The harvest

Balamani, the Matriarch. Kneeling down she touched her forehead to the floor. A few rose petals were dropped on her head, symbolic of the Goddess’ blessing. She stood up and followed her barberette to the sacrificial platform, and sat down on it. Priya might be half her age, maybe even less, but now, she was the agent of the Goddess and commanded her complete submission. Till the last strand of hair was shaved off her head, she was the sacrificial lamb. As Priya dropped rose petals on Balamani’s bowed head, her heart soared. This was the moment she was waiting for all her life. Ever since she started helping out at her dad’s barber shop during the festival, she wanted to be the one to handle this family’s offerings at the temple. It was her dad and mom who used to do it, but now the mantle had passed to her. Even though she was married, and living in the city, she came back to keep the tradition alive. Besides, how could she pass up the opportunity to shave a few Rapunzels? She did run a salon for women back home, but it wasn’t the same. She walked back to the platform. Balamani followed her and sat down on it, clasping her hands together in her lap, and bowing her head deferentially. Priya pulled out a ball of string from the flower basket. Breaking off a length, she looped it around the base of Balamani’s flower decked bun several times and tied it tightly. She lit a few sticks of incense. Holding them below the thick heavy bun she let the fragrant smoke waft over it. She called over her sister, Radha. Handing her the incense sticks, she picked up the brand new scissors. She ran a thumb along the cutting edge to test the sharpness, and snipped them in the air a few times to limber up her fingers. She looked around at the gaggle of women chatting. In a few moments, the conversations ceased and a tranquil silence fell. She stood off to one side, hand on top of Balamani’s head, she pushed down firmly. The head went down obediently. She slid the scissors into the soft hair at the occipital and closed the blades, making the first snip of the season. Holding her head immobile, she continued to slide the scissors in, cutting off chunks of hair that entered the bun. It had been a few years since she cut a woman’s hair like this. The bun slowly started to separate from the head. She moved her hand down to hold the hair together where it was being cut. Balamani kept her head perfectly still. The bun started to move down till it was hanging by a single chunk. The scissors went in one last time, a loud drawn out snip, and the heavy loaf of hair fell to the floor. Radha picked up the bun and set it on the table. She stuck the incense sticks in the bun. Priya looked around the group. She found Jayanthi, sitting in the middle of the group. A loose, lazy braid was draped over her shoulder and fell into her lap. “Radha, I don’t want to see any loose braids and buns around. Take them one by one, make sure their hair is in a proper braid for the offering, with flowers. Jayanthi, Radhika, Vandana, Harika, and Deepika: get your hair done properly by Radha.” Radha was surprised at the commanding tone that her sister’s voice took. Normally quite jovial and fun loving, she was now like a strict school teacher. Prashanth, Priya’s husband, brought out a wooden stool from store room. He was also a part time barber who had worked at his father-in-law’s shop, rubbing elbows with his future wife. He knew the reason his wife insisted on braids: They were always easier to handle and sell. In fact there were probably prospective buyers already lined up. Traditionally, all the harvested hair belonged to the barber / barberette. Jayanthi, expecting to be next, got up and went over to her hair prepared. Priya turned her attention back to Balamani. Prashanth brought her a filled water sprayer as she took a sheet from the pile. Shaking it out, she covered Balamani with it, pulling it tightly around her neck. The most influential woman in the village. Now, ready to be shorn like a sheep. She ran her fingers into the thick hair up her nape, pulling gently. She started to spray water on Balamani’s head, working her fingers through the thick jagged bob left behind after the bun was cut. She took her time massaging Balamani’s head, loving every bit of control she had over her. She smoothed down the wet hair. Droplets of water dripping from the jagged ends onto the cloth. Snapping a fresh blade into two, dropped one half back into the tray. Standing before Balamani, she slid the blade into the razor. Holding her chin, she drew her head forward and adjusted the angle. Starting at the crown, she made a long smooth stroke down to her forehead. This was like old times in the shop with her father. Balamani felt Priya’s strong grip on her chin, adjusting her. She obeyed meekly. She felt the razor scrape down the top of her head and the first chunk of wet hair fall into her lap. She closed her eyes for a moment as the barberette continued to shave her from crown to forehead. Each confident stroke, sending another chunk of hair that desperately tried to cling to her face before falling into her lap. Her scalp was stretched at each stroke to ensure a smooth close shave. Her face was turned to one side as Priya started to shave the side. The razor glided down her temple and sideburns. Shaved hair tickling her ear as it slid off into her lap. She moved her hands under the cloth, a little restless and a clump of hair slid off to the floor. Her face was turned the other way as the shaving proceeded. The razor slid down her sideburns all the way to her chin. Priya might have been fast and ruthless with the razor, but she was surprisingly gentle at the same time. With both sides shaved, her head was then pulled down firmly. Chin to chest. Even lower than it was when the bun was being chopped off. The razor now glided down from her crown to the nape. Long smooth strokes and Priya’s fingertips flicking off the shaved locks. Some of the women watched nervously as the staid matriarch’s hair rained to the floor. The same fate awaited them. A few last gentle turns as Priya scraped off the last of the wet locks on the back of Balamani’s head. Folding her ears and getting every last strand of hair cleaned up. She wiped the blade on her wrist and slowly undid the sheet covering her up. Balamani stayed put as Priya ran the razor down her neck all the way to her shoulders. A quick rub of the freshly shaved head, and Balamani was done. She got up from the platform and went back to sit with the other women. Following Priya’s instructions, Radha collected Jayanthi and took her for processing. Jayanthi sat on the old, slightly rickety stool. Her braid was quickly undone and Radha got busy with the comb. This was something she usually enjoyed. She would often have Priya or Radha come down and pamper her hair on the weekends. Now the same girls were going to be separating her from her prized tresses. She watched with a mixture of trepidation and respect as Priya nonchalantly shaved the oldest woman in the group. Who, for her part, was completely submissive and obedient. She could understand being that way with the barber, but with a barberette? Who was possibly younger than almost every married woman here? Still, she could not help but admire the ruthless efficiency with which Balamani was shorn. She tried to relax and enjoy the combing, but being on the stool meant that she would be up next. Or at least as quickly as possible. Balamani was almost completely shaved, but Radha still hadn’t quite started braiding. It would probably be someone else. The sheet was undone and Balamani’s neck and shoulders were cleaned up. Priya cast her eye among the lot. “Harika!” she called.