Sunday, December 22
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When others’ opinions became mine

Oh, dear! How below average tall, pale, skinny and ignorant that guy was! Readers, do you find him attractive? Hell no, right? When did I start falling for such a sort of guy? He’s not even a man.

 Oh, I remember, it started back then in high school when girls taught me beauty standards and checklists. In their eyes, pale fair, tall, especially skinny guys were the talk of the town. And I had no idea. I didn’t know that an ideal Indian girl had to be tall, lean, fair, or that she had to have green or blue big eyes with long lashes, pink lips, small nose, small waist, small feet, more than average-sized boobs and that sweet voice with long black hair. And you would be tortured if you lacked any of these, especially by your mother. 

I loved myself. I did. I liked my voice, my health, my nose, my short tomboyish hair. Until their lewd opinions got the best of my thoughts. I started losing my self-esteem when people called me fatso, nakti, butki(stunt). I cursed myself for not having soft, black, silky, long hair like her. Did I like them? I didn’t f***ing care! 

I loved cooking, eating and feeding. However, now my mother chants mantras of all my so-called shortcomings. Such a devotee, that she won’t take a breath of relief. With every bite I take, I get that who-the-hell-will-marry-you look. Those piercing eyes as if they’re gonna throw daggers on me and hit me till my fat drops off. That volcano-hot anger as if her skin will melt off and burn my carbs.  

And furthermore, they’re always comparing. They’re always comparing Ritika and me, me and Vaishnavi, even me and my brother(He’s not even a girl!). I might have it slight, but some super conservative orthodox families make even breathing of such so-called flawed girls a sin. Not just their family, but these girls’ neighbours, and even peers look down upon them. Some children are put forcibly on diet plans. They’re always told, “why don’t you us this sunscreen?”, “Always cover you face with a scarf!”, “Drink only buttermilk for a month!”, “Avoid carbs, don’t eat rice!”, “This new iPhone is the best.”, “What! You’ve never been to Starbucks? God you’re so cheap!” And what not? 

The people themselves put serious impositions on themselves. Green tea, oats, salads, Starbucks, magnum, fancy hotel food. 

I never had any favourites. I never liked Virushka or any celebrity power couple. I didn’t even have a favourite colour. I simply had messy hair, no makeup, dirty shoes, boyish watch and a fat-ass. But people made me believe otherwise. What? Now you go blame it on the people? But I failed. I failed to look in and ask the inner me what she wanted, how she felt, whether the jeans fit her tight, or whether the heels hurt her. I ignored my bestest friend, the source of my true happiness. 

People need to know that it’s  okay to stand out. It’s okay to not have an iPhone. It’s okay if you’ve never gone to Starbucks, fancy hotels, foreign land and airplanes. It’s okay to not be a size 4. It’s okay if you don’t enjoy gossip, you don’t have to pretend to fit in. In fact you don’t have to fit in at all. It’s alright if you don’t like Taylor Swift’s music and instead prefer Green Day or the Criminals, or even the not-so-popular Lata Mangeshkar or even R D Burman songs. 

You matter. Your own choices and likes are significant. It’s alright to not paint your nails or to put on makeup. Don’t pretend. Don’t lose yourself in this chaos or opinions and gossip. Stay golden. Don’t kill the healthy you. Hug the old fashioned you. Kiss the coloured you. Shower some love on the introverted you. Be you proudly. 

Let’s be authentic for a while. As ourselves, do I really want a 28 or am I okay with a 34 inch waist? Do I really need to look fair? Even these companies have realised their mistake and revived their Mottos and names. ‘Fair and lovely’ has now been changed to ‘glow and lovely’. That’s a relief. Now when will you change the habit of hammering yourself? When will you stop trying to fit in? 

I eagerly wait for the day when a mother is proud of her dark skinned daughter’s colour. I eagerly wait for the day when people are not affected by body-shaming  comments. I eagerly wait.