The barber has been summed up by a district official [58] as "one of the most useful of the village servants. He leads an industrious life, his services being in demand on all occasions of marriages, feasts, and funerals. He often combines in himself the three useful vocations of hair-dresser, surgeon, and musician. In the early hours of the morning, he may be seen going his rounds to his employers' houses in his capacity of shaver and hair-cutter. Later on, he will be leading the village band of musicians before a wedding procession, or playing at a temple ceremony. Yet again he may be observed paying his professional visits as Vythian or physician, with his knapsack of surgical instruments and cutaneous drugs tucked under his arm. By long practice the barber becomes a fairly skilful operator with the knife, which he uses in a rough and ready manner. He lances ulcers and carbuncles, and even essays his hand in affections of the eye, often with the most disastrous results. It is the barber who takes away cricks and sprains, procures leeches for those wishing to be bled, and otherwise relieves the physical ills of his patients. The barber woman, on the other hand, is the accoucheuse and midwife of the village matrons. It may be said without exaggeration that many of the uterine ailments which furnish patients to the maternity wards of the various hospitals in this country are attributable to the rude treatment of the village midwife."
The Ambattan will cut the nails, and shave not only the head and face, but other parts of the body, whereas the Telugu barber will shave only down to the waist. The depilatory operations on women are performed by female hair-dressers. Barbers' sons are taught to shave by taking the bottom of an old well-burnt clay cooking-pot, and, with a blunt knife, scraping off the collected carbon. They then commence to operate on pubescent youths. The barber who shaves Europeans must not be a caste barber, but is either a Muhammadan or a non-caste man. Quite recently, a youthful Ambattan had to undergo ceremonial purification for having unconsciously shaved a Paraiyan. Paraiyans, Malas, and other classes of the lower orders, have their own barbers and washermen. Razors are, however, sometime lent to them by the Ambattans for a small consideration, and cleansed in water when they are returned. Parasitic skin diseases are said to originate from the application of a razor, which has been used on a number of miscellaneous individuals. And well-to-do Hindus now keep their own razor, which the barber uses when he comes to shave them. In the southern districts, it is not usual for the Ambattans to go to the houses of their customers, but they have sheds at the backs of their own houses, where they attend to them from daybreak till about mid-day. Occasionally, when sent for, they will wait on Brahmans and high-class non-Brahmans at their houses. Numbers of them, besides, wait for customers near the riverside. Like the English hair-cutter, the Ambattan is a chatter-box, retails the petty gossip of the station, and is always posted in the latest local news and scandal. The barbers attached to British regiments are migratory, and, it is said, have friends and connections in all military cantonments, with whom they exchange news, and hold social intercourse. The Ambattan fills the rôle of negotiator and go-between in the arrangement of marriages, feasts, and funeral. He is, moreover, the village physician and surgeon, and, in the days when blood-letting was still in vogue, the operation of phlebotomy was part of his business. In modern times, his nose has, like that of the village potter, been put out of joint by civil hospitals and dispensaries. His medicines consist of pills made from indigenous drugs, the nature of which he does not reveal. His surgical instrument is the razor which he uses for shaving, and he does not resort to it until local applications, e.g., in a case of carbuncle, have failed.