A Bit more than What you see!

Everyone loves a good compliment, right. I am no different, I do too.

But then, the other day, one of those compliments left me thinking. I had had this decent achievement, I would say, and instead of talking about what I was doing there, what happened, and all of it, the discussion ended up being about how I looked.

I wouldn't say I was offended, but I would say that I thought a lot about it later.

I wasn't one of the better-looking people as a kid or even in undergrad. I was average at best. Also, I was super studious and way above average in studies so I thought- yeah, my brain is my superpower, and I will use it to make a mark.

It was one of those phases when I had just hit puberty, and there were good-looking girls and guys paying attention to good-looking girls all around. I won't lie- I am a human, have my hormones, and of course, I was conscious about how I looked. But then, I have always been very practical, and so I just accepted the fact about my looks and started focussing elsewhere.

It was then, and ever since, that I have just focussed on being good at the work I do. I have grown up associating my personality with my work. I think that is also one of the reasons why I stress so much if I do something wrong. I wouldn't say I am a perfectionist, but I would definitely want a level of accuracy in the work. I also tend to beat myself for days for a goof-up that I do and boy, when I do a goof-up, it is usually more than just it so that self scorn is kind of justified too.

Anyway, returning to where we started- I feel bad when people talk about my looks. I feel bad when I find people discussing the saree or dress of some lady who accomplished something. Not many talk about Smriti Irani being a great orator. The discussion is usually about that, oh, she got fatter, or she lost weight. If not that, then the women are made fun of.

The only lady, if I can jog my memory well, who was ever talked about only in the context of her good work would be Mahadevi Verma. I also remember one discussion where someone had commented about how she was extremely ugly, so much that her husband left her.

Talk about ridiculing a woman for her misgivings; we have plenty of examples.

That funny quote about good girls didn't go places is true. You have this pressure to be eye candy.

If they don't like what they see, they won't listen.

Not going to lie; I have seen people change. With decent features and a bit of makeup, you get appreciated like no other. Suddenly, you will be found to have accomplished 10x more than usual. There is one thing about being presentable, and there is another thing about looking good. I may be presentable with formals, a well-kempt hairstyle, and a pair of flats. But, I will get attention if I wear heels (not the flat kind), probably a dab of lipstick and some makeup to enhance my features. I am not sure who defined this level of presentable for women but not all of us like it, and we have to do it just because we want to be taken seriously. I mean, take me seriously for what I say, not for how I look. And, if I do too much, I may be termed a bimbo.

I mean, have I thought about getting skin tightening done? Do I want to look younger than I am? Do I want to hide those weirdly dark circles? A big yes to everything. But will I do it? I don't think so.

So, there has to be just the perfect amount of everything.

I am not complaining or anything. All I want to say is that yes, it feels bad to do so much work, compete with "men" on fairgrounds, and still be reduced to how you look. The quintessential role of a woman as a thing of beauty and men being the bread-winner or doing the tougher jobs, I think we can bring some fluidity there. Things are changing, I won't deny it, but we still have a lot to do, and all this penchant for "how to apply the concealer correctly" isn't helping.

And now, we have this new movement about "boys like to do make-up too,"; as if just one "insecure about their looks" gender wasn't enough.

I am not sure if this is the place for such an outburst, but who cares? I had to say what I had to say.