As told by- The Tap
God can be quite unfair while allotting skin texture and color to the various recipients. He had not thought twice in blessing Purja with a smooth, clear and fair complexion to the great consternation of somewhat darker Gira. God couldn’t have made a greater blunder in doing so since Purja did not even appreciate this great favor. He was forever out in sun doing things not conducive to good complexions or so Gira thought. She would rub raw lemon on her face, neck and arms in hope of lightening the dark color. She wanted to be outdoors, doing exciting things along with her umbi-jumping partner but the thought of still darker results restrained her somewhat. On knowing the reason for her abstention from all the outdoor sporting activities in the afternoon, Purja’s overactive brain came up with a wacky idea.
“You know, even the dark stains can be removed by the detergent powder. You know how dirty my cloths usually are. Well! They are clean when I wear them after bath but sometimes I dirty them just to check the efficacy of the detergent and the dhobi. Maybe, your face is just stained and would be fairer after a vigorous rubbing. My mom does so to clean me sometimes and believe me, I become fairer by at least two notches.” Purja’s mom never bathed him with a detergent but these minor details were irrelevant since Gira needed instant solution, he thought.
Gira looked skeptical but was desperate to try out anything. Both the cousins trooped over to the washing area and spooned some washing detergent in a small paper bag. This paper bag along with a towel and a face-cream was taken to a washbasin out side the kitchen where the heavy utensils were washed. They stood atop a small wooden coffee table to reach the tap.
“You are sure this will work.” Gira asked. “Don’t worry. Very soon you would be deciding the extent of the fairness or you may become too fair and look like a foreigner. Then we would become terribly rich by promoting our fairness technique.” Already, Purja could see both; rich and famous, doing things they always wanted to do but could not do due to lack of funds.
There followed a most unique spa treatment seen till date. Gira rubbed the detergent powder on her face and arms, scrubbing vigorously in hope of ridding herself of the offensive dark complexion. The situation was reviewed after about half an hour of the said treatment. They could not see any difference, except certain redness.
“Maybe, we should use a loofa. Since the brown color of your skin is very old, it only needs a more vigorous scrubbing.” Purja was more in favor of using the hard cloth brush with which the maid scrubbed his dirty shirt-collars and cuffs but he did not want to antagonize Gira. She was a tad sensitive about her skin.
For a next hour, various combinations of the detergent, loofa, soap etc. were tried with repeated assessments and adjustments in the modes of washing and scrubbing without much improvement in the lightening of the brown-ness of the offending complexion. Instead the skin had a red rash like appearance. The logic- ‘the detergent removed all dirt from the cloths making them whiter and brighter’ when applied to the human skin, had surprisingly, failed to work. Then Purja remembered the missing link- the vital whitening agent called bleach.
“I think you need to dip your face and arms in the bleaching agent. That is what the dhobi does to whiten my school shirt.” Suggested Purja. He was always curious about anything involving chemicals and had routinely gleaned all the details from the dhobi. One never knew when the information came handy after all a wise man had once said-‘wisdom of the wise is, be prepared for surprises’. Now, he was glad for his foresight.
Gira brightened up visibly. Her vigorous facials were beginning to hurt. Only the thought of a much fairer appearance kept her quiet. Also the rash was making its presence felt. “This better work or I will never ever talk to you.” Gira was ready to try out anything and her misplaced trust in her cousin’s ‘chemical’ wisdom though somewhat shaky hadn’t crumbled just as yet. At this point, let’s just say, her poor harassed guardian angle couldn’t let her take further abuse hence decided to intervene.
“What are you two doing with a box of bleach? And Gira, why the redness on your face? God! The sink is full of soapsuds. What have you two been up to this time?” Inquired the maid who came to wash a pan on the sink. Both the beauty experts were nonplussed. They were caught unaware. They couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation of either their actions or the suds. The maid knew them too well to ignore the presence of bleach and the washing powder where none should have been. Meanwhile Gira’s over dry skin having decided that enough was enough, showed its displeasure by bursting out in a painful pulsating rash. She could not ignore the itchy pain any longer. She ran around cupping her hands on her cheeks, cursing Purja. Once again a heated exchange of name- calling was witnessed by all present. Gira felt that Purja should be locked in a donkey’s mental institution whereas Purja was of the opinion that Gira was an ass to try what she couldn’t handle. Anyway, to cut a long story short, she had to be taken to a dermatologist who couldn’t believe what he heard and developed a funny twitch in his left eye. Of course Gira with red swollen face was a great entertainment for Goltu and Pints thought he had acquired a brand new funny looking sibling. He circled around her enthusiastically like a small puppy claiming his territory and its contents.
“The most logically planned beauty treatment had failed and thankfully has never ever been tried since. The brown cousin turned brown after spending few painful ‘rashy’ red days. And our Purja did what he normally did: spending time in the corner, reflecting over other career options.” The tap, a witness of many such incidences winced remembering the painful episode, and thanked Gira’s guardian angle for the timely intervention.
