Children, no more children

A lost childhood is the worst that one would want in one’s life. The crisis that India is beginning to face. Interestingly, there was a similar article in India Today Magazine with the title “No Kidding”. I am referring to the new fag that has set in. Cosmetic Surgery for Children. What rules in an Indian household today is what the children say. When I talk about children I am referring to those that fall anywhere between 6 to 16. Cosmetic change –laser surgery, breast implants, health spas, manicure, pedicure, facials, bleaching, hair coloring, nose correction. What is astonishing is that these children are being accompanied by parents. Rakhi Sawant, the controversial item number of Bollywood who underwent a breast implant says she was surprised when she found a 15 year old kid in the same hospital to which she went to. And she adds that she felt happy to know that they were other women (quote , unquote) like her who wanted to undergo a change and feel more liberated. A 15 year old is not a woman and undergoing a breast implant at the age of 15 is not liberation. Doctors have guaranteed that Breast implants are completely safe for adults. It is not medically safe to have one done in children. The silicon may interfere with the underdeveloped breast tissue and cause permanent damage. The question under consideration here is why surgeons take up such operations. It is these people who can place a firm standing on the argument, it is the surgeons who would be taken seriously if they advise the parents about the seriousness of this issue and not an editor of a newspaper or a blogger like me. When some children were interviewed for the reason that made them undergo the change, many quoted they wanted to be like certain celebrities and others said their boyfriends/girlfriends were not too happy about them

Bombay which is a hub for the new fashion has a umpteen salons and spas and parlors that are specially made for children. Fashion houses have started to dive into the beauty industry since it is one that is thriving in India. There are 2 sections of parents- those who are helpless and are forced to take children to cosmetic surgery hospitals, spas etc and others who think it is worth the money. There is a Gym for children in Mumbai where a lot of 6-7 year olds visit. Weekends are spent on making oneself look better while people of my generation used to play and enjoy the freedom that the week gives to us. Looks didn’t matter to us. As long as we looked clean and tidy, it was good enough. We were children. We didn’t need to look “good”. I also read about a girl who is in her 9th standard from Pune and spends a minimum of 3000-4000Rs at the parlor. When interviewed on why she spends such exorbitant amounts, she justifies herself by telling that she frequents the pubs, meets a lot of friends and hence it is a necessity that comes along with all this. There was another case , where a mother and child pair came to a hospital along with the photo of a celebrity and the mother demanded that her daughter be made a look-alike of the person in the photo. One section of doctors in India are fighting to remove this evil while another are pocketing the huge sums of money that they receive to perform the personality change surgeries on young children.

Kaya Skin Clinic offers laser permanent hair removal surgery and one of their advertisement picture has a young girl being operated at by a professional. These clinics are the branded ones in the country , hence come with a big price tag and drive a huge hole in parents’ pockets.

Why are these children wanting to become adults very early and at an age when they should be rejoicing their childhood. And many of us here, at this point in life would do anything to get back to good ol’ days. Are these the necessary evils of an easily westernizing world?

What is even more surprising are the rates that an operation would cost to a parent:

I have picked a few :

Breast Impant: 1.25 lakh Rs

Nose Correction: 50,000-75,000 Rs

Laser Hair Removal surgery: 25000 Rs

Love is in the air

Incongruous behavior, insatiable quest for knowledge is what describes me- Shreya Kamal

 

I sit at my office, the sun beaming in with all its pride. Sometimes I so hate you. Wish one could change the season according to one’s mood. This set-up is so inappropriate to my mental state. I see that pictorial masterpiece of the frame. The picture perfect frame- of me and Kamal Kashyap that Sampada our friend gifted us. Mom used to complain about me using "€œsweets" to refer to kamal before my in-laws or any of my relatives for that matter. It all seems so alien now

 

