Want to be someone else? Think again!

I have always longed to be that perfect someone else... That long-legged elegant woman with the hour-glass figure I saw at the airport... Or that curly-haired girl with the enviable complexion who crossed the road while I was waiting at the signal... I would even have exchanged lives with that yesteryear’s model who has a killer fashion sense... I always had this image while growing up that these were the markings of a perfect life, one that would be satisfactory no matter what. But some random happenings in the past few months have made me realise that my life is perfect as it is... I am perfect as I am... (Well, apart from the laziness, which I haven’t managed to find a cure for yet)

This tendency reminds me of an advertisement in which a chain of people aspire for what others had. It starts with a young guy staring with awe when a rich bald guy passes by in an impressive car; the rich guy buys his wife a diamond necklace, which a wife passing by the display looks at envyingly; this cycle of envy goes on, involving different people, and ultimately ends with the rich guy admiring the young guy’s curly crop of hair. You can check out the ad here.

Just goes to show how people want what others have. But you cannot have just that one trait that you admire, can you? You need to imagine living THAT life. What if the tall woman at the airport was a harried professional facing office politics? What if the girl with the perfect complexion had family problems? And did a keen sense of fashion help the model deal with an abusive boyfriend?

I think most of us, including me, tend to look at the superficial picture, admiring one trait and wishing we could have that and live that person’s life. But we do not go deeper, we do not get that our life is so much better when you take the whole picture into consideration. God may have been stingy when She determined how tall I would be, but She certainly endowed me with a family that makes me feel on top of the world. I may not have the skin tone to die for, but I am a confident, outgoing personality who can chatter away for hours on any given topic... (Except engineering, medicine, biology and the likes... ugh!) And even though I prefer comfort over trend and choose the same old drab colours and styles, my hubby loves and appreciates me, making me feel awesome whatever I am wearing... (Ask me why, and I would be stumped too!)

What I mean to highlight throughout the long ramble above is: nothing is perfect... When you compare your life with someone else, consider the ugly side of the story too. While the youngster envies the businessman with the awesome car, the former would give up his car in an instant if he would be able to run a hand through his curly hair instead of looking at his bald reflection everyday. There will always be something you don’t have, some trait you aspire for, some event you are awaiting in life. However, rather than wishing you were in a different life, admire your own life for what you have NOW. Because you know what? Someone, somewhere is wishing they could be in your situation, have what you have, and BE YOU! Realise this, and you will be able to make peace with what you have. I am about to, and I am sure I am going to be happy and content in every aspect of life from now on.

Of beauty, and the beast that lies within

“Love thy neighbour as you would love yourself” is how the saying goes. But apparently, we love our neighbours more than we love ourselves. A new campaign by Dove has made it quite apparent that women in general view themselves more critically than others. Asked to describe their facial features to a sketch artist who had not seen them, each highlighted the flaws in their features predominantly (and I am guessing, subconsciously). When others described the women, they gave positive details about the same features the women themselves disliked. The resultant two sketches, although of the same woman, were radically different, with the one developed with the help of other people’s description turning out prettier and more beautiful.

I have always had this perception of beauty, so to say. I would try to define which features others would find pretty or which kind of looks would be described as beautiful by most. Time and again, I have irritated my husband until he snapped back at me that I am wrong, there is no concept like a universally beautiful person... Everyone is beautiful in their own way... And I would be like “Yeah, right!” I have had this thing with beauty... Figuring that coloured eyes, fair skin, awesome figure and a smile that would kill makes a girl beautiful. I mean Aishwarya Rai would turn heads if she walked down the road, wouldn’t she? However, I have often had trouble getting people to agree with me. Some of them have the audacity to say Mrs Rai Bachchan is not that pretty (including, I suspect, that hubby of mine!)

But that campaign from Dove touched a cord in my heart, which I think has happened with women all over the world, from the looks of how viral it has gone. It has shown me that people notice and remember the good over the bad. They will probably not remember that your eyebrows were skewed, but will notice that the colour of your eyes was light brown, and your eyes lit up the moment you talked about your passion.

I remember sometimes pestering my hubby over how dark I was, secretly wishing for his reassurance that I was okay. Every few weeks, I keep asking him to explain why, out of a million others, he selected me to spend his life, exasperating him. But I guess it comes from a deep rooted perception of beauty I have had. Rating myself on the features I described above brought my score to zero most of the times.

However, this campaign has made me realise that I am beautiful in my own way, and that the perception I had was horribly wrong and distorted. I should probably see myself as my husband sees me; as my mother describes me to others; as my father remembers me always; as my child will see me in the coming future.

