Tapre Nayyud:

Tapre Nayyud:

The Mobile Half-Doctors

In the late 1980s, with the arrival of modern non-native barbershops, the legacy of grooming in Kashmir changed. Behind glass doors, these salons promise precision, convenience, and a certain urban elegance. Against this theatrical world, the street barber stands like a figure from another time with his simple tools.

A view from outside Ghulam Hassan Hajam’s stall at Hathmulla, Kulgam.

A small wooden cart, shaded by a corrugated metal roof, rests quietly against a stone wall. Beneath this, Ghulam Hassan Hajam, the barber, carefully shaves his friend’s beard with a khur, the traditional shaving blade.

In the mid-day air, beneath his comb, he sketches his long practice with confidence. His fingertips bring the water streams from the wounded bowl to kneel close to his friend’s cheeks.

People relied on “Tapre Nayud” not only for grooming but also for small medical procedures. From performing circumcisions to treating minor ailments, such as removing foot corns. Over the fields, they cut through the region. Under the mountains, they knew everything. Floating barbers fed on the belly of our Motherland. Life felt shared then, and now it is fractured into pieces.

A collection of Hassan’s khur/ Ustara, the traditional shaving blade and other equipment.

Despite the challenges facing the trade, a few street barbers persist, quietly sustaining a craft that has long been part of Kashmir’s everyday life. Among them is Ghulam Hassan Hajam, an elderly barber from Kulgam, who continues this practice. His quiet dedication reflects more than personal perseverance; it stands as a reminder of a fading tradition.

Hassan’s friend Muhiddin Bhat

On an average day, Hassan earns Rs. 300 to 500, and when there are no customers, he stays idle listening to his friend, Muhaddin’s reminisces.

A weathered barber’s mirror reflects a passerby, capturing a fleeting moment in time.

Without recognition or meaningful opportunities to sustain their livelihood, this age-old profession may gradually disappear. Preserving it requires more than nostalgia; it calls for society to acknowledge the quiet contributions these barbers have made for generations and to create the conditions that allow their craft to endure.