“for those who were told they were too dark to deserve”

i was born under the same bastard sun –
but they prayed i’d bleach before i turned one.
grandma held me like a broken wish,
said, “don’t worry… kuch lep laga dena, this’ll fix.”

they checked my elbows, compared my knees,
scrubbed my neck like it held disease.
“no, she’s not adopted,” they’d often joke –
just darker than what the catalog spoke.

“kaali hai… par features ache hain,”
as if my nose could cancel melanin pain.
they fed me fair & lovely like holy truth,
taught me to chase what they stole from my youth.

schoolyards had jokes dressed as ‘funny friends’,
“aye, africa!” – laughter that never ends.
the teachers didn’t bat a single eye,
just marked me average and let it fly.

bollywood was no fucking better –
the villain’s dark, the hero’s letter
is stamped with gold, a glowing face,
the heroine’s skin a marriage base.

matrimonial ads read like casteist hymns:
“wheatish bride,” or “only fair-skinned!”
even gods in calendars have skin divine,
but look suspiciously european half the time.

my cousin’s baby came out brown –
they passed him around like mourning ground.
“don’t worry,” they said, “he’ll grow out of it,”
like melanin’s just some passing shit.

i’ve seen aunties bleach their pasty pain,
“beta, don’t go in sun – you’ll tan again.”
heard uncles say with pride and mirth,
“i chose my wife for her colour – not worth.”

they love dark skin on tv screens,
but not in daughters, or bridal scenes.
dark men can pass if rich and tall,
but dark girls? nah, that’s a fucking flaw.

and don’t get me started on fucking ads,
where black skin’s a before that always feels sad.
turn two tones fairer in seven days –
what a magical fucking casteist maze.

not once did they teach us love for shade –
just how to dodge it, bleach, and fade.
we chant unity in diversity on stage,
while burning dark dolls in every cage.

so, fuck your fairness creams and caste-filled gloss,
your shade charts that label humans as loss.
my skin is not your redemption arc –
it doesn’t need light to leave a mark.

my sunburnt soul was never yours to clean.
i wasn’t made to fit into your fairytale scene.
you don’t need light to be seen as bright –
i am fucking radiant in my own right.

Leave a comment