I love my culture.
I do not love the aspect of my culture that tells me I am somehow lesser because I have dark skin.
I do not love the aspect of my culture that makes it so that the darkest shade of makeup sold by most Indian brands does not even come close to matching the vast majority of Indian, especially South Indian and/or non-upper-caste women.
I do not love the aspect of my culture that allows a wonderful, sweet, charming, absolutely gorgeous young woman to be driven to the brink of suicide because of the constant taunting and put-downs people inflict on her because her skin is closer to Naomi Campbell's than Kate Moss.
I do not love the aspect of my culture that makes it so that the darkest tone that appears in magazines and billboards is something called 'wheatish' or 'dusky', which is code for 'dark enough to project a veneer of diversity, but not dark enough to actually suggest that anything but white skin should be aspired to.'
I do not love the aspect of my culture which has meant that I see far more White faces on advertisements, billboards, posters, hoardings, window displays, even if they're advertising Indian products for use by Indian people.
I do not love the aspect of my culture that makes it acceptable for matrimonial ads to ask for 'fair' brides and grooms, as if the colour of a person's skin has anything to do with the content of their character.
I do not love the aspect of my culture that insists that
Bipasha Basu and
Sheetal Mallar need to be lit up and Photoshopped into pale imitations of themselves.
I do not love the aspect of my culture that has internalised the racism and colonialism of the British Raj to the extent that is perfectly acceptable to run ads for fairness products that say 'Dark out, White in,' ads that would rightfully be banned in Britain today.
And I most especially do not love the aspect of my culture that has made it acceptable for an ad to be run on the first page of The Hindu, India's newspaper of record, offering a sachet of Ponds White Beauty free with two bars of Dove soap, with the tagline, 'We're sending some more compliments your way.'
Fuck you.
Actually, more than that, how dare you. How dare you presume that a compliment is likelier the paler a woman's skin. How dare you, in a land where the Gods themselves have verses written on the magnificence of their dark skins, try and push this warped, racist, colonial hangover of a beauty standard on us? How dare you imply that a woman's worth, a person's worth, hinges on the amount of melanin their body produces? And in 2012, how dare you stand there and tell me and women like me that we are not good enough because we are not good enough, not White enough, to be beautiful?
Take your compliments and shove them where the sun don't shine, because they're sure as hell not wanted here.
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