A Slice of Life!

When I asked Liana to move all her toys from the living room to her bedroom:

When Liana wanted to know why she couldn't give Ryan a time out:

When Liana wanted to go hands-free:

When we arranged a Playdate for the kids, cos its so very important for their development:

Expectation vs Experience

Like how nothing prepares us for that face of ours in our Voter's Id, or a joke that falls flat - the experience is always different from our expectations. Here's a few of mine.


1. Boating at Ooty:

      We were honeymooning at Ooty and DH, the new groom, hired a 8 seater boat for just the two of us. "Privacy," he said. There was a long queue and as we get into our boat a little boy demanded, 'It's just the two of you, take us along.'' His grandmother loudly chided him. ''Hush, they are on honeymoon, they'll want their privacy.'' Everyone congratulated us and asked where we were from, when we had got married, advised us on how many kids we should have, and when. When they were arguing among themselves if it's better for a woman to work or be a stay-at-home mother, the boat started to move. But a very private ride it was, with passers-by in boats smiling and waving at us throughout the ride. Could that be 'Karma'?

2. Hello!

      Two weeks after our wedding, we moved to Dubai. Chruch service here is on Fridays, and on the day before, I took out my new pattu sari, my gold ornaments, and all my accessories. I was going to the Tamil church for the first time after marriage, in a new country. As we got ready for bed, Andrew asked if I had my introduction ready. "Huh?" I asked. "Oh, no!" He said. "I totally forgot. You need to step up to the front, and introduce yourself on your first day. In Tamil, like the pastors speak." I couldn't sleep all night, mentally preparing a speech. I was sitting on pins all through the service the next day, and then the pastor said, "Anyone new for the service today, please stand up." I did, wondering how I'd get past all the people in the pew, and looked desperately at my moral support for help.

"We welcome you, and hope you will actively participate in all Church activities."

"After service, there will be the Youth meeting..." continued the Pastor, while everyone looked amused at my still standing form. "Please be seated," he said turning to me. It was then that I saw Andrew silently shaking with laughter, laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. Or maybe they were real tears, I had on my 3 inch pointed heels.

3. Sibling love:

The kids have two train shaped Ride-on toys which they fight over for. The other day, Ryan was playing rough with one of them, galloping on it, like on a horse, when Liana said, "No, Ryan. The floor will break and you will fall in." I was thinking, 'Trust her to look after her little brother,' when she added, "There will be only one train after that, and that will be mine."

Hope you all have a wonderful day, reliving your expectation vs experience moments!

Slim, Taller, Fairest

"I want my photograph taken," I said. "A Portrait."

"I'll have it ready by tomorrow," said the photographer.

"It's been edited?" I asked quietly, looking at my portrait the next day.

"This is how you'd be in fair skin. Very beautiful! " he said, obviously proud of his obvious editing skills.

"I'll take the original. When should I come back for it?"

"But madam, why do you want the original when this is such a beautiful photo of you? Photography can give you what nature cannot. That's our technology. Make use of that"

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Let's pause this story here to read your minds:

"How dare he?"

"Aren't dark skinned people beautiful?"

"Beauty is only skin deep!"

And the like? Let me tell you there is more to it.

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Let's go back to some of my earliest memories...

We would go out together - my father, my mother, my elder brother and I. Almost everyone we meet for the first time, would say in the flow of conversation, "Oh, she took after her dad, didn't she?".

Some background information would be helpful here - My dad is quite dark, my mother is quite fair, my brother leans towards my mother's color and I lean more towards my dad's.

And, now back to our story...

I would be playing with my cousins. Being the only dark one in a family of fair cousins, opened up volumes for conversation. After a possible conversation lull, I would hear subject matter experts tell my mom,

"She's so dark. Have you done anything about it?"

"Try turmeric. It's cooling too. My sister's daughter was so dark, just like her. My sister bathed her in turmeric everyday. Now she is wheatish."

"You haven't made an effort with her. Fruit masks are good. Mash oranges, banana and honey. Apply all over her. Let it dry. After 30 minutes wash it off. She will become less dark, I guarantee you that."

"When you are so fair, it's a shame the boy takes after you and the girl had to take after her father."

"Don't dress her in this color. It makes her look even darker."

"Do something now itself. Try multani mitti, with curd and sandal. Even for fair girls the grooms family ask for a hefty dowry (Dowry being applicable for both arranged and love marriages).

And all this happening in Nagercoil - a town of educated people, in the presence and ear shot of a little girl of 5.

My poor mother would feel guilty for not trying to turn her little ducky into a fair swan. She would then try to work miracles with some wonder paste which I would refuse to apply, and run away from.


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The place of education encouraged this. And the time it was most obvious was during the Annual Day preparation, every year.

Teachers vied with each other to have the fair ones in their dances and programs.  The dark ones to get a role were the teachers own children, teacher's pets (The brainies, and children from socially affluent families). The truly talented but dark skinned girls got a role, possibly as the boy in the dance (the female roles are awarded only for the truly fair, mind you) The other ordinary dark ones, stepped on stage during prize distribution - if they had won a prize.

