I have taken a long, slow, unproductive break from blogging, simply because, I hadn't found anything inspiring enough.
An episode of Oprah though, has done the job. I am watching Laura Bush, her two twins, (jenna & miss whats her name bush), waxing eloquent on life in the White House. Life altering questions like- how difficult it was, to go along with George's decision to run for president, how the daughter's lives would be 'ruined', how Laura had to work on getting George over his drinking habit & how Jenna Bush has beeen 'constantly crying' while reading her mother's autobiography. Even as America's best talk show hostess pushes & prods Laura Bush, she smiles through it beningly, with her hair, skin & lipstick perfectly in place, looking radiant as only a stay in the White House can make you look. The daughters, well, I have always thought could pass off as any giggling gaggle of girls, drunk on breezers & bacardi, outside any 1st world night club. But looks wise, teethwise, grooming wise, boy, they score!
The inevitable question that arises, logically, is how did radiant, glowing, perfectly poised Laura actually manage to live with the bufffoon Bush for so long. The answer is actually quite simple. Its a family with equivalent intellect. No one would notice who's what really! (The fun really began on the show when the Bush girls spoke about the handover letter they wrote for Obama's daughters - Sasha & Malia- about how both their fathers were men of integrity, and how, the 'glare' of being Presidential kids, is worth the sacrifice for the sake of their integrated daddies. Remember, the mighty sacrifice, when Jenna was arrested for drunk driving? Well, if it were not for the White House address, I wonder if she would have been 'let off' comfortably. Some sacrifice!.)
Which brings me to the next point. Even as Laura Bush stepped into the shoes of pretty impressive predecessors as First Lady without anything to write home about, she did have a large section of American women wrapped around her little finger. Best known for saying little & spreading the sunshine of a beatific smile, Laura Bush's charm has to be JUST one. Her beauty. The woman, despite the frozen, calculated poise, can beat Hillary Clinton in the looks department hands down! Little does it matter, that Mrs Clinton made it to the team of public prosecutors investigating Watergate, had a successful career before she let the husband take the lead, tried to do some good with a doomed Medicaid law during the Clinton era, sustained her political ambitions despite the shame of a philadering president for a husband & now holds a position of such power in government. (A lot of small town ladies would tut tut over her 'ambition' & Hillary's ball buster image certainly won't help.)
Actually, Not being beautiful can be a roadblock to lots of small joys. And it can interfere with your self esteem too.
It's not easy for me to write this. I have faced this personally. My maternal grandmother, a picture of near perfect grace & conventional beauty, often drove home a point, not subtly, that my 'looks' would interfere with my marriage chances or my hopes of a media career. Strange, I never really wanted a media career. But if I were to speak in Freudian terms, perhaps the constant criticism over an issue that I don't have control over, might have pushed me to give the media a chance. God knows, that didnt go so badly. Of course, at this stage, I dont resent my granny's comments either. In the world that she inhabited, conventional beauty made a big difference to a girl's fortunes. Plus it didnt help that I had zero interest in stitching, embroidery or knitting. Actually, beauty, in small town assam, came a full package. Demure, soft spoken girls, who's eyes were always lowered in humility to the floor, and who could sing like 'melody/ malady of India' Lata at the drop of a hat! They could usually sew buttons or knit or paint or create embossing art. I would always speak louder than necessary, would NEVER look down while talking & usually slouch while standing. Singing was not exciting & needles were simply annoying. And yes, I think telepathically, a lot of people- like my granny or a couple of family friends- realised my incredible urge to assasinate their demure daughters by cross stitching their limbs. (Forgive me, I was very young & excitable.)
The comparisons always got to me. I had also witnessed the impact of weight gain on my mother's self esteem. Hands down the classiest woman in most weddings/ social dos, she was always told that she looked 'nice' or 'elegant'. No one ever mentioned the word 'pretty'.
My life has been no different. Right from school & college, I was always called 'elegant' or 'well dressed'. Some friends ventured a 'nice' or 'cool'. But 'pretty'? 'Hot'? 'Gorgeous'? NO....
It didn't help that I have always had very pretty friends, some of them totally unconscious of their conventional beauty, and therefore, very enduring. Some of course, obssessed with their weight & looks issues. Those conversations have never had a positive impact on me.
