I Am a Crème Brûlée

Friendly barber. Photo: Asit Das

Refreshing slaps. Photo: Asit Das

Today I went and got myself a beauty treatment. It was my first. I am very skeptical about anything promoted as having a beautifying effect, believing they can do no better than having no effect at all.
Nonetheless, when I followed my friends Jitendra and Asit into the barber shop in Koregaon Park in Pune I took the full package on offer. I felt the call of the single ambition expressed in my high school yearbook: “to experience”. I was thinking Hendrix but this was a little more reality show makeover.

It began with a harmless haircut. The man who conducted every aspect of my rejuvenation proved a competent barber. He took great care to follow each consultation with caution, trimming mere millimeters and awaiting my confirmation before proceeding, in order to overcome any misunderstanding created by the language barrier.

Next came a head massage, which had me worried I’d come out without hair as it was very brusque and went on for some time. I was also unsettled when the oil he applied went on cold and then began to burn with an effect similar to tiger balm. I guess it contained camphor or menthol.  The massage included a vibrating machine, which reminded me of an industrial buffer and included an expedition into my ear cavity, as well as a rigorous round of skull slapping, both of which I enjoyed. Despite my initial misgivings, when I opened my eyes my hair was mostly there, looking pleasingly ruffled.

This was unpleasant. Photo: Asit Das

At this point my host showed me the shop’s extensive menu. I declined facial bleaching but, intending to get a complete experience, I chose a scrub/steam/oil combo. There were two options available – normal or “bio” i.e. organic. I hesitantly chose the more expensive “bio”, thinking, on the one hand it might contain fewer chemical irritants, yet on the other, perhaps organic is just as irritating.  Aren’t creosote and borax organic?

The scrub was abrasive and vigorously applied. After round one I was already glowing. A surprising blast of cold water from a spray bottle loosened the scrub, dead skin and sludge residue remaining on my face which was then toweled off.  Another layer of creamy ointment was slathered upon my visage with a soft, fur-like brush and massaged into the creases. As these substances covered my eyes I kept them closed.  My auditory sense was unable to provide any indication of what came next.

A right rosy glow, eh? Photo: Asit Das

A blast of hot air emanated suddenly from an appliance held in immediate proximity to my face. I tried to keep from cringing, telling myself any reaction would be more likely to get me burned than if I just relaxed and sat through it. I imagined it to be a homemade hairdryer made from the exposed heating element of a toaster oven. Later I learned that this was the steam treatment. The objective was apparently to heat up the ointment on my face and so open my pores in preparation for what was to come next.

A round-edged metal implement was gouged into the oily creases between my cheek and nose and over my nose to squeeze out the grit which form blackheads. This was extremely vigorous but my fear that it drew blood was unfounded.
Once again I was toweled off. Then a final layer of goo was pasted onto my face and a fan was directed at me and set at a low level. After several minutes this last layer was wiped away using the same towel and I could open my eyes again.

Finally, a gentle shampoo left me feeling completely cleansed of all remaining ointments, oils or non-essential skin layers.

Giving my best Bean. Photo: Asit Das

I was told I looked years younger, however, I think it had more to do with way my hair was combed flat and the expression of mild shock than my scraped, buffed and polished face.