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I bloomed late, but bloom I did. I became slim and tall, but not fair. They thought they were complimenting me by calling me "Black Beauty".

Fortunately, in spite of all this, I didn't develop a lasting lack of confidence. I must have been thick headed. It's hard otherwise, to escape that bitterness for being born dark. I have never been able to relate to those who told me confidentially how bad we feel to be dark skinned. For, I didn't remember the color of my skin unless when alluded to. It isn't the color of people's skin I noticed when I met someone for the first time.

But at times it did wake in me a sense of guilt for being born dark. Like when a prospective groom's mother asked my mom, if the girl was Wheatish or dark. And then say, "I am sorry. We like your daughter very much. But my son wants a very fair bride." And instead of looking daggers at me for running away from all her fairness treatments, my mother would say that he wasn't the one God intended.

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We are all familiar with:

"My son's marriage is fixed. The girl is slim, tall and fair."

"She is dark, but she is beautiful. He was okay with it, so that's all that mattered."

"She looks like a foreigner. There will be long queue when you start looking for a groom"

How often do we hear this? It's mixed with our blood, this worshipping of the fair skinned.

When my future mother-in-law asked my fair skinned, future husband if he wanted a fair girl, he had said, that skin color didn't matter " And thus I bagged my groom. "No dowry" mindset of the groom was a big plus. There are others like that... And our world continues to go around.

The talk of my skin color stopped the day I got married.

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Only to start again the day my first child was born.

"How is the baby? Like daddy or mommy?"

Well, that's what you get for delivering a child in Nagercoil. But, wait! It seems to be an Indian thing!.

When my daughter was 2, my little 5 year old, fair skinned non-Tamil, Indian neighbor asked me.

"Aunty, why are you all brown, and we are all so fair?"

I didn't have an answer to that. So I said, "What's that? Your mom's calling you."

And she ran back home. Thank God, my daughter was too young to understand!


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My son was born in Dubai. We took him to India when he was 3 months old.

"He is fair," they beamed, as if complimenting me for finally getting it right.

I realized there is no escaping this topic - both the fair and the dark skinned people are equally competent here.

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Another year later, Liana started school. She came home looking very sad one day, and said, "Amma, Mia (name changed, of course) said I am yucky because I am brown."

My heart skipped a beat. That to come out of a 3 year old to another. I tried telling her that the color of the skin didn't matter. That God knew best when he made her that way. That both dark and white chocolate are equally loved.

But the damage was done. Things got worse when she said she didn't like her father because he was fair, and that she likes Tessy (Name changed again) even if she was Brown.

I spoke to her teacher who told the class the story of the multicolor elephant and someother things as well. I hope the children understood about the things in life that count.


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Maybe it's infused into the Indian blood, this love for the fair skin. One can look and act a perfect ogre, and be branded as a beauty just for being blessed with fair skin.

I am not saying that boys should not make that condition. Marriage for many, is a once in a lifetime commitment. And who he wants to marry is his choice. Just like a girl has her say in the matter. 

What I am against is, a whole society, predicting the future of a girl based only on her skin color.

I am against linking fair skin with intelligence, success and goodness.

I am against looking upon dark skin as a flaw, as something lesser which needs to be fixed.

Let us accept children in all their innocence, and women with all their flaws. She doesn't need to be helped up, if she isn't thrown into the water in the first place.  It is her life. Let her be. He knew what He was doing.

How do we fix bigger issues of Gender equality when the girl child is rated on the color of her skin from her earliest moments. When will we realize that irrespective of skin color she will be the apple of her parents eye, the love of her husband, and appear perfect in the eyes of her children?

Tick Tock, goes the clock

      When Liana doesn't eat I pretend to close my eyes and with food in my hand cry out, "Come birdie, eat. Liana doesn't want it!"Liana on tiptoe comes and eats it. There is a happy, impish expression on her face as she tells me with unbridled  excitement that she and not birdie ate it. Such adorableness...but I know the clock is ticking.


      Ryan hurt his thumb and came to me for healing kisses. Today Liana came too, but went away saying it still hurt. Not too long ago, it used to work for her as well. And not much longer before Ryan realizes that magic kisses aren't for real. The clock is ticking.

[Ryan taking a power nap]

[Liana trying on a new hat]

      When I get the kids dressed to go out, Ryan gets his favorite pair of shoes and insists on being helped. Now a days Liana chooses her stuff and ends up wearing clownish outfits and too many accessories. Ryan won't always need my help, and Liana will develop her sense of fashion soon. The clock is ticking.


      Every hour, everyday, I race with time. And Time always comes up triumphant. I always end up losing with every tick of the clock.

      Meanwhile, there is a prayer I say everyday. Thank God for they are mine. Thank you, God, for choosing me to be their mother. I cherish every minute with them and I love them with my life. Amen.