Tuesday, December 9, 2008

My Fair Lady

A fine morning on national highway .
I was in a ST bus on my way to college.
The bus halted at the toll counter on the way to Rasayani.
A man’s voice called out, “Natalia Hule.”
Nothing more.
Wondering who it was, I looked out of the bus window.
It was a stranger, who was smiling lecherously in my direction accompanied by his cronies.
It was the first time I saw him.
I was irked and worried.
I am no movie or TV star for strangers to call out my name on the roads.
Nor am I Osama Bin Laden for someone to have difficulties finding out details about myself.
I asked a friend at college if he had any idea about someone asking for me.
I gave him the description of that stranger.
He responded saying that it could be anyone. (I knew that)
He said that people in that area (Rasayani and neighbouring places) were crazy about fair girls.
The moment they spot one, they go to insane lengths to find out her antecedents. Never mind if the girl is ugly, it’s the pale skin that counts.
It’s a disease there.
I was shocked.
I understood why Fair & Lovely sells in this country.
We are congenital racists.


No comments:

About Me

My photo
An infectiously enthusiastic incorrigible optimist, insanely in love with and morbidly curious about life, death and everything in between.