“Beta, fair n lovely kyun nahi lagaati.. gori ho jaogi..”
“Aye, damdami maai”, “kilvish”, “kallo”
“Apni age ke hisab se to moti ho... abhi to bacchi ho fir bhi.. kam khaya karo thora beta..”
“Features to ache hain, thori gori aur hoti to kya baat thi.”
Every time. Every family event. Every time I stepped out the door.. or even stayed in..
Given the beauty standards in India.. I was by far the least favorite kind... And not just childhood.. the symphony of these words didn’t leave me till college.. even at my job a few people have pointed out to me..
My nain-naksha are good.. if only I were fairer.
One gentleman nonchalantly commented that if and when I go in the dark, children would get scared of me..
I’d always been a chubby child.. chubbiest of all I believe.. and duskiest of all.. that’s for sure..
I’ve always been led to believe that it would be very difficult for my parents to get me married to a nice family because of both the qualities I possessed.. And so it began... the heaps of fairness creams and face packs.. with dieting side by side..
At the age when I didn’t understand the difference between history and civics.. I clearly understood that I was too dark and too chubby... that there was something seriously wrong with me.
For my mother I’d always be perfect... Heck I could have murdered someone and she wouldn’t find any fault in me... and whenever I would complain to her about people calling me names... she would just hug me, kiss my forehead.. and soothe me down... for her,
Her Peepu was beautiful.. still is..
Every now and then, I’d hear a comment and it’d make me beyond angry and sad.. I was just a child.!
I tried not to let these affect me, but it’s impossible.. to not have your confidence and self respect shaken down.. by the constant snarks.. especially if they ended with,
”arre hum to mazak kar rahe the, tum toh bura maan gai.”
It may be an innocent joke for others.. but it made me question things.. all the things... and my confidence went all the way down.. and thud.! I could never stand out... I had the talent.. I had the creativity.. I didn’t have the courage.. not anymore.. with the way I was, I’d always be someone’s shadow...
In tuitions, boys would be googling over fair girls... asking them to be friends.. more than friends.. not that I wanted any of that.. but it’s still nice to be noticed, right?
Surprisingly, by the time I joined college, I had lost a lot of weight.. but I’d always be hungry, my head would constantly ache.. I didn’t eat proper food... even though I didn’t have any knowledge of carbs.. I avoided my rotis and breads.. I’d eat sabzi and curd mostly... and that too at long intervals.. I’d walk 2-3 hours daily.. I was always tired.. my grades were down.. but... I was skinny.. and that’s the only thing that mattered to me...
Fucked up priorities.. but they felt right then...
I was quite sought after in college.. it maybe messed up.. but boy was I on cloud nine..! Suck it school life.. People knew me here, I was no more a shadow.. I was my own being..
By the time I got my job.. I again started putting on a little weight.. and I always had a few good people to remind me of that.. in the worst ways. I joined a gym, but quit after two months.. and then it started again.. the haphazard weight gain.. I couldn’t control it.. this wasn’t supposed to be happening to me.. and I was panicking..
To this date I cannot remember for the life of me, when I was happy with my body or the color of my skin.. actually happy.. I became my worst critic.. the society had to wait in queue.
I remember, for my best friend’s wedding, I went on this crazy diet for 3 months.. I hated it to the very core.. but I was losing weight.. so it was all good..
I thought of continuing the diet, but obviously I couldn’t, it was so damn hard..
And when I couldn’t, two lines started to show on my tummy instead of one.. and I felt horrible.
Along with the diet, my morning and night skincare routine and dozens of face masks bottled up on my shelf didn’t make it any better for me.. if I didn’t use them vigorously, I’d feel the disappointment.
Even after 29 years I still struggle to understand the fetish with a fair skin.. If you have one, it’s great..
I just can’t fathom how it becomes an existential crisis for me..
Things have toned down to quite an extent over time, but it still persists.. especially in northern part of the country to which I proudly belong..
Even today, if someone makes a comment, I shoo them away like I don’t care.. but I’d be lying if I say I don’t..
But today, I just wanna thank my body.. with whatever amount of melanin it contains.. I want to thank it for engulfing me for so many years.. tolerating it.. not reacting back.. to whatever shit I put it through.. and still do..
“For all so many comfort foods I overate, I ridiculed you if it showed on the belly or anywhere else.. for how tan I’d get if I didn’t care for sunblock.. for how my body slouches even though I still sit with one leg in living room and the other outside the apartment.. for all the times I stayed awake or partied through the night with no regard to you.. and complained when you couldn’t pull through.. for having the expectation to have metabolism and drinking capacity as well like when I was in college.. for having a dusky complexion.. for being a chubby girl..
For being a chubby girl with a dusky complexion..
You bore all my ridicule and still pulled through.. giving me the signs.. when I needed to work or when I needed a break.. be it physical or mental, emotional or spiritual.. and you still power through as I write this..
I cannot promise that the criticisms..my own criticisms.. will stop now.. I just hope that I learn through my ways.. to appreciate you in better ways.. and know.. that you’re the outcome of what I put you through.. that, everything that seems to be in co-existence with me.. is actually not.. it does not depend on me.. but you do.. I wanna thank you... for the way I am ..I wanna thank you.. for taking care of me.. and loving me still.
You’re my long lost love.. and I wish things are different this time.. ”
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