|Rang: The Skin Tone — A Short Story on Skin Prejudice in India|
The second one, who was sitting next to him approves him, “Sahi keh raho he.”
By their Hindi accent, one can easily find that they are from Mathura or a place nearby to Mathura.
After a minute of cursing Metro services, they started talking about wedding celebration, they attended, yesterday. The first guy, who was a lot frustrated with Metro services, with a weird laughter, said, “Dulha dekho tune, Kala bhasand. (Literally, the groom skin color was pitch black.)”
The second one, nodded in approval, like he has nothing to say, except nodding to what the other guy has to say, but then he said, “Pata Naahi, Chorre me kya dekha ladki ke baap ne, pese hi toh jyada kama raha tha, magar rang roop bhi toh koi cheez hauve. (Literally, How did bride’s father agreed for the marriage proposal to such an ugly guy, though he is earning handsomely and earned good reputation, but still skin color is something to consider)”
The talk interrupted, when computer generated female voice in her mannerly tone announced, get your ass moving, the Lajpat Nagar Metro Station has arrived. And they did so like the computer generated voice has requested. After they left, I was still sitting on the corner seat, which is still reserved for old and differently able people, looking at the red dot blinking frivolously.
You can also read my another Metro story: Suicide. Life is beautiful. Killing Yourself is not an option.
Image Credits: Place On Top