Dispatches from real India (Part 5): Mottai Mama, my first and latest barber

Note: This post was composed in India and published after I got back to the US.Over the past few weeks, I have featured interesting people who we encounter in our day to day life in India. A tailor, an employee at a soda vending shop, a movie buff who runs an 85 year old beverage store and a virtual character in the form of a new take on sugarcane juice. In this penultimate article in the series, I talk to my very first barber, Mottai Mama Subramaniam over a haircut and a shave.At the time of my birth, my dad used to go a barbershop not too far from home on Shastri Road, Ramnagar. The shop has no name and is identifiable only by the blue revolving door at the entrance. The shop was originally started by Mottai Mama's brother and Subramaniam took over in 1971. Since then, he has offered affordable haircuts and shaves for customers of all ages and stripes.A couple of years after my birth, when I was ready for my first haircut, I am told my dad took me to Mottai Mama. For the next decade, I trusted mama with my head as did my dad. I distinctly remember a couple of calendar posters that adorned the shop as was the pot of water in the corner. The pot offered cool water on a warm day without the need for a refrigerator. In 1989, when we moved to our own place, we discovered a new saloon, Bharath Hairdressers next to home and shifted allegiances. Fast forward to last year and Bharath shuttered leaving us in the lurch. My father knocked at the door of Subramaniam who welcomed him with open arms. When I went home and wanted to have a cut and shave, my dad pointed me in the direction of Mottai Mama.I dropped by and instantly recognized mama. But for a white beard, he was still the same person I remembered from two decades ago. I reminded him that I was an old customer and while he didnt remember me, he knew my dad and pieced things together. We talked about the changes in our lives all these years and he was visibly thrilled to have me come back. When the next customer, another regular, came in, mama took a few minutes to talk about how an old customer had come back to his roots and what it meant to him.The shop has not changed much. It has undergone a couple of paint jobs- but in the same color. The posters remain as does the pot. The shop is peppered with pictures of various Hindu deities. The old tape recorder in the corner blared religious music non-stop. The ambiance had not changed one bit.[gallery ids="1230,1231,1232,1233,1234,1235"]Mama asked me how I was doing in the US and if I was happy. I paused and said, "I am doing good. Things are fine. I am happy. What about you?" He smiled. He replied, "My life has been the same for as long as I remember. I am very happy with what I have and what my job and life offers. I need nothing more at this point." His answer blew me away. As someone who belongs to a "want even more" generation, it is hard to find anybody who is happy and content with what they have. One could argue about his lack of motivation to be and do more. But I would think that a contented man today is a very rare commodity. In a world where more money buys more things, here is someone who is happy with everything in life. It must be applauded.I paid my Rs.100 (~$1.6) for the haircut and shave and dollops of advice on how I can tweak my shaving style to keep my skin smooth (unsolicited and good natured advice is a bonus everywhere in India). I walked away happy - not just with my shave and cut, but also with having met someone who was genuinely happy with life and had no regrets. For that alone, the Rs.100 was worth it.P.S: Subramaniam insisted that I call him Mottai Mama in this article.Other Posts in the series:Dispatches from real India (Part 1)Dispatches from real India (Part 2)Dispatches from real India (Part 3)Dispatches from real India (Part 4)