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Ok, this topic is absolutely one of my most…I don’t know…unnerving.

To be fair…

Fair & Lovely, that is!

For as long as I can remember, the color of my skin was a topic of conversation.

You see, I’m not the fair-complexioned Indian. I’m what they call wheatish.

Yes. The color of wheat.  Whoever came up with that term?

But for a more modern, hipper term, I’m going with latte.

And during those summer days when I just hung out in the sun?

Well, I turn a nice espresso.

So, I’m just going to get right into it.  I mean, I’m not here to talk about types of coffee.

One of the harshest things ever said to me happened when I was 16.

Awkward stage.

A very fair-skinned aunt visiting from India was staying with us during the summer. 

So the ‘espresso’ version of me

“Hai, hai! You’re so dark. Who in the world will ever marry you?”

I stopped dead in my tracks.  Dumbfounded.

There are certain moments in your life when you remember everything.

The words. The place. How you felt.

I already had huge insecurities about my skin color from comments made by other family members.

But this?

This left a mark.

Remember, I’m 60. And I still haven’t forgotten it.

And yes, Indian aunties everywhere—related or not—seem to feel perfectly justified commenting on skin color.

Fair = Pretty.

Not Fair = Not Pretty.

That’s right.

A Desi judging another Desi.

Based on skin color.

So yes, did I scrub my face with turmeric and chickpea flour paste hoping to make my skin brighter?

Yes.

Do I buy foundation a shade lighter?

Yes.

Did I even try the Fair & Lovely cream, promising to make my skin bright and fair?

Of course I did.

Do I comment or judge people based on their skin color?

Of c.

Why would I?

Still, I don’t think I’ll ever be completely comfortable with my own skin color.

Because certain things get embedded in your brain.

You can question them.

You can reject them.

You can even know better.

But that doesn’t mean they completely disappear.

To Desi or not to Desi.