His is the oldest barber’s shop on the Crossing Street road. Long before there were others. With nothing fancy but two wooden chairs and simple mirrors at the back, side and front wall. Fresh newspaper lying on the side wooden bench that had many cracks in it with a few holes here and there. A souvenir, something like a locket, probably from Mecca, hung from the front wall beside the frame that had Mecca painted on it. What was left of the side walls after the mirrors, was covered with posters of Bollywood actors at the top and leaves of Hindi newspapers at the bottom. Spider nets, who probably wanted to compensate for the lack of anything fashionable, were hanging from every possible place, object, and corner. Not that he didn’t care for cleanliness or was cynical about it but, one – he didn’t have time for unproductive chores, and two – he knew people won’t mind. And it was true, they didn’t; for they loved coming there and it had perhaps nothing to do with the fact that they had similar situation or worse back at their homes.
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2nd in the series of illustration: Blurry Faces Of The City