The doors are shut but the noise without sneaks in, amidst the clicking humming sounds from the clippers clipping my hair logs. Prior to this, I had walked in, moist from the rains,but persevering to get the next cut because in those moments I sit being clipped,I have thoughts that refresh. In this posture,I desist from all ventures or bother,the music heard from nights before crawl back into my head’s ears and sometimes inspires another.
In the barber shop are scissors,combs, hair oils,sterilizer set,buckets,towels,bags,white lights,TV set and a stereo from which sounds that sometimes distort my thoughts ceaselessly emanate…in all these he skillfully clips and holds my scalp, in this he is master and i am servant until the youth in me is renewed with the best of shape and cut.
These are just a few things to speak about not forgetting to mention the regular in and out flux of passerby friends , buying and selling of gossips or futile conversations in the most comic approach, acts that leave me wondering if all humans indeed have the same amount of brain cells to keep sane and progressive.
But I shall digress no further on the theme of this distinct serenity and sober state I find my self in when I get my hairstyle and enjoy the tyranny of killing some hair while sparing other logs as I please, the barber himself being my execution tool and I the judge.
A man’s hair as well as a woman’s reveal volumes about them,the earliest signs of malady ,insanity or sanity are revealed by the state of a man’s hair. Sanity levels, ranging from momentary to permanent, thus different levels are severally depicted as the case applies…
I love my barber shop because it becomes the medium that affords me an ecstasy of introspection, retrospection and projections!
IMAGE SOURCE: Google images