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One of my published columns in The Brunei Times (above) dating back to March 2009 was a condensed version of my LITTLE INDIA post. Thanks to my son Jamie who until today still prefers to get his hair cut at an Indian barbershop over a proper hair salon, my fascination of Little India grew both in the metaphorical and literal sense. These days I tend to bring my camera and my favourite 50mm f/1.4 lens around and I’m glad there were times (like this) when instincts made more sense then commonsense. Having featured this particular barbershop in the papers and being a regular customer, it helps build rapport which in turn establishes a comfort zone with my new found barbershop friends.
I don’t remember if I ever had a hair cut in an Indian barbershop like this one when I was little. I do recall the time when I no longer found it appropriate for my mom to double as a barber at home (I think that’s a period of my life called ‘teenage years’). I hope she took that as part of my growing up and took no offense at my rather abrupt insistence for her to stop cutting my hair. As a parent the thought of going near Jamie’s hair with a pair of scissors crossed my mind more than once but quickly tossed that idea out. For a few dollars it’s more rewarding to sit next to him at the shop and have an Indian massage while he’s getting the trim and then leaving the place to grab a drink afterwards.