In fact, at a recent family wedding, realization came home. I had returned to a small town in Assam for my cousin's wedding after almost a decade. I have obviously gained oodles of weight & aged. So thereby followed prickly comments. See, the 'demure, pretty' Assamese daughters had not endured the scorching sun or terrible traffic of a reporter's life, nor did they have to grapple with the pressures of my current employ. At that point in time, None of the reasoning struck. The only thing that struck was how 'ugly' I had become.
Yet, it took me just a day to break out of my state of mind. And it came naturally too. I was watching some American television on mute before the wedding frenzy. I witnessed a host of female tv anchors parade onto the screen, each one, a clone of the other. On mute, they looked like overlit, over animated christmas trees, laden with costume jewelry & armed with 'full' lips, 'taut' breasts & 'taut' skin. In reality, they looked inhuman, plastic & disposable like a KFC takeaway meal.
In stark contrast, the women in my family - working women involved in a wedding- without their pedicures or facials or liposuctions, each one, above the age group of 45, looked so beautiful! Dressed in simple, traditional garb & basic jewelry, without any make up whatsoever, these desperately busy women radiated life, or the transition of it. I had seen each one of them in their younger years, when there was no gray in their head. Now, almost 2 decades later, I didnt find them look very different. Sure, they had aged. But the transition in their roles as a natural process of life- the part of organisers & sheet anchors of a younger relative's wedding- had brought out radiance & beauty that beat all 'wellness' treatments.
A dam broke within me that day. I felt free. I didnt feel the need to justify anything to anyone about how I look. While I have always tried my level best to Not let judgements get to me, they HAVE. Since that evening, I realised that, the beauty that would define me would be the beauty I created with my actions. I wanted to leave the small town behind & I did that. I didn't need 'beauty' to survive in the television business for 9 years. Now, I am at the crossroads of a major change again. And the beauty of this moment are the conflicting emotions of trepidation & exhiliaration I feel about this change.
Beauty doesnt necessarily lie in the eyes of the beholder. Beauty lies within us, and the vision that we see about our lifetimes.
So I don't need to be Laura Bush to be a published author I guess:) Who knows, I might even make it to a talk show someday. For my 'unbeautiful, ball buster' attitude.
An episode of Oprah though, has done the job. I am watching Laura Bush, her two twins, (jenna & miss whats her name bush), waxing eloquent on life in the White House. Life altering questions like- how difficult it was, to go along with George's decision to run for president, how the daughter's lives would be 'ruined', how Laura had to work on getting George over his drinking habit & how Jenna Bush has beeen 'constantly crying' while reading her mother's autobiography. Even as America's best talk show hostess pushes & prods Laura Bush, she smiles through it beningly, with her hair, skin & lipstick perfectly in place, looking radiant as only a stay in the White House can make you look. The daughters, well, I have always thought could pass off as any giggling gaggle of girls, drunk on breezers & bacardi, outside any 1st world night club. But looks wise, teethwise, grooming wise, boy, they score!
The inevitable question that arises, logically, is how did radiant, glowing, perfectly poised Laura actually manage to live with the bufffoon Bush for so long. The answer is actually quite simple. Its a family with equivalent intellect. No one would notice who's what really! (The fun really began on the show when the Bush girls spoke about the handover letter they wrote for Obama's daughters - Sasha & Malia- about how both their fathers were men of integrity, and how, the 'glare' of being Presidential kids, is worth the sacrifice for the sake of their integrated daddies. Remember, the mighty sacrifice, when Jenna was arrested for drunk driving? Well, if it were not for the White House address, I wonder if she would have been 'let off' comfortably. Some sacrifice!.)
Which brings me to the next point. Even as Laura Bush stepped into the shoes of pretty impressive predecessors as First Lady without anything to write home about, she did have a large section of American women wrapped around her little finger. Best known for saying little & spreading the sunshine of a beatific smile, Laura Bush's charm has to be JUST one. Her beauty. The woman, despite the frozen, calculated poise, can beat Hillary Clinton in the looks department hands down! Little does it matter, that Mrs Clinton made it to the team of public prosecutors investigating Watergate, had a successful career before she let the husband take the lead, tried to do some good with a doomed Medicaid law during the Clinton era, sustained her political ambitions despite the shame of a philadering president for a husband & now holds a position of such power in government. (A lot of small town ladies would tut tut over her 'ambition' & Hillary's ball buster image certainly won't help.)