In the subway when I was traveling back home. This day hadn'€™t been more beautiful than ever. It had just been three months since I got married. After the elaborate wedding at India, we got back to the place that played with our destiny- New York. The train was crawling screeching and halting at every little station that passed by or at least that's how it seemed like to me. I wanted to rush home. I looked out and saw a carpet land right next to the window and there he was- Kamal sitting on the carpet with the Aladdin-like clothes. I scurried to the window waiting it to open up. A mighty halt met me and I realized my silly fantasies and got ready to get down at Amsterdam Avenue. Finally it came. I was very fast-paced. Today, I had decided to get back home, set right the mess in which our house was, cook the yummiest food that kamal would enjoy. Oh yes, forgot to mention It would be a candlelight setup to celebrate our three months of tolerating each other. With all these thoughts filling my mind, I stopped at the Indian grocery and picked the essential. Carrot, Cucumber tomatoes for soup, capsicum, tomatoes, onion for salad, atta and radish for the brilliant mooli paranthas, paneer and peas, and other greens for the peas pulao and paneer sabzi. (Too elaborate I guess). Meeting Julia –my neighbor on my way, I described to her my happiness and she was very amused at the way Indians celebrate and value little things in life. At this point I am telling you, we Indians are born that way. We don’t want to lose what we have. And if it is a person, you do not want to even joke about it. And for those Indians living at a home away from home, this is more important. Shreya –me is very keen on celebrating little things in life. Now you know why three months after marriage matters to me a lot. I opened the door like how a hungry animal would if it knew its prey was inside my door. In 15 minutes, the house sparkled with the lighting that we purchased at Home Depot last month. Finally, I wondered, it came to be of some use. It added to my romantic mood. I carefully collected those multi-colour pebbles that I been saving for long and rolled them out of my hands into the exquisite glass bowl. I saw the pebbles merrily dancing and sliding by the side of the glass bowl as though relieved to be out of my hands. I called up amma and told her I love her. Asked her last minute tips for the grand meal. I prepared the meal, the appetizers and the dessert in a jiffy taking all care not to heat them even for an extra minute. The doorbell sang. I hopped and danced to the door in my white dress that seemed to merge with the lighting. I checked myself in the mirror right beside the door for any last minute touch up that would be needed. I looked like an angel. There he was standing mighty, tall, dusky, handsome, messy hair- which I like the best in him. I could see that he was tired. Not giving him a minute to settle into the atmosphere that he was being welcomed into, I gave him a huge bear hug and told him to be ready in 20 minutes for the celebration for which I have been planning for the past 3 days. Kamal – looked around like a lost cat, thinking for a second if he was in the right house. Our house had never ever been so beautifully lit. We do make an effort to keep the house tidy but sometimes a house is a house only if it’s messy. I saw him limping down the stairs but just ignored it thinking it was one of those old cranky jokes. We went by the pool side and took our places at the table that I had put there with the lovely white lace drape flowing so perfectly over the table only to match my dress. As we ate the lovely meal, I started talking about those days when we used to meet to get to know each other better, those days when both are parents used to call anxiously to know whether we liked each other. He kept listening and laughing at the same time. As we finished our desserts. I felt a hand hold me hard and swing me into eternity. As I swirled and turned and tossed, I wanted to look back and see who it was. I wanted to know where I was being pushed into. I wanted to be there by my house enjoying and swallowing every little thing of this beautiful day. I wanted to keep replaying this every year. I had a wet feeling. A feeling that I was going to drown into reality. And then I felt the hand hold me again. I cleared my eyes to see the truth, the life that lay ahead of me. Then suddenly that hand seemed familiar, only to notice that it was Kamal. We had thrown ourselves into the pool. We floated with ecstasy. Singing merrily, dancing around. I thanked god for what had been showered on me, for the love I got. It was a day to remember, a day to relive

What does this look like?

Hey,
Guess what this looks like. The clue is it that we have played with this when we were young, in fact many of us have constrcuted this even ...
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And this?? easy one
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