MOST OF the barbers in London are of Pakistani origin and I had been visiting a Salon since past eight years during my yearly visits. This time I met Samir a smart looking Gujrati, who had come to the London three years back, very friendly and told me he is working on three jobs daily and saving money to pay off the loans back in Surat, where he claimed to have a big salon of his own with a fairly large clientele. ‘Working hard and not even four hours of rest a day on an average isn’t good for health’, I opined for free as back home we are quite used to offering free advice to everyone. Only son, he was from a well off and large family of relatives but only one in his community settled abroad, gave their family a moral weightage for higher respect. Shuffling in multiple shifts as, a barber, a chef in restaurant and a regular for four hours a day in a ‘Home Cleaning Service’ had dreams to own a salon some day in London. I recalled Raj Kapoor singing ‘Bekar gujre hum is jagah se , bekar tha ye safar, ab dar badar ki khate hai thoker, Raja the hum apne ghar’ in ‘Around the world in eight dollars’. Samir, in spite of the drudgery, seems to be enjoying, I was intrigued. Trimming my hairs, he narrated a ‘weirdest tale’ I ever heard of ‘Moral Obligation’ to his “Pitru’ (father and elders) as the reason for his smiles.

 

His late father Roop Chand, also a barber, served one British officer Allen Burton of East India Co. He would converse in broken English with Allen and over the years both became very close friends which developed into a strange bond of friendship and immense mutual respect. Roop Chand addressed him as ‘Phirang ji’ and Allen would call him ‘Barber Ji’. They would enjoy fishing together and share a drink in the evenings and never miss a single day to meet and laugh like kids and would be absolutely ‘Blissfully Happy’ in each other’s company. And town folks called them brothers of previous birth and mutual respect and acceptance had strongly bound both the families too. Post freedom, Allen moved back to England. Both the friends hugged and cried like children while bidding good bye. Allen always wanted Roop Chand to come and settle in England to continue their friendship which never came through but they never lost contact and through letters, both would pour their heart out and would eagerly await the monthly ‘Dak’ from each side. Both the friends passed away in their late eighties, within six months of each other with a burning desire to meet again. Each had preserved the letters carefully, containing the weather, development around town, health of each of the family members and repeated promises to meet soon to smile, laugh and be happy like old days. Allen was very well read and acknowledged that India’s poverty was caused due to plundering by nations like Mangolia, Turkey, Spain, Portugal, France and maximum by Britain.

 

Both friends always craved and yearned to touch and hold each other. Allen died quite rich, deeply pained by his inability to meet his dear friend but had instructed his son Alfred to continue the contacts with his friend’s family. Samir never failed to conduct yearly ‘Pitru Shradhdh’ of his Father and Allen. Thirteen years after his father’s demise, Alfred was diagnosed with blood cancer. He wrote to Samir, informing him of his illness and the limited time he has, he begged Samir to come over to England. He said ‘as if my late father is compelling me to settle Barber ji’s family in London’. Respected Firang ji’s wishes were impossible to ignore, leaving no option for Samir and after six months of agonising paperwork, he reached London with his wife. They were picked up and accommodated near Alfred’s villa and honoured like a brother. Within a month, Alfred passed away contended and at peace. Samir, fiercely independent, shifted in a cheaper accommodation, as he didn’t want to prolong the obligations of late Alfred’s family and started working. He meets Alfreds every month for family dinner and always takes the seat as the head of the family. They are planning to publish a book of letters exchanged between the late friends. Samir highly respected in the Alfred’s home is aptly addressed as ‘Barber ji’.