens of boxes....Filled with notebooks.

The village panicked immediately......

Headmaster Narayanan stopped sleeping.

Basavarajappa developed a sudden urge to go to Rajathooram....for business development.

Murugan considered moving abroad....

Because everybody knew exactly what might be inside....thirty-five years of secrets....

Ayoo! we will be ruined......

One Sunday evening, the entire village gathered in the Ponmanipudi hall for final obsequies for Rangaswamy....

Everybody came....bcoz they wanted to find out...

After the final ceremonies, Rangaswamy's son opened the first notebook ....

Empty....silence.

The second notebook.

Silence.....

The third......Kaduvale! saved....

Page after page.....Blank.

Every notebook....Blank.

Nothing.....absolutely nothing.

Then Murugan noticed writing on the first page of each notebook....the same sentence written on first page of every notebook....

Rangaswamy's son read it aloud.....

"A secret entrusted to me belongs to the person who spoke it."

Total silence and a collective sigh.....

He then turned the page....Blank.

Then read the second line.....

"It does....aa...Not belong to me."

Silence.....no one moved, or laughed.....Nobody even looked up.

Because suddenly everyone understood something deeply painful.

For thirty-five years they had trusted Rangaswamy with their secrets.

But when Rangaswamy needed their trust and support..they had withdrawn it....

Outside, the old barbershop stood quietly beneath the evening sky.....

The cracked mirror...the tired fan.....

Outside, the old chair remained empty.

For the first time in years...

nobody was afraid to sit in it.

And for the first time in years...

everybody trusted Rangaswamy completely.

Too late.

Waiting for a man who would never return 🌿

Welcome to Ponmanipudi... where nothing is as it seems.