Gadigeppa Umachagi, 75, and Neelappa Chakaari, 65, are childhood friends, and have almost always given each other their monthly haircut . Umachagi has actually invested in basic barber tools that he and Chakaari share.“As children, our fathers cut our hair. Now I do it for our sons and grandsons and the odd friend. Local barbers refuse to cut our hair or give us a shave,” says Umachagi, carefully snipping his friend’s hair.In Koliwad, local barbers have boycotted dalits for years. Dalits form one-seventh of the local population of 7,000, and one often sees members of the community sitting in the verandah of their homes giving each other a haircut. Some manage their own hair trim with a little mirror perched in front of them. The only other option is to travel to Hubli, 45 km away, or Gadag, 25 km away, and use the services of a barber there.Quite a few dalit men also opt to grow their hair long and stay unshaven. Basappa Dodamani, a daily wage worker, hasn’t cut his hair or beard for 13 years now. “The last time I had a hair cut was in a barber shop in Dharwad in 2001. The next time I was turned away and in protest I stopped cutting my hair,” says Dodamani.Barbers in quite a few villages across the country refuse to serve dalits because of upper caste pressure. In Koliwada, the excuse for the boycott revolves around the annual palanquin procession held for Basavanna, the deity of the local Basaveshwara temple. The barber community has a role to play in the palanquin rituals and claims that dealing with dalits will “pollute” them. Ironically, Basavanna was a 12th century spiritual leader who fought against casteism all his life.In the last 60 years, the dalit community has protested against this discrimination at least on 10 different occasions. But village elders intervened to calm tempers. But this June, some dalit youths refused to back down. The quarrel led to the closure of all barber shops in the village. The Hubli taluk administration, gram panchyat, social welfare department and elders from upper caste communities are trying to end the stand-off but it doesn’t seem to be working. On Tuesday, local barbers agreed to serve dalit customers but they have yet to open their shops.Meanwhile, necessity has become the mother of hair-cutting skills. Dyamavva Kale has become quite deft with a pair of scissors because of her two grandsons aged 3 and 5. “It is now one of my main grandmotherly duties,” she quips. Her neighbour Renuka Iti, is busy clipping her son’s locks. He studies in Class IV, and the teacher has asked him to make sure that he has had a hair cut when he comes to class on Monday. She holds him tight to make sure he doesn’t fidget. “My hair isn’t all that trim,” complains the child as she finishes. Says Gangadhar Ganiger, former gram panchayat head, “We had a meeting of all groups including barbers and dalits, and asked the barbers to serve all communities and they agreed,” he says.But that may have been just to temporarily placate the dalits as the barber shops are still shut. Local barbers, members of the Hadapad community, claim they are bound by tradition. Says Ravi Hadapad, who runs a barber shop: “We haven’t served dalits for centuries and the practice has passed from one generation to another.”As for the salons remaining shut, barber Shivabasappa Hadapad maintains that it is not in defiance of the gram panchayat diktat. “We are working in our fields so we are keeping our shops shut. We will serve dalits when we open our shutters. At least, we will give the matter some thought,” he says.Agriculture is the main occupation in Koliwad and most dalits work as daily wage labourers in fields. Barbers, on the other hand, own land, ranging between two to eight acres. Koliwad boasts of a government-run primary and high school, an Urdu medium school, a few private schools and all most all households have a satellite TV connection. But progress hasn’t erased discrimination.