In the eyes of the beholder

A few years back when I had returned to Calcutta for the winter holidays, I visited a parlour discovered by my mother. The biggest tradition for a true blue Calcuttan during the month of December is to attend the 24th Eve X'mas Party held at the Tollygunge Club. Like any smart, female parlour visitor, I decided to put myself through the torture of being fluff free for the occasion, a few days before the event, to prevent appearing blotched from the RED, HOT wax.

For those who have seen and know my mother, you already know by now that she's really pretty. She's the personification of the phrase 'Bengali Beauty'. And for whatever reason, I do not look at all like her. I know that. You know that. I also do not need to be told the obvious. But can you imagine what I felt, when the waxing attendant at the parlour blatantly asked me - 'Are you sure you're your mother's daughter?' Needless to say she didn't get the tip she was expecting nor did I pay for the service rendered to me since the manager of the parlour got more than just a earful from me. What?! I'm usually a paying customer and a great tipper. But did you honestly expect me not be angered by such a statement from this complete stranger?

The only reason why I remember this incident so clearly is probably because it was the first time in my life that I wanted to shed my own skin and come out fair and beautiful - a xerox copy of my mother. Since then, I have had this feeling every time somebody has a similar comment to make. Even a few days back, this guy I know (who's guts, by the way I hate) asked me - 'Your mom is soooo pretty. Where the hell did you come from?' This incident, on the other hand, was the first time I did not react.

Want to know why? I realised then that 'Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder'. And if the beholder thinks I'm not pretty or beautiful because I do not look like my mom, then it's pretty unfortunate for him/her. Because the beholder is BLIND. :-)

xoxo

P