isn’t she lovely?
little girl, of dusky glory, your skin is made, the blood of your ancestors that rebelled against fair-footed, tyrannical oppressors, spat upon, kicked to broken, guilt-filled alleyways railed, abused, pushed to the side, mangy dogs they were called- the motherland out of their reach seeds grown by the countrymen's hard work, now trampled over, men in stained khaki, power abused the mirror reflects wishes of fragile, porcelain skin you yearn to possess, marriages waiting to be fixed your mother tries, relentless, oil through your matted air, malai and fading haldi on your darkening skin stay out of the sun, kaali ho jaayegi, watching from windows as flighty games of tag ensue your childhood passes you by, stings like a bee spurned, honey's tender respite slips through troubled fingers embracing adulthood, you walk out into sunshine and blessed opportunities of flourishing minds representation for the first time, the actress resembles you, her dark brown skin illuminating your wide eyes fairness creams & forced ointments your weary relatives bring you, gone now like light-skinned ideals you are brown, and you are proud, little girl no more, but a woman, you seek comfort in your dark skin. Footnotes: In the opposition to 'Glow and Lovely'. Changing a single adjective can't undo years of colourism. malai- milk that's all curdled and gross haldi- turmeric kaali ho jayegi- you'll become dark |
Author: Anoushka Kumar is a teen writer from India who writes angsty poetry and prose. Her other interests include quoting obscure AVPM lines, blaring indie rock and over analysing the queerness of poets. Find more of her work in the Crossed Paths Mag, the Teen Zine and the Cathartic Literary Magazine.