Black???...Enough!!!

Black was just a colour to me until I started realising the world around me. Not everything around me was fair, in the literary sense and in the philosophical sense. The tag of a black kid was set on me at a very young age. I still remember going to my mother after school and asking her why i was born so dark. The kids at school never really understood that it hurt me badly to be mocked at for my natural body colour tone. I used to be really aggressive about it, but it is easier to close a crack in a dam and than to shut the mouth of a person. Well, i felt that things would improve when the kids grow upto be teenagers and when they become mature. But, alas even today, while working in an MNC, the stigma of being a dark guy, follows me. To be honest, I really don't like being made fun of for my colour.

Black is associated with power, elegance, formality, death, evil, and mystery. This is the basic implication of black as a colour. But, am i really black? All these people who enjoy calling me black, i don't think that i am really black. I am dark, but i am not black. Indians are basically chocolate brown in colour. That is the colour of the mud and in a way, I am proud to be born of that colour. I am closer to Mother earth than any of you!!! I was born in a poor family and my father was a person who came up in life through hard work and determination. When I was young, he used to tell me tales of how the landlord saw my father and his family with contempt and how they had to move out of the way when the so called fair guys came by. History calls it untouchability...I call it atrocious. Having grown hearing all the hardships my father had to endure because he was born in a poor family and becuase he was dark, i hated anyone who found too much pleasure in making fun of my body colour. Fun should never be at the expense of hurting another person's sentiments. At that point, you cross the line of fun and enter the dark area of insult.

Back in America, making fun on the basis of colour was called Racism. What do you call it now? I think it could be associated to some fun time in an office. It is strange and pathetic that people really find pleasure in making fun of some individual's physical shortcomings. I don't understand why people don't go around making fun of physically handicapped people or mentally ill people. They view them sympathy and try to support them. I don't need anyone's sympathy nor do I need anyone's support. I have always been a loner in my life and have always suffered at the hands of my friends. But, could you please refrain from hurting me again and again? Each time you make fun of me for the colour i was born in, I look upto God and ask him, why me of all people??? Can't you see it my friends??? Each of your rebukes are like nails thrust into my flesh. I am sure you will not understand. But, some things have to be experienced and not just seen. When i write my life's story in this blog, you will understand why I am getting hurt. Until then, you can really go on hurting me...calling me black!!!

Again, when I think of it, if you are really being happy calling me black, you could as well continue with it. I believe that if I could make a person smile and know that he is happy, then that is the best feeling in this world. So, go ahead and have fun at my expense. I just want you all to know that i am black because I was born to my father!!!



Don't think I can't answer back
Words aplenty in my mouth, I do pack
But, each time, you call me black
I feel, it is culture, that you lack!!!

Love & Peace,
AK