She wakes up in the morning, unable to turn a deaf ear to
her squeaking bed, and like each day, heads straight to the washroom, through
the bright sunshine filling up her room. Between the lathered strokes on her
quite normal teeth, she directs quick glances at the mirror. Oh! It’s all the
same, not a single change. But isn’t it obvious, I mean nobody changes over
night. Rome wasn’t built in a day..remember..?! Hey..but isn’t that exactly
what she tells herself every day? Up in the morning, and her head’s already
full..of confusion and some interesting thoughts..some left over work and her
tight schedule..some regrets and some guilt..some tension and a depleting
confidence..hatred and love..stories and poems..the sunlight and the
moon..college and friends..movies and songs and loads of dreams. Dreams that
she dreams of, both while awake and asleep, consciously and unconsciously..those
that she mentions, and those that she doesn’t.
But isn’t she just like all of us?
Her ‘voluptuous’ or rather ‘healthy’ figure stares back at her from the mirror, but she hadn't been like this all along. Hers was a figure to die for, thick jet black hair, her hallmark. A personality so grave, basking in the happiness and love of one and
all, a confidence that took her places, the enviable fair and clear skin.
Knowing the right things to say at the right occasions, healing and forgiving,
loving and being loved, unconditionally supporting. Undying love and respect
for herself. Yes! That was her!
But that's all in the past now. Now, she's massive with a day by day
receding hair line. No, she isn't ill, it's just they way she is. And how she became this, is still mystery. Maybe it was all that comfort food or maybe all the self loathing, it could also be her tearful nights. She hates mirrors, hasn’t yet gathered the courage to utter
out loud her weight and beauty issues. Not that she doesn’t see her flaws, not
that she doesn’t know that she’s lesser than what most people expect her to be.
The non-existent self confidence, filled with self loathing, the deep
inferiority complex, a depression you wouldn’t notice at first, the spark in
the smile that’s missing, the skip in her strides that’s gone. Every time she
looks in the mirror, it’s just horror that she sees. The only thing she could
comfort herself with was her fair skin, but that’s gone too, it’s dark! She is
ugly and she knows it. It didn't take rocket science to notice it, you know.
You’d argue it’s just what she thinks, it’s not true. But
trust me, she wouldn’t before. She loved herself, her being, her body, her
skin, her hair, her flaws, her mistakes. But no, not now!
Now that she’s seen
unfathomable disapproval, jokes at her stake, her being compared to every
‘beautiful’ girl that crosses anybody’s eyes, she obviously the uglier one. The same joke too often, only at different gatherings, doesn't alter her guilt. She
being herself not being enough. When every person she comes across, and mostly
the ones supposed to be her ‘own’ people, take digs at her about her weight, her body,
her skin, her hair, asking whether she feels guilty for being herself or not,
talking about gyms and exercises, talking about body types and clothes, even
before the initial formalities normally maintained. No ‘Hi! How are you?’ or
‘How’ve you been?’. It’s just, ‘Oh My God! You’re so fat!’, ‘Your hair’s so
damn thin!’, ‘You’re so dark!’, ‘You don’t compliment the guy you are with!’,
‘You spoil the ‘look’ of being a couple!’, ‘You do feel guilty, don’t you?’ As
if she didn’t know that already. As if not being able to wear her favorite dress because it didn't fit any longer, or eat her favorite desert out of guilt, didn't remind her enough times. As if she didn’t realize the stigma of being
herself. The shame? The guilt? So, she is expected to be ashamed of herself,
ashamed for who she is, why you ask? Because she’s stout..healthy, fat!
Whatever you may call it. Is a girl non-existent beyond her appearance? Does
she get no credit whatsoever for her talents that may lack in most of the so
called ‘beautiful’ or ‘better’ or ‘perfect’ people that judge her? Does she
need to boast about her achievements so that you may spare her the horror or
the invisible slap for being herself or because of her looks?
Does she need to hate herself everyday for the way she looks?
For being over-weight? For being herself? Do you think she does not know
without you pointing it out at her? Does she need to match up to your criteria
so that you will consider her to be a human being with feelings?
Is a stout person not a person? Why should she be ashamed of
herself? Would you ever be ashamed yourself? When you in front of a billion
people, say wide eyed, “Oh My God, you’ve put on so much weight! Planning to do
anything about your thinning hair?! Do not wear bright colours, they make you
look dark! No offence.” Do you honestly expect her to take no offence?! What
makes you think that you being ‘thin’ or ‘normal’ makes you a better human
being? Just because being stout is a health issue, why treat it as a social
stigma? Why make her feel like a lesser human being who should not take offence
at any remark you make about her? Would you not take offence if she called you
up to boast about her achievements and you point out your beauty issues?
Could you live with
the essence of being imperfect despite reading it in everyone’s eyes before
they open their oh so lovely faces to utter it out loud? Have you ever
considered the self image damage that you may be imposing? The self hatred or
the depression that you may cause? Ever known the feeling of being lonely and
rejected with a world filled with your ‘own’ people? People that are ashamed to
be with you and want you to be ashamed of yourself?
