Shear devotion: The barbers of Tirupati

Eight years before his death in 2012, Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv left many scampering for synthetic wigs. Israel's arbiter of Jewish law had, in 2004, banned wigs made from Indian tresses. The hair was associated with idolatrous Hindu rites, he said, making it off-limits for Orthodox Jews. Most women from the community, who'd use hairpieces to cover their hair out of modesty, then opted for synthetic products after burning the real hair wigs.
But the edict created no dent in the business of Tirumala Tirupati Devasthanams (TTD), the trust managing approximately 28 temples in India. Almost all TTD temples offer chudakarana (hair tonsuring) services, but the jewel in the crown – Tirumala Venkateswara temple – fetches Rs.250-275 crore from annual e-auctions of hair donated by devotees. On June 12 alone, a whopping 85,518 heads were shaved at Kalyanakatta, a building outside the temple dedicated solely for the purpose. Although thousands are also tonsured at TTD's guesthouses, Kalyanakatta is perhaps ground zero of the global wig industry, its gears oiled by the likes of M. Subba Rayudu.

"Around 80 on holy days, weekends and the holiday season. 40 otherwise," says Rayudu, referring to his daily workload. The second-generation barber has tonsured heads at Tirumala for three years running. Before that, he had his own salon. "But unke pita ka late ho gaya," chips in Rayudu's brother-in-law T Siva Kumar, alluding to the demise of the former's father, who'd worked there for 34 years. Rayudu was then absorbed into the Kalyanakatta fold as permanent TTD employee.

Head tonsuring at Tirumala is an epoch-making event in the lives of millions, a metamorphosis upon having a wish fulfilled, a miracle witnessed, a loved one pass away or the ego tamed. And the barbers are central, yet largely overlooked in this narrative. Reports peg the number at around 600 full-timers, but Rayudu estimates that the total workforce is some 1,800 strong – of which around 700 are permanent and the rest, 'piece-rate' (part-time) and sevak (volunteer) barbers. While piece-rate employees work six-hour shifts, Rayudu – a full-timer – works eight hours, seven days a week for 15 days a month. The first shift kicks off at2 a.m. before Suprabhatam seva or the first aarti (2.30-3.00a.m.), and the last at midnight.

Siva Kumar's father worked 15 years at the temple as a piece-rate barber. Back in the day, the rate was Rs.2 per person, he informs. Today, it's Rs.7 for a full tonsure and Rs.3 for a partial one. All barbers must wear white sampradaya vastra or traditional clothing and a tilakam on the forehead. And only those from the Nayee Brahmin (a term sometimes used interchangeably with Nai) caste can work at TTD temples. Barbers from other castes won't find a way in.

The skill of the temple barber lies not just in big tonsure counts. It's about being able to do clean mundans of wailing, flailing tots. A nick is like a teacher's red ink on one's report card – particularly in the case of infants aged 3-9 months as their scalps are tender. "It can be tough," Rayudu smiles. "Children get agitated, so we don't rush if parents have a hard time holding them still." Dealing with senior citizens and the differently-abled too can be challenging, he says. Although they form separate queues for darshanam (worship), there's no such provision at the Kalyanakatta. Their fatigue, as also that of thousands who spends hours in the queue, makes them cranky and irate. Because of the swelling numbers, the barbers' lunch break lasts barely 10 minutes.

A job as demanding as this is bound to have repercussions. Being constantly seated and having no breaks after overworking the arms results in sore legs, wrists, shoulders and a bad back. "But you get used to it. In fact you can't use a barber chair after shaving heads this way. What takes several minutes in a chair is done in half the time here," Rayudu stresses.

The Kalyanakatta has not been without controversy. Whispers of part-timers demanding money on the side and hair being sold discreetly for personal gain plagued its reputation. Just last month, CCTVs were installed all around the complex to track misconduct.

But the biggest shift had come in 2006, when TTD caved in to pressure from women workers' unions and rights groups like All India Democratic Women's Association (AIDWA) to employ female barbers. It was a long struggle, outlines Rama Devi, secretary, AIDWA Andhra Pradesh. Although women had jobs in other TTD departments, there was staunch opposition to them joining this profession not only because it's male-dominated, but because the Agamas (scriptures on temple management and rituals) do not mandate it. And a majority of male barbers too were opposed as they felt threatened or believed vacancies should instead be filled by other men in dire need of jobs.

"Even now, all 60 women barbers are part-time, not permanent," points out Rama Devi. "Piece-rate barbers get just Rs.2,000-3,000 a month." During the just-concluded peak season at Tirumala Venkateswara temple, 150 women barbers were hired on a temporary basis to help manage higher footfalls at Kalyanakatta. And like most Hindu places of worship, they don't enter the premises or work if they're menstruating.

No part-time barbers at the temple, whether male or female, have incentives like free darshanam for the family, daily prasadam and laddoo card, a bus pass or living quarters. Their demands for higher pay and greater parity with their full-time counterparts found form as written proposals to TTD and the state government. Time will tell whether this will bear fruit.

Rayudu may be relatively better off compared to the part-timers, but unlike others whose offspring carried the family 'tradition' forward, he doesn't want his son to do the same. His life is devoted to the lord, he says, but doesn't expect that of his child. "My father was uneducated. I was a school dropout. But I want my son to be well-educated and go far in life," he says. "Tell me, what barber would want his child to become a barber?"