An untold tale of the Chinchus

This post is a part of the 'Shave or Crave' movement in association with BlogAdda.com


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This is a story of a land far far away. The name of this land was Chinchinin. This story is also based in an era ages ago, when Chinchinin was just born. When I say born, I mean human beings began living there. Whether these human beings were born there or migrated from somewhere is not known to us, but they began existing there.

The tribe was known as Chinchus. It was an extremely naïve simple tribe. For food, they hunted or ate herbs and fruits. They clothed themselves with woven leaves. There were no rules on social unions between members of the tribe and children born would be raised collectively by the tribe.  So basically the tribe lived in peace and harmony, love and affection towards each and every one.

Like all tribes the Chinchus also had a chief. Now the criterion for choosing the chief was, well, a little weird. The man most popular amongst the women would be chosen as the chief. This was decided basis his appearance, attractiveness, and how much affection he received from the women during the evening meetings. 

Oh, I forgot to mention that this tribe also had a weird way of showing affection. Unlike the other tribes existing then, who would, kiss, shake hands, rub noses, lock ankles, or do the boogie woogie and other normal stuff, the Chinchus would rub cheeks and chin with each other. Yes, that is how they showed affection. The men, hence always too extra great care of their beards. They kept it well cleaned, combed, oiled, ornamented it with feathers and beads and kept it nice and soft for their women.

So the existing chief of Chinchinin, Dadadi, was a tall handsome young man with the softest of beards, as soft as the softest beard could be. Every evening during the tribe meeting, the meeting began with the young womenfolk hovering around him and rubbing their faces against his cheeks. The public display of affection ceremony with the chief and later with their own men lasted for an hour before they discussed the other tribal affairs.

Now in this loving harmonious tribe, lived a mean guy named Meanmo. He had missed the position of the chief by a few cheek rubs and was extremely envious of Dadadi. He hated it every evening when the beautiful women rubbed their faces against Dadadi’s cheeks. He craved to be there; to have all those women around him.

So one night when everyone was fast asleep, Meanmo took a thin iron rod and started sharpening it to make it look like a knife, a sharp knife, a thin sharp knife. The next night Meanmo crept stealthily into Dadadis tent, took out the knife and shaved off Dadadi beard.

The next morning when Dadadi woke up and like the first thing every morning reached out to brush his beard, he let out blood curdling scream. All the Chinchus came running to his tent. They were shocked with what they saw; they stood astounded.

Then one of the women, the boldest amongst the lot stepped forward towards Dadadi. She walked slowly towards him and a little hesitantly rubbed her cheeks against his and she let out a gleeful squeal. The softness of his cheeks against her had made her ecstatic. She just could not stop herself. Seeing her, the other women also moved forward. On rubbing their faces against Dadadi’s they all had a similar experience. Suddenly there was chaos amongst the women. They just could not get enough of Dadadi. The men looked shocked especially Meanmo. After a flood of affection that seemed to last for hours, the tribe finally retired to their chores.

That evening Dadadi arrived at the meeting very pleased with himself looking forward to an eventful evening. But he was in for a rude shock. The minute the first woman came forward for the public display of affection, the moment she began, she held her hand to her face and she shrieked. Dadadi had grown stubble by then. His cheeks were not as soft as they had been that morning.

There was a murmur amongst the ones present there. Meanmo sported a sarcastic smile. Suddenly Dadadi had a brainwave. He called for the best blacksmith, Gilleto, and asked him to make a thin, really thin knife, in half an hour Gilleto came with an extremely thin knife and Dadadi used it to shave his stubble off. His cheeks were soft again. The women went mad with joy. Everyone was happy. They partied all night that night. As for Meanmo, he silently ran away from Chinchinin that night never to return again

Gilleto made such knives for all the men of Chinchinin and the next day they all shaved their beards off. The knives were named razors and the day was celebrated as Razor Day for many years to come. The Chinchus made it a point to shave every evening. The women were all very happy. The men were happy as the women displayed more affection than they ever had.

Word spread across lands and women from all over the world came in search of men from Chinchinin. Other tribes came up with their own forms of razors. The world became a happy place to live in.

Evening shaving became the in thing then and even today, ages and generations later, evening shaving and no stubble is still what women crave for.