"The festival of lights"- They say... Yes! I see the light... But just for a moment. A light with a sound; And toxic smoke!!
Boom!! Boom!! They burst... Giving me a mini attack!! Young and old alike Making my head crack- With ache...
I smell smoke It's unbreathable!! I hear animal abuse... Crackers tied to their tails!! I see houses burn... Warehouses burst... With lives inside... And still- Many think crackers are fun!! I see wads of money... Burst and burn... Turn to ash...
Still- they call it "Festival of lights"... I see gloom and fume With nature's tears- Rain!! Climax...
It’s a sad incident, but I really wanted to share my experience. So let’s begin…
I was really young when I experienced it. Most people experience it early (like the moment a child is born and unaware of what their relatives are discussing!). I was 7 or 8 years old at that time. I don’t have a clear picture of the whole story, but the word I was called is still etched in my memory.
Ouch!! Words can hurt…
I was put into a Hindi class at a very young age. Hated it. But there were people to make it better. The teacher was a popular one in our area during that time. Most of my classmates from school studied there. That was the primary reason I was put there. I made a lot of friends. And there was a boy among them, a funny one, who never fails to make you laugh so hard that your stomach hurts. His elder sister was the one who called me names because of my skin colour.
As I said before, I don’t remember why she said that. One day, she called me‘karuppi‘, which translates to ‘blacky‘. I didn’t know it was colourist, discriminatory… I knew nothing, but it hurt hard. I don’t know if I cried then and there, but I remember bawling my eyes out to my parents all night. My dear father had to go to my little friend’s house to get me an apology from his sister.
It hurt so bad 😢
I got the apology. My friendship with the boy did not break. Everything looked good outwards. But things changed inside. For example, an innocent child learnt that her skin colour was not favourable, she learnt that words can hurt, and she learnt how much her parents love her for what she is, a brown little crying mess. 👨👩👧❤️.
The irony was that my friend’s sister is brown too, browner than I am ( not being a colourist here!). Maybe someone did the same to her…she got hurt too. No one knows.
Though there is a lot of talk surrounding such discrimination in recent times, we can’t put an end to such issues completely. Discrimination still happens, and it can hurt. But it is us who should be confident and never hurt others the same Way.
Maeil Talks 