The late Professor N Venkatasubramanian, erstwhile Professor of Botany at the venerable Presidency College, (then) Madras would have been horrified at seeing the visages of most modern men, considering that most look as if some topiary artist has done his work on them. Perhaps it is only appropriate that this uncle of mine shed his mortal coils almost forty years ago.
He was vehemently opposed to facial hair of any sort and during my teenage years, my first attempt at growing a mustache invited derisory allusions to the simian race. Depending on his assessment of how much of the face was covered, he would call the younger males of the family with sideburns 10% monkeys, with mustaches and sideburns 20 % monkeys and so on. He never did get to see my present handlebar or else would have definitely called me a 30 % monkey, at least!
Actually, this objection to mustaches especially is a bit surprising, because I have always associated the orthodox Tamil Brahmin (Tam Bram) with scruffiness. There are so many reasons they would have for not shaving - certain days of the week, certain asterisms or stars, some phases of the month, certain months itself, some functions, deaths or even births in the family - that my earliest impressions of most of those I saw when I was growing up was of insufficient grooming. My father and some of his friends were shining exceptions though - I have never seen any of them unshaven, ever. My father had a luxuriant mustache even - which again made him an exception in the community then. A peculiar usage which I have heard sometimes within our community is the description of a 'good' young man - doesn't even have a mustache, apart from not smoking, not drinking, not gambling, of course !
Related to all this was my being intrigued at seeing many of my family and community in headgear like turbans and hats, in photographs captured about a century ago. This is because unlike the North of India where many Hindu men cover their head especially at religious functions, in the South, the head is generally kept uncovered. Asking around, I solved this little mystery. While elders would grow their hair long and keep it in a tuft or a kudumi, youngsters would be required to have a 'ra' - the hair in the front of the head, drawing a line from ear to ear, would be shaved off. Apparently, some of them felt embarrassed to exhibit their half shaved pate or the tuft. Hence the headgear with those having tufts hiding them under the turbans. In today's more equal and similar world, the Tam Bram doesn't draw unnecessary attention to himself, especially in Tamil Nadu. Caste surnames have been shed more or less and even many of our priests have started discarding the tufts or kudumis.
Believing that social practices should always reflect prevailing mores, I think it is a good development especially the fact that it is not easy to guess the community or caste of a male just by sight, whether he is a mustachioed thirty percent monkey or a seventy percent bearded monkey!
He was vehemently opposed to facial hair of any sort and during my teenage years, my first attempt at growing a mustache invited derisory allusions to the simian race. Depending on his assessment of how much of the face was covered, he would call the younger males of the family with sideburns 10% monkeys, with mustaches and sideburns 20 % monkeys and so on. He never did get to see my present handlebar or else would have definitely called me a 30 % monkey, at least!
Actually, this objection to mustaches especially is a bit surprising, because I have always associated the orthodox Tamil Brahmin (Tam Bram) with scruffiness. There are so many reasons they would have for not shaving - certain days of the week, certain asterisms or stars, some phases of the month, certain months itself, some functions, deaths or even births in the family - that my earliest impressions of most of those I saw when I was growing up was of insufficient grooming. My father and some of his friends were shining exceptions though - I have never seen any of them unshaven, ever. My father had a luxuriant mustache even - which again made him an exception in the community then. A peculiar usage which I have heard sometimes within our community is the description of a 'good' young man - doesn't even have a mustache, apart from not smoking, not drinking, not gambling, of course !
Related to all this was my being intrigued at seeing many of my family and community in headgear like turbans and hats, in photographs captured about a century ago. This is because unlike the North of India where many Hindu men cover their head especially at religious functions, in the South, the head is generally kept uncovered. Asking around, I solved this little mystery. While elders would grow their hair long and keep it in a tuft or a kudumi, youngsters would be required to have a 'ra' - the hair in the front of the head, drawing a line from ear to ear, would be shaved off. Apparently, some of them felt embarrassed to exhibit their half shaved pate or the tuft. Hence the headgear with those having tufts hiding them under the turbans. In today's more equal and similar world, the Tam Bram doesn't draw unnecessary attention to himself, especially in Tamil Nadu. Caste surnames have been shed more or less and even many of our priests have started discarding the tufts or kudumis.
Believing that social practices should always reflect prevailing mores, I think it is a good development especially the fact that it is not easy to guess the community or caste of a male just by sight, whether he is a mustachioed thirty percent monkey or a seventy percent bearded monkey!
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