Actually, Not being beautiful can be a roadblock to lots of small joys. And it can interfere with your self esteem too.
It's not easy for me to write this. I have faced this personally. My maternal grandmother, a picture of near perfect grace & conventional beauty, often drove home a point, not subtly, that my 'looks' would interfere with my marriage chances or my hopes of a media career. Strange, I never really wanted a media career. But if I were to speak in Freudian terms, perhaps the constant criticism over an issue that I don't have control over, might have pushed me to give the media a chance. God knows, that didnt go so badly. Of course, at this stage, I dont resent my granny's comments either. In the world that she inhabited, conventional beauty made a big difference to a girl's fortunes. Plus it didnt help that I had zero interest in stitching, embroidery or knitting. Actually, beauty, in small town assam, came a full package. Demure, soft spoken girls, who's eyes were always lowered in humility to the floor, and who could sing like 'melody/ malady of India' Lata at the drop of a hat! They could usually sew buttons or knit or paint or create embossing art. I would always speak louder than necessary, would NEVER look down while talking & usually slouch while standing. Singing was not exciting & needles were simply annoying. And yes, I think telepathically, a lot of people- like my granny or a couple of family friends- realised my incredible urge to assasinate their demure daughters by cross stitching their limbs. (Forgive me, I was very young & excitable.)
The comparisons always got to me. I had also witnessed the impact of weight gain on my mother's self esteem. Hands down the classiest woman in most weddings/ social dos, she was always told that she looked 'nice' or 'elegant'. No one ever mentioned the word 'pretty'.
My life has been no different. Right from school & college, I was always called 'elegant' or 'well dressed'. Some friends ventured a 'nice' or 'cool'. But 'pretty'? 'Hot'? 'Gorgeous'? NO....
It didn't help that I have always had very pretty friends, some of them totally unconscious of their conventional beauty, and therefore, very enduring. Some of course, obssessed with their weight & looks issues. Those conversations have never had a positive impact on me.
In fact, at a recent family wedding, realization came home. I had returned to a small town in Assam for my cousin's wedding after almost a decade. I have obviously gained oodles of weight & aged. So thereby followed prickly comments. See, the 'demure, pretty' Assamese daughters had not endured the scorching sun or terrible traffic of a reporter's life, nor did they have to grapple with the pressures of my current employ. At that point in time, None of the reasoning struck. The only thing that struck was how 'ugly' I had become.
Yet, it took me just a day to break out of my state of mind. And it came naturally too. I was watching some American television on mute before the wedding frenzy. I witnessed a host of female tv anchors parade onto the screen, each one, a clone of the other. On mute, they looked like overlit, over animated christmas trees, laden with costume jewelry & armed with 'full' lips, 'taut' breasts & 'taut' skin. In reality, they looked inhuman, plastic & disposable like a KFC takeaway meal.
In stark contrast, the women in my family - working women involved in a wedding- without their pedicures or facials or liposuctions, each one, above the age group of 45, looked so beautiful! Dressed in simple, traditional garb & basic jewelry, without any make up whatsoever, these desperately busy women radiated life, or the transition of it. I had seen each one of them in their younger years, when there was no gray in their head. Now, almost 2 decades later, I didnt find them look very different. Sure, they had aged. But the transition in their roles as a natural process of life- the part of organisers & sheet anchors of a younger relative's wedding- had brought out radiance & beauty that beat all 'wellness' treatments.
A dam broke within me that day. I felt free. I didnt feel the need to justify anything to anyone about how I look. While I have always tried my level best to Not let judgements get to me, they HAVE. Since that evening, I realised that, the beauty that would define me would be the beauty I created with my actions. I wanted to leave the small town behind & I did that. I didn't need 'beauty' to survive in the television business for 9 years. Now, I am at the crossroads of a major change again. And the beauty of this moment are the conflicting emotions of trepidation & exhiliaration I feel about this change.
Beauty doesnt necessarily lie in the eyes of the beholder. Beauty lies within us, and the vision that we see about our lifetimes.
So I don't need to be Laura Bush to be a published author I guess:) Who knows, I might even make it to a talk show someday. For my 'unbeautiful, ball buster' attitude.
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