Maybe now I can accept compliments with grace rather than brush them away as exaggerations like I always do. Maybe I can believe my better half when he says that I am looking awesomely pretty (invariably when I am having a good hair day, but shhhhhh!) And most importantly, maybe I will be able to focus on the better aspects of my features than the ones I dislike.

Here’s a toast to all the beautiful women out there, each and every one of them. May you discover your beauty and slay the beast within that prevents you from doing so. And may you find people that remind you that you are beautiful every day of your life J

PS – Click here for the video if you haven’t seen it yet.

Of innocence and the loss of it…

I read this somewhere recently: “People are terrible things. Put enough of them together and havoc will be wreaked” Until recently, I would have vehemently defended the fact that there are good people, good always wins over bad, people get what they deserve et al. I have spent a considerable time arguing with my better half, who insists that most people on this earth are morons, who will screw you over every time they get a chance, and that you are supposed to protect yourself from the dark underbelly of humanity that they form. I had this belief that people usually pay for what actions they take on this earth; they cannot leave without receiving the suitable punishment for evil they have perpetrated during their lifetime. I used to imagine different scenarios for all the rascals out there: getting disabled in accidents, suffering a long bed-ridden life before eventually dying with no one at their side, etc. etc…

However, recent phenomena have changed my belief. I know a lot has been written about the horrific Delhi rape and murder case, so wont be going into too much detail. My purpose is not to provide graphic details to an incident, which I cannot even imagine happening with anyone remotely connected to me. My purpose is to decry the happenings of today, and mourn what some of our species are capable of.

Hearing the details of what happened to that girl in 40 minutes—I keep imagining what I was doing in that time… probably some mundane activity like having dinner, watching TV or just messing around with my sister—is more than horrifying… If just hearing the gruesome details makes our stomachs turn, what would the poor girl have gone through? And more importantly, if the people who perpetrated the crime were lower middle class people, similar to people who work in our homes, guard them, drive us around and do chores, who is to differentiate the monsters from the good people?

That is not to say that such people come from a particular class. In the weeks after the rape and eventual death of the extraordinarily courageous girl, the newspapers were full of similar cases all around the country. Maybe such incidents were going on since quite some time; however, the national outcry that resulted post this particularly vicious act encouraged the media to highlight the going ons all around the country. The only difference was, the rapists in these cases were like you and me, people from educated backgrounds, rich kids in their teens or early twenties who thought nothing of raping their object of affection and strangling/putting them on fire/deploying any other horrific way of killing. The media’s tendency to highlight such incidents was so predictable that I thought twice before picking up the morning paper in fear of what new detail I would come across.

The incident has destroyed something for me, maybe for all of us. With many children today asking what ‘rape’ means, our coming generation may be losing the innocence that is so precious in defining their childhood. With mothers warning their toddlers not to go with any unknown ‘uncle’ and fathers holding on to their precious ones more tightly, I do not see the child’s innocence returning too soon. I have also lost faith in my belief that people pay for their acts in their current lives. The girl who died did not deserve to die like that. And the ones who did that to her cannot have a cruel enough death to pay for what they did.

Hopefully, there is a God up there who is watching… Observing what Her creations are turning out to be… And frantically thinking of what to do to stop these atrocities. Because if She isn’t, well… I can’t even say “God help us all!”

To my precious dadi...

In a game of cards, she used to surreptously ask me which card I required, and promptly give it away so I could at least salvage the game, if not win it; it didn’t matter to her if she lost the game due to that one card. If I knew that was the last time I would play with her, I would have kissed her then and there for being so generous.

She would always cook the same vegetable for me (tindola or ivy gourd), not because her expertise lay in that, but because I insisted on it… if I knew that it was the last time I was having it, I would have memorised the taste and learnt how to imitate it in the closest possible way… I don’t think I would have achieved the same taste, cause only she could cook it that way.

She awaited my wedding for years… If I would have known that I would see her standing and talking to people for the last time at my wedding, I would have hugged her tight and spent hours talking to her, telling her how much I loved and appreciated her…

She looked forward to festivities eagerly, as it was the only time all her family came under one roof at her place… If I would have known last year was the last Diwali I would celebrate with her in her conscious state, I would have savoured my time with her.

She called every Sunday unfailingly. If I would have know it was the last time I would be able to hear my name in her voice when she last called, I would have chatted with her for hours.

But as we know, God just doesn’t give us such chances. So now, all I can do is remember the taste, smell, voice and picture of my dadi laughing, talking, being happy cooking for us, and hope that I had conveyed to her how much I love her.