Bala’s Hair

Dr. Khan’s household was one of those that Marx would describe as bourgeois. The palatial bungalow sprawled on a vast estate; the driveway boasted latest expensive cars. The lush green lawn, with exotic flower beds and a fountain in the middle reminded of a Mughal era. There was a long list of servants to keep the house in order. Whenever a guest would visit, he would always find himself being attended by several servants. One would and park the car. The other one would lead to the drawing room. The third one would bring cold drink, the fourth one tea and so on.

Bala was one of the many domestic servants employed in Dr. Khan’s house but he enjoyed certain edge over the others because his father had worked all his life for Dr. Khan. This made Bala a most trusted, second generation servant and he used to tell this to everybody with pride. Bala was an expert gardener and when free would chatter incessantly, occasionally ordering his fellow servants to perform their tasks efficiently. No one dare to ask Bala to mind his own business because they were quite aware of the status he enjoyed. When Dr. Khan’s family would head to their villa located in the mountains in the simmering summer months they would entrust the whole house’s responsibility to him. For those few days, Bala would act like an interim king of the kingdom like Nizam Saqqa (Nizam – the waterman).

Bala was forty and still single. He had never seen a woman with eyes that were bound to make him fall in love. Love seemed a burden because in his view love usually ended in marriage and marriage was something he evaded at any cost. But when something is bound to happen it happens no matter what. It all started when his dear friend started bugging him to watch the latest action flick. His friend swore that the hero of the movie had striking resemblance with Bala. His friend’s colorful narrative and the oral sketch of the hero got him so anxious to watch the movie.

In the theater, when the movie began and the hero appeared on the giant screen, Bala almost fell off his chair due to shock. It was like Bala walking on screen with the guns concealed in the guitar case. The hero was clad in jeans and denim shirt and had longish hair. That was the only difference otherwise Bala was his exact look alike. In the turbulent darkness of the theater, Bala completely ignored the heroin, whose scenes would receive thunderous roars and whistles. He was totally immersed in the hero’s macho personality and facial features. Bala was sort of man who had never nurtured big dreams in life; he was content in whatever destiny had granted him but while watching a hero his heart swelled with a desire to have a demeanor and hair like him. By the end of the movie he had already made up his mind of having a hairdo like the hero.

Life was moving at lethargic pace in Dr. Khan’s household until the day when Spogmay was employed. True to her name she was as beautiful as the moon. She was hired for Dr. Khan’s finicky wife who constantly wanted someone around for chatter. Spogmay was given a room inside the mansion as oppose to the servant quarters. Indeed, she hardly looked like a maid. She was tall and slender with a curvy figure. Her skin though wheatish in color was neat and supple and her dark, long hair would sport shiny ‘paranda’ that would kiss her butt when she would take pretentious steps that would make her gait look haughty. Her palms were painted with henna and lips with maroon lipstick. She was a real ‘cracker’ and hundred times prettier than the heroine of the movie, as Bala’s friend had remarked when he saw her. The words ‘prettier than the heroine of the movie’ made Bala conscious. Passive thoughts of his impassionate world broke the barriers at once and released themselves. He began thinking differently as if his thought process spotted a signal and changed tracks. ‘Is she the one made for me?’ The first profound feeling occurred to him in years.

Bala had been silently in pursuit of that damsel. He was shy, she was vivacious but oblivious to Bala’s presence – with such an odd situation things were not going anywhere. Bala was waiting for a clue – a sort of sign that could make things clearer to perceive. Living in a false impression of love was painful. Bala didn’t have to wait for long. One day Spogmay in her usual vivacious self appreciated Bala’s hair style. She touched the curly, dangling locks of his hair and said in a rather dreamy voice or that is what Bala thought so, ‘Long hair suits you too much!’ ‘You think so?’ Bala asked bewitched. ‘Ahan!’ She said in a style that was enough to melt him. He saw her leave, cent percent sure that she too was in love with him.

Dr. Khan’s garden was like a heaven of sweet fragrances, vibrant colors and now the hues of love too had mingled making it the most cherished place in the entire estate. Bala started gardening rather vigorously as if trying to grow the breed of most adorable flowers for his lover. He unflinchingly used to pick the best of the roses and present them to Spogmay. She would accept smilingly and put them by her pillow. The flowers were blossoming, the love was blooming and if something was waning that was Bala’s confidence. His visits to the local hakim had been drastically increased.

‘Hakim jee, I have a face like a hero, a fit body, enviable hair, job… everything but I have zero confidence. I have decided to marry and you’ve to help me.’ The pencil thin lips of hakim pursed up and then spread like a thread on his face when he smiled. ‘No problem son! I have fixed many such issues. Use this medicine twice a day for a month.’ He handed him a brown bottle full of thick syrup. ‘Get married and then witness the release of immense power hidden between your legs. You’d pray for me your entire life.’ Bala felt invigorated.

Amid the brigade of domestic servants if something is found in abundance that is jealousy. More or less like a professional jealousy because if one of the servants has been given certain perks, the others certainly feel the pinch. Bala was liked by his masters and hated by his fellow servants. One of the maids, who used to babysit Dr. Khan’s grand kids, had been carrying grudge against him since some time. She was in search of an appropriate chance to bring him down. She was fully aware of the budding romance between Spogmay and Bala. One hot afternoon in June, when the Khan family except Mrs. Khan had been away in the mountains, the maid came to Bala and said, ‘Heard you are getting married?’ ‘It’s none of your business.’ Bala didn’t like being quizzed that way. ‘Are you man enough to take a woman?’ This stunned Bala. He shouted at her and the next thing he knew was that the maid was clinging to his collar. That was sheer provocation; Bala tried to release himself but failed. He grabbed her braid; she grabbed his longish hair in both hands. It looked as if she was holding the horns of a wild goat. Bala felt intense stinging pain in his scalp, and started uttering expletives. The maid grabbed his chin and Bala’s front dentures came off. Spogmay and a few other servants came running out upon hearing the commotion. At that time, Bala was hitting maid’s shoulders crazily in order to release himself; she was yanking his hair, shouting like hell. Spogmay intervened and separated them. ‘Be a man Bala.’ She hissed. ‘She started it.’ Bala lisped without his dentures. ‘What happened to your teeth?’ She asked and broke into loud, callous laughter forgetting the entire fist fight that took place a while ago.

‘Be a man’ this sentence was hammering Bala’s head. It was as if she chewed and spat the word ‘man’ on his face. He was restless; he smashed the bottle of hakim’s syrup to the ground, put back his dentures and went straight to Mrs. Khan. ‘I am telling you begum jee both these women are evil. They’d rob the peace of this house if you didn’t fire them.’ He said after narrating the whole episode. Mrs. Khan didn’t like to let go Spogmay but Bala’s opinion about other servants was always trusted.

‘Bala let Dr. sahib and everyone come back. You’ve been attacked and your sentiments have been hurt. We won’t take any decision that could unsettle you. In the meantime for a change why don’t you go to your village? It’s been long you haven’t seen your mother.’ Mrs. Khan’s words were reassuring.

Bala packed his bags. Spogmay was standing on the driveway, Bala glanced at her; she turned her face away scornfully. With a trampled ego he didn’t feel like talking to her either. Bala left. But before boarding the bus he went to the barber and got his long locks chopped off.