Red, green, purple! Every
time Keerat pulled off one romper and put on the other, her eight
month old wiggled and chuckled, chubby hands grabbing at the young mother’s
arms as she fretted over the colour that best lightened her dusky baby’s skin
tone.
“She
looks dark in each of these,” Keerat wiped her brow, straining for impending
sounds of departure. Ten minutes at the most and someone would be at her door
announcing the car was loaded and ready to roll. A wave of exhaustion washed
over the new parent and she plunked down on the settee, defeated with rage.
“Who does
she take after? Have you been outdoors a lot with her? You are so fair, she
looks nothing like you! People are progressive these days; no one in their
right mind would obsess over a fair complexion. Don’t worry; the next
baby may turn out lighter. I think she takes after that aunt of hers; the one
in Australia, we hear she is very bright at academics otherwise! Are you using
“ubbttan” on her after the daily massage?”
Keerat
pulled the rattle gently out of the baby’s busy mouth. She gazed at the
diapered mite in wonder, trying to visualize her inside the womb. “Flesh of my
flesh, blood of my blood,” her eyes welled up with tears of fury. “How dared
they? They had some nerve sticking daggers into her heart! Why would they judge
so?”
Her
agitated mind pummelled ahead. This twiddling, gurgling bundle on the Dalmatian
print counterpane does not hear the slights nor see the distaste on faces yet. A
day will come when the barbs will tear into her soul, clouding her mind with
self-doubt and confusion. She will never be picked to play the lead role in a
school play. No boys will text her constricted notes. There will be the
unflattering eyes of sales persons outside trial rooms. What happens to the
colours she wants to wear but cannot because, “Blue is your shade, goes very
well with your skin?” The well-meaning will go on to console her with, “But you
have very nice features! And dark skin is healthy, all said and done, there is
more melanin there.”
Keerat
sprang up restlessly and punched her mother’s chat id, “Is this late for you
Mum?! Why are people so judgmental?”
The
luminous screen affirmed in green the typing at the other end, “That is the world
Keerat, people will slot you no matter what. If it is not your colour, it will
be the thick ankles or prematurely graying hair or an ample behind or the hair
tint you happen to be using. People assess so they can feel better.”
“But my
defenceless child Ma, my baby who doesn't have the adult’s capacity for
resigned acceptance. She needs to hear she is gorgeous!”
“Yes
Keerat, hold fast to that. This you can do, you have to get to her before the
rest do. She will believe you the most.”
“Mum, I
am going to do more. I am going to break this horrible pattern of a colour put
down. Be prepared for hurt family feelings!”
“I am
with you Keerat, this is only family, she has to face the world soon. Unless we
give her a strong core at home where we exercise control, she will crumble and
dissolve in the harshness outside.”
“Thanks
Ma, love you!”
Keerat
threw open the door and walked to the group chafing with impatience under the
portico. They turned at her determined gait, “I am sorry but I will not be
accompanying you all today!”
2 comments:
Very Emotional. One needs to break the barriers of skewed social norms. Bravo...!
Thank you Narinder Jit Kaur Ma'am. So appreciate your following and reading and engaging with the blog.
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