This rant is flowing out from pent up thoughts of many
years, probably decades. The irksome act that has triggered this post is what
the ubiquitous young Chennai male does in front of the mirror in a restroom.
When a desi “doood” enters the restroom, please bear in mind
that the primary purpose is dressing up and the secondary is putting the flush
tank to use. He stands in front of the mirror to take in his awesomeness and
then stands there for more. Next, he gets on to washing his face, an act which
requires about 2 litres of water being splashed on to the face, with some 1
litre flowing from the tap to the drain.
After water has been passed on from the inlet pipes to his
face, the drain, the mirror and anything in a 1 foot radius, he slowly rises up
to check if his awesomeness is still intact. He then resumes the act of taking
in the awesomeness that was not washed away and with a generous pull-out of
paper towels, he wipes his face and hands clean. After disposing the used
towels, it is back to taking in some more of the awesomeness.
The “doood” then pulls out a small comb or some such
contraption that has been procured primarily for its small size that can fit
into the back pocket of a trouser. He now proceeds to comb his hair, repeating
the sweep many times over. The hand that doesn’t have the comb goes around
patting the combed hair just to quell any rebellion the strands may have
planned. For added effect, there is a liberal movement of the neck for about
180 degrees, to ensure that not a single strand has moved away from its prescribed
position.
Now comes a small variant in the action, caused by the
presence or absence of facial hair in some “dooods”. The ones without any
facial hair move on to the action in the next paragraph, whereas the ones, who
don’t, move to the next sentence. The comb apparatus is now used to brush the
moustache and beard if applicable, again with a lot of focus on aligning the
strands to the prescribed position.
Finally, the said comb is then tucked back into the rear
pocket with or without a wash, based on the time available on hand. Then it is
again back to taking in the awesomeness. You see, I am fine with all this
grooming because the probability of hairstyle to change in an hour or so is
quite minimal, unless one is in the path of a major gust of wind, the
probability of which is even lower, especially in Chennai. What I simply cannot
understand is the next stage of the dressing up activity.
This next and in most cases final stage, involves the
tucking in of the shirt inside the trousers. Sometimes it is also a T-shirt,
but I digress. The fashion rules of Chennai somehow mandates that one should
tuck in the shirt such that some portion of the tuck, spills over to the belt.
Maybe it is a rule created to cover up the grossly worn out belt or the fact
that the belt is so big that it wraps to near your rear.
The “dooods” spend a good part of the next 4 minutes to
pummel the shirt inside the trouser, brush it to ensure that it sticks to the
position over the belt, adjust the trousers by jiggling them a little, once again
brushing the shirt, then jiggle some more….you get the drift. There is of
course a liberal turning of one’s body to the maximum extent possible, so that
one can see how the shirt is tucked in at the sides and part of the rear.
You wonder why I don’t understand the need to spend so much
time in tucking in the shirt? Simple. The minute you take 5-6 steps, there is a
clear movement of your clothes and all the tucking in will slowly ease itself out
of the contrived placements. Also, invariably, the “doood” is going to sit on a
chair either at his work-desk or in the cafeteria. In any case, physics and
biology clearly dictate that the shirt will move, thereby negating all the time
spent in correcting it in the restroom. So why do people still do it? Is it
because they want even a casual onlooker to ignore the fact that the ubiquitous
young Chennai male is wearing a striped t-shirt, tucked into a dark terry-cotton
trouser with a white sneaker to complete the ensemble?
