Stay Unfair!

Beauty lies in the eyes that behold is it??

Then,Why this obsession with fairness??

I was appalled, watching an ad that endorses a fairness cream for the armpits!!!

Blatant and subtle reinforcements that only fair is lovely. The men also have joined the community that campaigns for guaranteed fairness in just a few days. Such pressure, of all the problems a woman faces in a multi-cultural society like India,watching this ads will leave a petty person with low self esteem, facing identity crisis and very few friends!

Hmm.. Racism! If the North East people are driven out from economic hubs like Bangalore, the South Indians are portrayed always dark in the thriving movie industry with a thick Hindi accent, often made fun of! May be it is enough fun. Seeing whats on the inside of a person may be too much to ask for,and sometimes may converge into opposing what they believe in.. yup,I mean casteism and communal-ism  may be not judging them for what they are outside,staying neutral, will have much to do to boost them up! If you don't agree with me, do not comment on the Islamophobic tweets against a PIO winning Miss America(FYI, I think she would not have won over the panel of judges if she were here,she is dark!). When we say unity in diversity proudly,then why try and bleach everyone,we must be ready to take all that multi-culturalism has got to offer.

Anyways, it is not necessary to be sucked up into this statistical view portraying affinity for people to marry fair people, and gaining self worth is something worth waiting for, for one and all(Where is this coming from? -A recent tryst with my cousin's wedding plans).

Just one thing, if the others do not support, it is never too late to stand up for oneself.

Stay Unfair,Stay Beautiful!! Dark is beautiful.. 

After all,chocolate is wonderful! ;)

The delicate rhythm of a boatman’s song

His eyes had a glitter of glee and celebration, the bicycle sped past the village temple, the aarthi was going on and devotees were singing the bhajans, usually he would have stopped to have put the tilak on his forehead before he went home, but today all that was echoing in his ears was the rhythm of the boatman’s song. Screeching halt infront of a magnificent household, the 6 year old carefully placed the cycle in the shed,he ran towards the house. He was excited as this was his first time alone in the village on the cycle. He rushed inside, saw his aunt sitting in the verandah, panting and all puffed up started singing the song he heard by the river, it was about the river itself and how it flows, like life.. 


“I went to the river all by myself aunty! All by myself! I am all grown up! I was playing near the mango tree, by the school, the fisherman was singing this song while getting his net ready.”

“Oh, so it is a boatman’s song huh?”


“Yes aunty, he told me all about fishing, casting the net and the baits. Then his children came from the school. We played hide and seek, they bought me an ice-gola. I promised that I ll come to play with them every day.”


“So you played with those kids? Go take bath before you enter the house. They are not good kids. You are never going to play with them again.”


“But aunty! They were very nice to me. We had a lot of fun. I promised them. Why shouldn’t I play with them?”


“They are bad kids. They go to a bad school where they teach everything wrong. You should not touch them and you are not going to play with them. Now stop asking me more questions, go take bath now!”


His eyes fell, excitement drained, he left to take bath, that night when his mom asked him to come to dinner, there was one question gnawing his nous.


“Mummy! Aunty said the boatman’s kids went to a bad school and that everything they say is wrong! But I saw mummy, their teacher, like ours, also told them that 2 plus 5 is 7. Why is it that I should not play with them?”


The only answer he got was a pat on the head and a sigh.. He did not get the answer for years, and after he knew the answer, he never felt a rush of excitement seeing the river. It saddens him that he could never play with those kids again.


But he could never stop admiring the delicate rhythm of the boatman’s song.