In India, twirling a moustache can start a riot

When the India cricket team won the third Test against Australia, Man of the Match Shikhar Dhawan was seen twirling his moustache while being interviewed at the presentation ceremony. It appeared to be a purely involuntary, innocent action. Dhawan could be forgiven even if it was a conscious act; it was his day for sure. Interestingly, even though he twisted his moustache, there was humility in his tone.

The simple act became a topic of discussion on news television. A commentator predicted that the act was bound to influence budding cricketers and spawn a flood of Dhawan moustaches.

The moustache, however, has always had a special place in the Indian milieu, especially in a feudal setup. History is replete with instances of how a moustache twirled at the wrong time and place caused caste and class wars. It sowed the seeds of hatred that were passed down generations.

During my college days, I was embroiled in a clash sparked by a classmate twisting his imposing moustache. I was one of the ‘troika’ (tigadda in Hindi), as college mates used to call my friends, Janak, Radhu, and me.

Being 18-20 years old, we were enjoying the first crop of velvety down on our faces. It was our precious possession that we wanted to preserve as long as possible. We knew that once we shaved, we won’t feel that feather touch for some time. So, we got ourselves photographed.

One day, while having lunch at a dhaba (eatery), Janak and Radhu had a tiff with a college mate Atul. Unlike us, Atul sported a thick moustache which he thought gave him an edge over us. The minor tiff turned into a heated exchange when Atul twisted his well-groomed moustache in derision.

Taking it as an affront, my friends vowed to teach Atul the lesson of his life. Being in the troika I was also involved as an accomplice.

Plan of action

It was decided that Janak and Radhu — being taller than me — would overpower Atul and pin him down while I shaved off his offending moustache. Since none of us possessed a razor, a piece was bought for the occasion.

The plan was ludicrous! None of us had any experience using a razor, yet I was supposed to clean shave, in one go, the offending moustache of a person, who would be struggling to get out of the clutches of his captors!

Like a hawk, we kept an eye on Atul who was having his dinner at the dhaba. We waited for the right opportunity. As soon as he came out of the eating place on the roadside, Janak and Radhu pounced on him. I readied myself with my razor ‘weapon’.

But things went awry. Atul put up a brave fight. Our street brawl attracted a large crowd. Someone shouted, “Call the police.” (There were no emergency phone numbers or police patrol cars those days. One had to go to the police station to seek help).

Now, it was the turn of angry passersby to pounce upon the attackers.

Discretion being the better part of valour, my friends quietly slipped away and reached our rented room. I was left in the lurch with a brand new razor in my hand.

The crowd, led by Atul, was looking for all of us at that late evening hour. I had to decide how to save myself.

Taking advantage of my short stature, I mingled with the crowd of ‘hunters’— all taller than me. In fact, I joined in their hunt for my friends and, of course, me!

For a little while I walked right behind Atul himself, like his shadow, but he did not spot me.

At the first available opportunity, I also slipped out and joined my friends, who hugged me in relief.

Two days later, on learning that on Atul’s complaint, the police was looking for us, we informed our families. We did not stay in the rented room. For the whole next week, we had a harrowing time. Mercifully, things cooled down. Our parents and the police brought us together for a compromise.

Each of us was asked to apologise to Atul and we did so reluctantly. He accepted our apology with a glint in his eyes — but not before twisting his moustache again, significantly, this time with both hands! We had no option but to endure. We did not even have matching moustaches.

Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.