The barber must truly be a man’s best friend. Like the taxi driver or the bartender, he has become the personalised “wikipedia”, a confidante and a chirpy source of information all rolled in one. He seems to have a heads up on most things given the nature of his job and the clientele he serves. Definitely he has the neck (oops, I mean knack) for the job.
Despite my hopelessly diminishing plait, I visit Raja The Barber quite often, sometimes to trim whatever is left on top, sometimes to shave and sometimes I just call in to chat.
Raja, or real name R. Rasaratnam, moved into the Subang Jaya neighbourhood many months ago setting up his modest one-chair barbershop from half a shoplot in SS14. I decided to give the new chap on the block a try one day and, even before I sat in the chair, I was completely blown away — not so much by the pleasant greeting from the 57-year-old hairdresser or the streetsmart tagline “Cuts Above The Rest” that he used, but the music in the air.
I discovered that unlike many other barbershops, Raja’s was not all wound up in Indian music coming from the radio all day long — none of THR Raaga Semma Hot-te, Semma Hit-te which many customers elsewhere are so used to by now. But, that day, the first time I stepped in, music coming off the disc player was a recognisable riff played on a Fender Stratocaster.
“Wow, Rory Gallagher,” I let out. “Wow yes,” he roared back.
Gallagher, the Irish musician who died about 20 years ago, has left an indelible mark in the international blues rock scene though his following remains small in Malaysia.
So that was when I got stuck in a long conversation with Raja in what was to be the start of a comfortable barber-balding customer relationship.
We would exchange our little knowledge of classic rock and blues and he would often play albums by Johnny Winter, Buddy Guy and Freddie King for me to listen to. The last time I came by he asked me to differentiate the sounds of the legendary Bad Company and that coming from a Bad Company tribute band. He has an undying love for Lynyrd Skynyrd, the defunct American band.
Of course, it is not all about music all the time. The exchanges would also centre on everyday things such as ikan kembung selling for RM18 a kg at the market and rojak pasembor now costing RM6 a serving. On top of that, Raja would double up as health consultant, advising me how to take care of my gout and high blood pressure problems.
That is what I mean by barbers having the pride of place in establishing the palsy-walsy type of connection.
Apart from the Raja experience, I have always admired barbers and hairdressers because only they can get away with touching and pushing another person’s head, a deep-seated Malay pantang (abhorrence). Indian barbershops have become part of the Malaysian culture, having been around for ages, although of late the pool of skilled workforce who “multitask” is fast depleting — you know, those who, like Raja, snip your locks as effortlessly as they engage in a spirited chat with their colleagues and customers while doing their job.
I remember many years, ago when a haircut for boys under 15 years old cost only 50 sen, and adults RM1.
I guess the job was much easier then, the style was the same for boys and men — they placed you on the chair (small boys were made to sit on a plank placed on the armrests), powder-puffed the lower back and sides before proceeding to crop, first using the shearer to give the slopey style and then the scissors to trim the top.
The shave would come last depending on the need. In 10 or 15 minutes, the whole process would be over and the add-ons would come. Water would be gently sprayed on your newly-trimmed head, Brylcreem or some exotic hair oil would follow and, presto, with neatly combed hair, you looked like a choir boy.
The parting shot was the ultimate neck crack done with great finesse followed by the back wallop that I swear could overcome the most severe throat choke.
If you are a sentimentalist, you’d be glad that most of the above rituals have prevailed to this day, except that now instead of just the choir boy look, the customer has a more varied choice of hairstyles to choose from, including that of David Beckham.
Syed Nadzri is former NST group editor