Tirunelveli, a bustling town known for its famous halwa and lively bazaars, was never prepared for the kind of chaos that erupted one sunny morning at “Muthu’s Royal Hair Saloon.”
Muthu, the town’s most trusted barber, was a man of precision. His customers swore by his smooth razor strokes and perfect moustache trims. Among them, none was prouder of his moustache than Periyasamy – a man whose moustache wasn’t just facial hair; it was a symbol of pride, power, and lineage. Local kids claimed Periyasamy’s moustache had its own gravitational pull. Women whispered about how it could slice through an argument with a single twirl.
The Morning Disaster
That morning, Periyasamy walked into Muthu’s shop with his usual swagger. The bell at the door jingled nervously, as though it knew trouble was coming.
“Trim it, Muthu. But remember, even one wrong move, and this town will forget your name,” Periyasamy warned, pointing at his mighty moustache like a king guarding his crown.
Muthu nodded. He had trimmed this moustache a hundred times. What could possibly go wrong?
Unfortunately, the universe had other plans. Just as Muthu was about to make the final snip, his cousin Kannan burst into the shop yelling, “MUTHU! Did you hear? The lottery—”
Startled, Muthu’s razor slipped.
Half of Periyasamy’s moustache vanished in a single stroke.
The room went silent. Even the ceiling fan seemed to stop spinning.
The Explosion
Periyasamy stared at the mirror, frozen. His right side still boasted a glorious moustache, while the left side was as bare as a peeled coconut.
“You…” Periyasamy’s voice trembled. “You have committed the ultimate sin, Muthu. Do you know what this moustache means? My father’s dying wish was—”
“Anna, please, I will fix it!” Muthu begged, his palms sweaty.
“FIX IT? Will you glue it back? Or draw it with chalk? My wedding anniversary is tonight!”
Before Muthu could reply, Periyasamy stormed out into the market, screaming, “Muthu shaved my moustache!”
The Town Reacts
The news spread faster than the smell of hot bajjis in Tirunelveli market. By afternoon, half the town had gathered outside Muthu’s saloon. Some were laughing so hard they had tears streaming down their faces, while others treated it as if Muthu had committed a crime against tradition itself.
An elderly man said, “A moustache is a man’s pride! Without it, Periyasamy looks like a goat who failed a personality test!”
A group of kids began following Periyasamy, chanting, “Half hero! Half hero!” while others pretended to faint at the sight of his lopsided face.
Muthu in Trouble
By evening, the matter had escalated. Periyasamy’s brothers – all big men with even bigger moustaches – stormed into Muthu’s shop.
“You insulted our brother’s face! We will take your scissors and—”
“Wait!” shouted Selvi, Muthu’s wife, entering the shop with a rolling pin in hand. “My husband didn’t mean to! You all are fighting over hair like it’s gold. If you hurt him, who will cut your precious moustaches tomorrow?”
The brothers paused. She had a point.
The Rescue Plan
In an unexpected twist, the whole town decided to fix the problem together. Chinnaiah, the town painter, suggested painting a fake moustache on Periyasamy for the anniversary night. But the paint smudged, making him look like a villain from a bad 90s movie.
Finally, the idea came from old man Ramasamy, who ran the halwa shop. “Why not trim the other side to match? You’ll look balanced. Like a clean warrior.”
Periyasamy’s ego was stronger than his common sense. “Me? Without a moustache? Never!”
But as he looked at his reflection – one side bold, the other bare – even he couldn’t hold his laughter. The crowd joined in, and soon the anger melted into a chorus of giggles.
The Happy Ending
Muthu carefully shaved off the other half, giving Periyasamy a fresh start. “Think of it as a new chapter,” Muthu said, with the solemnity of a monk.
That night, Periyasamy walked into his anniversary party without his moustache. His wife, Lakshmi, took one look and laughed so hard she spilled the sambhar. “You look ten years younger!” she said.
The town cheered for Muthu, forgiving him for the blunder. In fact, the next day, half the men of Tirunelveli lined up at his saloon asking for a “Periyasamy shave.” It became a new trend.
Moral of the Story
Pride in appearance is good, but a little laughter at our own expense makes life easier.
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