The beaming
astrologer had recommended green this time. Her mother, whom she lovingly
called Ma, asked her to drape a green saree with a heavily embellished pallu.
Its embroidery was more detailed than the last one. Ma could read through her
glassy eyes, she always could, the pain, the humiliation of feeling like a
rejected piece of clothing waiting to get lucky. She lifted up her chin and
gave her a reassuring smile as though there was no evil left in this world for
good to accomplish. She faked her faith in her smile.
Her heart was not
pumping any more blood than it was supposed to today. The flutter refused to
return and even after making every possible effort, she couldn't bring back the
excitement she once felt. Her expectations had died a silent death several
years ago. She was doing this for her parents, after all they had loved her,
unconditionally. It was almost like a debt that was crushing her shoulders.
Didi put on some
green eye-liner over her eyes that matched the color of the saree beyond belief,
it was flawless. A nail was tied to one end of the saree in an attempt to
ensure prophetic significance. The lipstick was being applied with a lip brush
this time as if this was the curse that went wrong all these years.
Nonetheless, she very well knew this show had to be perfect and she was
everybody's favorite puppet, she had to live up to their expectations unlike
all the past failures. Mistakes weren't affordable anymore. Time was running
swiftly and she had to catch up.
The delicacies were
served in silver traditional thaalis, only if their beauty could overpower the
truth. The sweets were prepared in pure desi ghee and their smell left no room
for any other discussion. She entered with a tray and served her special
cardamom tea to her audience. The saucers were left untouched. She saw their
grin turn into a meek hint of a smile from the corner of her over-burdened eye,
she could hardly lift it up. She wore a constant expression throughout the
evening and spoke only when she was spoken to, the instructions were clear. The
man who was supposed to decide whether she was beautiful enough to deserve the
honor of marrying him kept nudging his mother with his elbow at regular
intervals. He looked bored but his mother's stern expression kept him glued to
the sofa.
An hour later, when
everything from corruption to cocktail had got the privilege of becoming the
center of discussion, the guests rose from their seats and began to leave. Her
father joined his hands gesturing his debt to them for taking the trouble to
grace them with their presence. He accompanied them to the entrance. She stood
from her chair and waited in anticipation. A few minutes later, her father
walked back in. Without uttering a word he left for his evening walk. She read
the disappointment sprawled across his wrinkles.
It had happened. And
it had happened again.
She was rejected by
another family.
Not because she was
illiterate,
Not because she
didn't deserve it,
But because of the
color that her skin reflected.
You might want to
deny it but modern India is living on a land where beauty is a bubble waiting
to be pricked by every other trespasser. Everybody holds an opinion but none so
true. how distorted our idea of beauty has become. This is not a preachy post
asking you to reflect upon your concept of whos beautiful and whos not, its a
silhouette, of a path that has led us to where we are and is constantly
prompting us to overlook our conscience. The market these days is flooded with
fairness products that promise to make you more appealing to your partner. To
be blunt, would you really want to be with a partner whose love is this shallow
?
Although the story
depicted in this post talks about one particular stigma, the palette is filled
with a riot of such stories.
It might take us a
while to accept, but we're all a little fragile. A small dose of criticism can
manage to do unimaginable harm to our self-esteem, and building a shield around
us so that it wouldn't reach us is as hard as finding a needle in a haystack.
Being considerate doesn't take much, the only requirement is purity of heart,
and if you have that, you'll look at the world with a different, more subtle
pair of eyes, ones that would cherish the goodness around them. I trust JK
Rowling when she says,
'It is important to
remember that we all have magic inside us'.
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