Mothers and Tanning

Indian mothers are obsessed with their daughters tanning. Mine didn't show obvious biases except whenever it came to my career choices. "Mom I want to join the army", was met with "Shee! They'll make you cut your hair like a boy and you will do rigorous drills under the sun all day. Don't you like your hair and skin?"

"Mom, I should have continued being a journalist like Lois Lane and I may have met Superman", to which she replies, "And stand under the sun on fields all day to get one comment? Think again!"

Scorching summers, the sun and Indian mothers do not go hand in hand. I almost feel like crying and laughing when I recall these conversations today. How on earth can someone's career choices be dependent on heat?

Fifteen years in corporate communications and one child later, do I have life regrets? Yep. Just like anyone else. Therefore, the one thing that I do proudly now is to take a glorious dip under the 4pm sun in Gymkhana Club's heavily chlorinated pool.

I step out looking like an overbaked potato, nicely tanned and shriveled up. And that's my answer to tanning in the sun. Tan however much you want to, because the sun was created for you and me.

Too late to switch careers now, but it's never too late to sun-bathe and look like a juicy, burnt ripe watemelon. 

I have no solutions though, for the brain frying we endure during the weekdays. Sigh!