I have pretty, ill genes!

Grammatically, the title is incorrect. It should have been ‘I have pretty ill genes’ but no, it’s not about having pretty ill genes. Its about having pretty and ill genes but I didn’t like the ‘and’ thing, so I skipped it. I don’t think I can come up with a better title to place above this post. Enough about title, I should start writing the real thing.

So.. nowadays, I’m going through the most difficult phase that every Pakistani girl has to go through - the phase of finding a husband! I, personally, am not going through it nor do I want to, but I have some relatives who like to ‘take care’ of things.. that’s right, you got it. Though twenty is a young age for it, as most urban people will put it, but when you are left with no mother to look after you, you are supposed to get married ASAP. I wonder what dads are for! Coming back to what I wanted to write about, it was something that happened almost two years ago, but today, I came across something that was not even linked to it but somehow reminded me of that incident.

I had a boyfriend who was from a very well educated family. Both his parents were dentists, which is VERY big in Pakistan. No, not being a dentist, being a ‘doctor.’ People who gain this precious prefix before their names are considered ‘better’ than those who fail in doing so. I, on the other hand, dumped this opportunity by quiting pharmacy but that’s a different matter. Anyway, as the culture here does not permit us to get engaged and tell our parents, as happens in Vegas West. Here, we have to tell our parents we like someone and then they see into the matter and so on things are sorted out.. or not.

When my ex-boyfriend told his mother about me and my family, she came up with an amazingly absurd flaw in me. Out of all the things he told her about me, she got stuck on the fact that my mother was a diabetic. And because she was a diabetic, I have a 50% chance of getting the disease, and my kids could have a 25% chance of it who could be her grandchildren if this matter proceeded and she didn’t want grandchildren who could’ve a 1/4th chance of being diabetic. She must have been a topper at medical school!

My reaction to this whole thing was; ‘I cannot change my genes!’

Yes, I do have a very strong diabetic history on my maternal side so.. WHAT?!? I have pretty genes too, and those too are from my maternal side. I felt really sorry for the doctor mother because she missed those really pretty (and diabetic) grandchildren, which other moms so look forward to! I also felt that if this matter proceeded, I’d have to take my CBC, MRI, CT-scan, UltraSound and all other such reports over tea.

I’m living in this society for four years and I have, every time, failed to see the logic behind it’s norms. The social class I belong to might have come out of the ethical issues but we are not ready to give up the habit of finding flaws. God forbids, what if one of her child gets hurt really bad in an accident or something and their face is messed up? Or if later in life, she got diabetes?

Note: This post is not directed towards the doctor mom personally. And the break-up was not because of her as well. Also, in the above lines, by ‘her’ I mean the people who think like that.

They just have to find a flaw in you even when you’re pretty, size small, intelligent and from a cultured, educated family. At that time, I was upset and confused. Today, when I remembered this, I just laughed my heart out. I might reach my thirties and still be single, something not liked here, but I’m never ever going to accept a man, and his mom, who cannot accept my ill genes!

Weekly Photo Challange – Nail Art

It is my favourite kind of art actually. I totally love doing it and I’m good at it too (you can see). The above picture was not taken by me btw, it was taken by the one whose nails I worked on.

Of ‘good’ looks.

I came across what was posted as a ‘fact’ on facebook,

“Our brain makes us see ourself 5x more than beautiful than we really are.”

I didn’t google it to see if it is actually right or wrong as it reminded me of something one of my teachers in college once said,

‘Each and everyone loves his/herself. And It is a blessing of God that He made us love ourselves, or we couldn’t ever be happy.’

Now this, people, is something to ponder on. I don’t know if its just a built-in feeling we have or its how our brains work. However, I read the comments on the above ‘fact’ and was surprised to find myself as the only person among 1000+ commentors who didn’t think ‘Oh God, am I so ugly?’ I didn’t go through all of them but that’s all I could see while scrolling down. I was really, really surprised because I’m actually very much in love with how I look naturally. Its shocking to me why people cannot love themselves how they look, even when they are made to do so. And its sad too. Sad, because it is the reason of their unhappiness. Sad, as today almost everyone wishes to look like someone else. Even the celebrities, who are looked up (as beautiful) by everyone, are always getting their nose(s) thinner or their lips fuller.

I’m not talking about being Narcissist or self obsessed, but why people cannot see beauty in themselves when they see it in everyone else? Why they cannot dare to step out of their homes without ‘trying’ to look better? I’m not against getting hair done or putting on better clothes. I just cannot absorb people trying to change their faces or their bodies surgically, and that 98765432 lbs of make-up, and those fairness/tanning creams as well.

I, for one, am never going to give up myself for anyone’s standard of beauty. My brain probably shows me myself 10x more beautiful than I really am, but I’m happy that atleast it works the right way.

Or perhaps, I repeat, perhaps, deep down everyone thinks he/she is beautiful and they try only for others. They might think they’d be considered backward or something like that for not putting that 98765432 lbs of make-up, or not getting all those surgeries that others think they should have, or simply that they won’t get mixed in with the class they belong to. Well, who wants to get mixed in (and lost) among people? I want to stand out. And I wish everyone’d want to do that. I know I’m not pretty, but I know I’m brave. Brave enough to be myself. If I ever preached of something, it’d be not trying to look good, not trying to achieve what a bunch of jerks describe as beauty and go natural. Preach what Eminem said three years ago, ‘Never let them tell you, you ain’t beautiful.’ As I’m really, really tired of fake, unhappy, hidden under make-up faces.