Ajoba's beard

Ajoba had nothing to do. He never had. To beat the heat, the peepal tree shook a wind and Ajoba took the cement seat under it on Yogi Nagar Road. Couple of months ago, the peepal was a peepal; then came a crowd of gods; hung themselves on the trunk; no suicides in these times of hangings; the devout after morning walks, lighted diyas and agarabattis to the gods or tree, Ajoba was not sure. But they did and Ajoba watched, waited for fleeing prasads; one old lady kept in reserve a modak for Ajoba and Ajoba, like the many strays on Yogi Nagar Road, wagged his torso; did a Salman Khan. Ajoba delights in modaks. Evenings, no prayers, no diyas, no prasads; windy, adda sessions with Ajoba playing bass notes like Mohini Dey; he packed the gossip in peepal leaves for unloading to Aji who did her jugalbandhi nearby on Link Road. But this evening, Ajoba strayed from routine; Aji was complaining his beard; 'go and shave it all,' was her refrain. If Ajoba has to start on anything -- reading, writing, gazing, talking - he has to play the beard, scratch it, tap it ...it helped Ajoba to think, rarely. But the beard was crawling over face and torso, dropping to the legs; he ate more of beard than food. He stumbled over to Alam's barber shop of years, dipped into an arm chair with a Salam alekum to Alam who returned an Ale kumsalam. Alam ran his fingers on Ajoba white forest, held it in his palms, said: 'Bahut din ho gaye.' Ajoba nodded and whispered, 'jara trim kar do. aur kainchi, machine nahin '. 'Hanji' said Alam thrusting into historic research: 'Kabse dadi hai?' That spun Ajoba to the day when he sighted the first strand of hair on his jaw. It was in Calcutta and he was at Hindi High School. The sighting was accidental; he was combing his long hair to be presentable to girl friend Padmini when a black strand upped itself. He did not know what to do; decided to refer the matter to Padmini; 'grow a beard, you will look good into it,' she said; he did not know whether it was a jest or a judge. The face got forested, the family protested, the beard went. Padmini also left with a 'Tumi amar sunbena (You wont listen to me)'. Oh, it is all faint. Padmini and Calcutta gone; Bombay came with a job. At the work place his Muslim friend, Rehman, donned a beard shawling his entire face; he was tall and the pounds of hair handsomed him. Ajoba took up again on the beard; Padmini blessed him, thanked him. Black is today black and white; not any lush growth; but suffiicient for Rama to protest and Alam to make some money. As Alam scissored, Padmini came up to remind Ajoba of his first beard, first love and first shave. Stopped, she exclaimed. Alam stopped. Padmini dusted Ajoba put a bit of smartness into him.