Most Bangaloreans, not so long ago, set aside Sundays for their weekly bathing ritual. There is no attempt here to suggest here that Bangaloreans did not bathe during the rest of the week, though some feel they can be excused for not getting into the shower, given the overcast skies and the chill in the air.
The Sunday shower differed from the daily ritual rinse in many ways and is not to be attempted on a working day, lest one misses the BTS bus to work. For, this weekly wash was no ordinary scrub, where one entered the shower with a tune on the lips and emerged with the towel drying the hair and the tune yet to reach the last stanza. The Sunday shower was an elaborate exercise that involved the entire household. The head of the house is assigned the duty of getting the huge copper cauldron of water boiling for which he has to stuff the fireplace in the bathroom with firewood, charcoal, cow dung cakes or anything combustible, including a broken rosewood chair or the children’s notebooks in times of emergency. And then, he’d work on the flames with the black iron blow pipe that would make a whistling sound as he empties the air from his lungs onto the embers.
One look at the neighbourhood from the terrace shows how many blow pipes are at work as the blue smoke billows out of the the long asbestos chimneys on the roof tops of all the houses in the locality. Chimneys usually have a perforated cap on the top to keep rainwater out and also to thwart the attempts of the mischievous boy wanting to drop his tennis ball into it, blocking the chimney and filling the bathroom with smoke.
The neighbour has no way of getting away by lying that he has had his bath. No smoking chimney, no bath.
For his efforts, the one working at the fireplace will get his scalp oiled with the thick viscous castor oil and the skin with the aromatic gingely oil. After several minutes of massaging the scalp and skin, the mixture of the washing medium is prepared. Soapnut powder and a green herbal powder are mixed in hot water and the compound is mixed thoroughly and applied on the hair after it is sufficiently wetted. Repeated applications of the mixture are made to remove the last traces of the adamant castor oil and then, as one steps out, the flaming red eyes from soapnut powder and smoke from the fireplace show that the weekly ritual is done.
Finally, one steps out of the house to feel the wind in the light, fluffy hair and announce to the neighbourhood that you haven’t skipped the bath.
vijaysimha@newindianexpress.com
1 comment:
It reminded me of one of my close friends Soju's bathe. It was a strictly followed routine that all of us(me, Soju, Arun, Reji and Ajayan were living in a rented house while in Thiruvananthapuram) take bathe before Soju goes to the bathroom. He locks himself in the bathroom for nearly three hours and squeeze a newly bought soap to almost one third. Every next day we hear the complaint: The soap is over! Surprised with his lengthy effort in the bathroom, to be frank, we made some attempts to peep into the bathroom to check how 'ritualistic' the process was. I still don't know how people can bathe daily for nearly three hours. It's not like frolicking in a stream or river for a long time once in three or six months. Three bathing hours a day is something which will fetch him a place in the record book, I think. Forget the time he consumes in the bathroom, the amount of soap and oil that diminishes per bathe was our greatest agony. I say thanks for reminding me of his bathe. Though it was like a nightmare at that time, it is something interesting when look back. Thank you
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