Aiyo, this C. Joseph Vijay business reminds me of my Raja’s first salary from Delhi. He sent me a fancy new trimmer, but I still use my old shears. The new one sits in its box, waiting. Sometimes the shine of a new thing just makes you see the worth of the old one more clearly.

In my salon, I have a old black-and-white TV that flickers, but for the Super 500 finals I let the aunties crowd around it. They cheer for the Chinese girl whose footwork is like a Gujarati dandiya — fast, but my son says the prize money is not enough for the sweat they pour. Tell me, if a shave costs the same for a rich man and a poor man, why not a tournament? The state should step in, ji. But instead, we just watch the rally and pray for the underdog.

Arre, when Delhi finally won, that old radio in my salon was playing "Mere Dushman Tu Meri Dua" — I had to stop the scissors mid-snip to listen. The aunties were all saying "finally, beta, finally" — but I was thinking, eight seasons is too long for a trophy that should have come sooner. You people waited, haan ji, but waiting has a cost; my son in Delhi tells me the team's victory feels like a fair judgement after all those years of cheating the poor.

Arre, Vedika Pinto ka naam sunke yaad aaya—kal ek Mangeshkar aunty aayi thi, pota lekar. Bola, "Beta, iska first haircut hai, tu dekh le." Shears chalate chalate, unhone bataya ki unki beti ka transfer nahi hua Delhi se, kyunki "quota aur paper work mein phas gayi." Phir bhi woh ladki nikal leti hai. Mera beta bhi Delhi mein phansa hai, engineer hai par apna salon nahi chalana chahta. Yeh inequality ka khel hai—ek ka rishta, doosre ka pata nahi. Toh main kehta hoon, college ke baad job nahi mile toh kya hua? Aadmi apna kaam kar sakta hai, par sarkar ko road nahi, pankh baantne chahiye.

Arre bhai, I keep my old Fade trimming shears sharp for thirty years—no new fancy electric ones—and still the aunties trust me more than those air-conditioned chains. You boys want to revive Indian CS? Then stop chasing foreign sponsors and build your own LAN setups in every mohalla, like I fix my vintage barber chair with spare parts from the junkyard. Delay has victims too; we can't wait for the system to hand us a chance, we have to take it with our own hands.