After nearly 5 1/2 years of living in this God forsaken place, I have finally found my personal barber. In old town Dhaka, of all places.

I have found myself in a bit of a funk this week so far since my food poisoning episode from last weekend. I've missed 4 of my 5 workouts already (Sun-Thur). I run at a very strict routine throughout the week. The way I eat, certain exercises on certain days, the pattern in which I shave, etc. I do not like compromising my strict schedule, it gets me very upset and a bit depressed from time to time. The only way I would skip an entire week without working out by choice is if someone offered me a week on a large yacht somewhere in the Mediterranean. I don't see that happening anytime soon so you can imagine my frustration.

One of my friends asked what she could to for me to get my out of this funk. I responded kindly in saying there really isn't anyone that can do anything. I was wrong. I planned on going to get my haircut today so I did. I went to the place I usually go to, which is about a block away from my home. The streets are usually busy with traffic - people/vehicles. When I entered the barbershop, not a single customer was in sight. I usually go to places mid-week as it is the slowest times of business in the week; I prefer going during the early afternoon hours. One of the barbers had to get up from the idle positions and luckily it was the one that I was immensely satisfied with.

There is an art to grooming. There is an art in cutting or styling hair, an art to shaving and so on. It's strange how a random act in a single day can lift your spirits and you find it in the most unlikely of places. It was a difficult transition for me when I left California in 2005. I had my own personal barber there as well, a kind older gentleman who had moved from New York. The fine precision and concentration on this new barber's face was magnificent. I was sold. I quickly typed his name into my BlackBerry and there he was labeled, "my personal barber." He made sure to ask me if I wanted a shave and a facial along with my cut as anyone else would down here. It was very tempting but my intention was strictly to get my hair cut. I had to reject his offer but made sure I'd be back to get all of that done by his wonderful talents.

The more exciting fact is that haircuts down here are very cheap. A very good and quality haircut in the States should be around $40 (USD) for men. My haircut today - minus the tip - was TK60. For those who don't know, $1 (USD) is TK70 (TK is taka) so you do that math, ladies and gentleman. Yes, I know, mind blowing. Even though the experience lasted around about fifteen minutes, it was pure delight. There are things we do not realize when we are younger. As we get older, we gradually pick out the simple and subtle details in our lives. The way we cut our hair, how we eat, which suit to wear on which day, and how do I get to work the quickest possible. To look good, you have to feel good. And it's moments like these, getting my hair cut in the most proper manner, makes you feel really good. This goes for both men and women. Although, I feel sorry for the women since their visit to the comb and scissors are much more expensive than a man's visit.