While growing up, she was quite aware of her plain looks. However, unlike families where one child is discriminated against because of her skin colour or looks, she was the apple of both her prarents’ eye.
So much so that while she knew she may not ever bag the handsomest guy on the block, she was sure that her temperament will keep her happy wherever she went.
Once she had started working, she realized she loved her work and was pretty good at it too. Her career graph was going up steadily when she met him. After over four years of living on her own, a homegirl like her was craving family life and was glad to learn that he lived with his family.
They met at a restaurant. Much against her flatmate’s protests, she wore the very basic makeup she always did _ foundation, eye liner and some lip gloss. Her argument was that he should see her the way she was. She had also seen his photos and knew he wasn’t a looker either.
However, that first meeting lasted over four hours and she was convinced she had met someone special that day. One thing led to another and soon their parents were brought into the picture. She wanted a little more time to spend with him before committing herself but they were in a hurry and after some cajoling, so were her folks.
Once they were officially engaged, they started meeting more often. At a shopping mall one evening, he asked her: “Would you like to buy some sweaters?” And she went blank before asking: “Why?” She still wasn’t used to anyone else buying her stuff.
Another time, he mentioned: “You don’t wear much makeup, do you?” To which she agreed, adding: “ No, because I don’t socialize much and anyway, in my line of work, it’s more about comfort as we do long hours at the desk. They love me for my work, not for my makeup or the lack of it.”
A month after that, the date was set for their marriage. By then, they had met quite a few times and he had told her:”How many pairs of jeans do you have? I will hold a garage sale of those as soon as we marry and you move in with us.” Back then, she had argued and that was their first real fight. Later, he said he was only joking. Only if she had known then.
Once they were married, his mum would tell her what to wear. She would pick the sari and the jewellery to go with it. Initially she thought it was because they were newly-marrieds and she was expected to be decked up. But she was in for a shock. A few months on, her parents visited them and they were told, as she sat there, that she didn’t like dressing up and they weren’t happy about that!
Fate came to her rescue and she got pregnant soon. So the flow of directions receded if not completely stopped. Every time she tried broaching the subject with him, he would sheepishly admit that he agreed with his folks on how one needed to dress up for others. “You eat what you like but you wear what others expect you to,” he said.
A new job took him, and so her and their two kids, to another town and she hoped things would improve between them. They didn’t. He still found fault with her clothes, never happy with what she wore. Moving to another country seemed like a God-sent to her. Initially he complained about how she continued to be the plain Jane she felt deep down.
However, she was a good learner; albeit a slow one. As his company hired more staff and more people moved into their complex, she figured that she needed to get her act together. It was no longer about her comfort. He was a senior guy and as his wife, she needed to look the part. So she started buying clothes and shoes. She also started getting more traditional clothes from India to refurbish her minuscule wardrobe.. Once they were off to a casino. It was her first time and since it was going to be late evening, she dressed carefully. He looked her up and down but didn’t say anything as she came out, quite pleased with her effort. But as soon as they sat in the car and he had started it, he asked: “Don’t you think your lipstick is tad too dark?” Before she could even open her mouth, he went:” OK, forget it.” Needless to say, he had managed to ruin her evening.
His complaining continued relentlessly. When she picked clothes, he would look at her and go: “I hope you know you have thick upper arm..” or “You aren’t tall so I hope you know you shouldn’t be so keen on buying boots.”
Things came to a head one evening when she came out of their room, all dolled up in a saree with matching jewellery, heels and makeup and sat waiting for him. She smiled approvingly at her kids who had condescended to wear traditional clothes for the Diwali party at his company’s guest house.
He came out in a kurta-pyjama set and open-toed sandals. But wait a minute, “You wore this last time we went for a party too. With the same people!” she blurted out.
To which he said:” This is all I got from India. Anyway, they know me for what I do, because of who I am, not because of my clothes.”
As she locked the door behind them and climbed down the stairs, she knew ‘the twain shall never meet.’
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