God can be quite unfair while allotting skin texture and color to the various recipients. He had not thought twice in blessing Purja with a smooth, clear and fair complexion to the great consternation of somewhat darker Gira. God couldn’t have made a greater blunder in doing so since Purja did not even appreciate this great favor. He was forever out in sun doing things not conducive to good complexions or so Gira thought. She would rub raw lemon on her face, neck and arms in hope of lightening the dark color. She wanted to be outdoors, doing exciting things along with her umbi-jumping partner but the thought of still darker results restrained her somewhat. On knowing the reason for her abstention from all the outdoor sporting activities in the afternoon, Purja’s overactive brain came up with a wacky idea.
“You know, even the dark stains can be removed by the detergent powder. You know how dirty my cloths usually are. Well! They are clean when I wear them after bath but sometimes I dirty them just to check the efficacy of the detergent and the dhobi. Maybe, your face is just stained and would be fairer after a vigorous rubbing. My mom does so to clean me sometimes and believe me, I become fairer by at least two notches.” Purja’s mom never bathed him with a detergent but these minor details were irrelevant since Gira needed instant solution, he thought.
Gira looked skeptical but was desperate to try out anything. Both the cousins trooped over to the washing area and spooned some washing detergent in a small paper bag. This paper bag along with a towel and a face-cream was taken to a washbasin out side the kitchen where the heavy utensils were washed. They stood atop a small wooden coffee table to reach the tap.
“You are sure this will work.” Gira asked. “Don’t worry. Very soon you would be deciding the extent of the fairness or you may become too fair and look like a foreigner. Then we would become terribly rich by promoting our fairness technique.” Already, Purja could see both; rich and famous, doing things they always wanted to do but could not do due to lack of funds.
There followed a most unique spa treatment seen till date. Gira rubbed the detergent powder on her face and arms, scrubbing vigorously in hope of ridding herself of the offensive dark complexion. The situation was reviewed after about half an hour of the said treatment. They could not see any difference, except certain redness.
“Maybe, we should use a loofa. Since the brown color of your skin is very old, it only needs a more vigorous scrubbing.” Purja was more in favor of using the hard cloth brush with which the maid scrubbed his dirty shirt-collars and cuffs but he did not want to antagonize Gira. She was a tad sensitive about her skin.
For a next hour, various combinations of the detergent, loofa, soap etc. were tried with repeated assessments and adjustments in the modes of washing and scrubbing without much improvement in the lightening of the brown-ness of the offending complexion. Instead the skin had a red rash like appearance. The logic- ‘the detergent removed all dirt from the cloths making them whiter and brighter’ when applied to the human skin, had surprisingly, failed to work. Then Purja remembered the missing link- the vital whitening agent called bleach.
“I think you need to dip your face and arms in the bleaching agent. That is what the dhobi does to whiten my school shirt.” Suggested Purja. He was always curious about anything involving chemicals and had routinely gleaned all the details from the dhobi. One never knew when the information came handy after all a wise man had once said-‘wisdom of the wise is, be prepared for surprises’. Now, he was glad for his foresight.
Gira brightened up visibly. Her vigorous facials were beginning to hurt. Only the thought of a much fairer appearance kept her quiet. Also the rash was making its presence felt. “This better work or I will never ever talk to you.” Gira was ready to try out anything and her misplaced trust in her cousin’s ‘chemical’ wisdom though somewhat shaky hadn’t crumbled just as yet. At this point, let’s just say, her poor harassed guardian angle couldn’t let her take further abuse hence decided to intervene.
“What are you two doing with a box of bleach? And Gira, why the redness on your face? God! The sink is full of soapsuds. What have you two been up to this time?” Inquired the maid who came to wash a pan on the sink. Both the beauty experts were nonplussed. They were caught unaware. They couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation of either their actions or the suds. The maid knew them too well to ignore the presence of bleach and the washing powder where none should have been. Meanwhile Gira’s over dry skin having decided that enough was enough, showed its displeasure by bursting out in a painful pulsating rash. She could not ignore the itchy pain any longer. She ran around cupping her hands on her cheeks, cursing Purja. Once again a heated exchange of name- calling was witnessed by all present. Gira felt that Purja should be locked in a donkey’s mental institution whereas Purja was of the opinion that Gira was an ass to try what she couldn’t handle. Anyway, to cut a long story short, she had to be taken to a dermatologist who couldn’t believe what he heard and developed a funny twitch in his left eye. Of course Gira with red swollen face was a great entertainment for Goltu and Pints thought he had acquired a brand new funny looking sibling. He circled around her enthusiastically like a small puppy claiming his territory and its contents.
“The most logically planned beauty treatment had failed and thankfully has never ever been tried since. The brown cousin turned brown after spending few painful ‘rashy’ red days. And our Purja did what he normally did: spending time in the corner, reflecting over other career options.” The tap, a witness of many such incidences winced remembering the painful episode, and thanked Gira’s guardian angle for the timely intervention.
I often say to my British friends and colleagues- If judging people by the colour of the skin is racism, we Indians are the most racist of all...and youngsters face it when they are very young, even today.
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