At the shop I usually frequent (reluctantly I must add….I hate shopping for groceries and such organic matter), I happened to catch an interesting scene. There were two girls,aged around 16 in deep discussion on various 'Fairness Creams'.
Having been blessed with, in what is known in matrimony-speak, a wheatish (brownish) complexion, I can confidently say, I have not had the pleasure to be part of such a discussion.
I admit, I did consider it once, till I discovered the phrase (Tall, Dark and Handsome'. I figured if I can get two out of the three right, I stood a reasonable chance.
Therefore I gave up on the 'Fairness' part very easily (I am particularly proud of my eagerness to give up easily), and decided to concentrate on increasing my height. Plus height helps in longer strides and I am particular that I am able to run fast from any kind of fight or other such displays of maleness.
During my formative years (and what a form that has generated), I frequently, planned to hang weights from my ankles while I was sleeping. I loved the planning (in intricate details as I tend to daydream a lot) and spent quite a few hours in working out the sourcing of the materials for this endeavor.
The two main parts were the weight and something to hang it with (I couldn't use a rope as that would have become painful after some time). I finally settled (in my mind) on 'Ammi Kohzul'. I do not know what it is called in English, but it is basically a granite roller that is used in grinding chutney's etc. I knew getting this from my Mom's kitchen in the night would not be easy. She was a suspicious woman, especially when it came to anything connected with me.
To this day, I have not found a good reason for a teenage boy to take an 'Ammi Kozhul' to his bedroom in the night. If any of you can think of some palatable excuse, please let me know (only for academic reasons of course, as I now have my own roller and do not need to resort to excuses).
Second thing, that I needed was a piece of long soft cloth. I couldn't figure this one out satisfactorily, too. What I needed was a 'Dupatta', the long piece of cloth that comes with churidhars ( it is an old Ninja headgear and they used it to camouflage their face. It has been copied religiously by the girls in Bangalore. You see many of them on the roads and I presume they are on their way to commit their next crime).
Unfortunately, my mother only wore saris and asking her to lend an old sari was out of question. She was already on the borderline in matters concerning my proclivities and this would have pushed her over the edge.
So to cut a long story short, I did not achieve the required height that, I of course felt, I deserved.
That left only the 'Handsomeness'. During certain times of the year when the light was just right, and it fell softly and glowingly on my face, some people have admitted, I look passable. From my own experience, I can confidently say that children do not scream and run away when they see me (instead they burst into giggles).
Therefore, if you are in your formative years, and if you are bothered about the form that you eventually turn into, I suggest you do not pursue 'Tallness' and 'Handsomeness'. Instead, concentrate on 'Fairness'. At least it is easy to purchase a cream and dabble it everyday on your face.
The 'beauty' industry needs your money. Think of it as a social cause.