Coming to think of it, Kalyani did have what could be termed as a
'questionable colour'. Anybody who had eyes to see can never slight her as a dark girl. No,
no way! Nobody can call her 'dark'. At the same time, nobody can generously
call her 'fair' either. Because she was born with the ambiguous complexion that
was somewhere between dark and fair, a colour that was suspended between the
two points in an uncertain hue that forever puzzled people and made them
wonder how to classify her. In Tamil, her complexion went by the common term
'maaniram', a term that was always accompanied by a discontented, ungratified
feeling. Actually, her colour was a shade of brown that was tinged with gold. It was
a variety of 'maaniram' that often caused her parents, close relations and
her community a profound anguish. If Kalyani selects the colours of her
dresses thoughtfully and teams them up tastefully, then she looked very elegant
indeed. But if she is forgetful even for a moment and wore just any garment in
certain colours, instantly as it were, her complexion would
stick out like a problem.
During her early days in London, Kalyani obediently followed the advice of
her parents, her grandmother, aunt and went through what was like a 'ritual' for
her skin. She made a face-pack of sandalwood paste and the cream of milk, mixed
it with rose water and meticulously applied it over her face. During her first
year, she had to share her room with Anna Polambi, a girl from Spain. So,
whenever Anna went out of the room on some work, Kalyani would grab the chance
to pamper her skin with this beauty treatment. Before Anna could return to
the room, she would take care to thoroughly wash off the almond-rose water
face-pack from her face until there was no trace of it left on her face. |
