BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL
People tell me that I was born
very fair. I don’t know what happened in between. My “twacha” got tanned too
much while I played cricket all day and went on many fishing trips with Dad. We
didn’t have anti-tan lotions or UV blocks with SPF varying with glare of the
sun. We had pure “Sarson ka tel”.
In winters our skin used to go
white, I would rather say flaky in some ways. The only way to cover it was to
have well oiled legs. To save time, distance from the end of the shorts and
start of the socks used to be oiled. The elbows and knees always remained problematic.
No one bothered in the playfield as there was no one watching your legs.
During our School Annual day celebrations
we used to have this sound and light show. Boys used to line up in our house
for makeup. Mom used to give them a lotion called Lacto Calamine which students
used to rub on their faces for fairness followed by foundation. Then she used
to dab them with face powder. All “Kalus” like me used to start looking white.
We used to have Macbeth and Mutiny scenes, so the British Saab had to look like
a Gora Saab. I could never get that role as how hard she tried all those
powders and creams never stuck to my face.
I used to be thrilled because I used
to get those round compact powder cases after they had been used. They used to
have mirrors inside and I used to make periscopes and kaleidoscopes using mom’s
broken bangles.
I remember as we went to senior
school a “VICCO Turmeric Cream” came
into existence. Before that I used to quietly use mom’s “Afgan Snow” face cream and a powder called “Cuticura”. The snow from Afgan never changed my complexion and the
cute in the cuticura never “cutified” me. I used to love that ayurvedic cream because
of the sandal wood smell; the only thing I disliked was that cream was yellow
in colour. The more I used to rub it, my complexion used to turn purple. I used
it for a few years then got back to mustard oil. Coconut oil was a rare treat
for Kale
ghane aur sunder baal.
Mom used to knead a special kind
of slushy atta, yellowish in colour and rub it all over us. Was it Besan
or Makki, I couldn’t make the difference? She then left us to dry till
it used to start peeling off. Then we
used to get a hot water bath especially before Christmas. What a waste of
besan, I could have had so many pakoras instead.
My skin colour helped me a lot in
NDA. I got lots of lift from all those people who came from below the tropic of
Cancer. Now when people ask me, where are you from? If I am meeting that person
for the first time, I give him five guesses. Actually my name and colour is
deceptive. People start from Kerala and come up to Goa. Then my moustache adds
to the confusion. Finally, when I reveal it to them, they say Oh! They could
have never guessed.
Be that as it may, while we were
deployed in the valley, once the CSD canteen NCO came up with a long bill. I
said I never used all these fairness creams in all my life. He said sir your
buddy came and took all this on credit. I got cheesed off. I asked him what the
buddy said. He said Kale Saab had asked for them, so I wrote your name. I initially
blew my lid but then understood that “Kanchas” are very sweet people. It happened
so that my Ex buddy was now with one Maj Kale who had just got posted in. The
CSD NCO was not aware and kept writing things in my name as he thought the most
kale wale saab in the unit was me. It was later that I met Maj Kale who was
seventeen shades darker than me. What a laugh we had! He can’t refute it as his
name is kale and he can’t feel bad as he is tall, dark and most handsome as per
many girls.
As a kid I used to feel bad if
someone called me Kalu. I tried changing
my complexion by rubbing anything and everything available on mom’s dressing
table but in vain. Then I heard this song called “hum kale hain to kya hua dilwale
hain”. Colour of the skin doesn’t matter actually; it is the warmth in
your heart which matters. When will we leave our obsession of the fair skin? I
wonder!!!!!!!!
JAI HIND
© Noel Ellis
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