The Air Down There


Being short does not go unnoticed in today’s world. You would think that being below the average height would let you get away with stuff because… well… no one is looking at you. You would be wrong.

Its bad enough that you get called out in school for being short. Class photographs, sports day, choir practice, physical ed training, including random sunny days, but it doesn’t end there. Being an above average student all my life did not help either. The only thing people focused on was that my height did not match the requirement.

“Where is the rest of you?” They would often ask, almost as if they were expecting a reply like – “Oh I got tired of being tall so I just shaved off part of my legs.”

You must’ve noticed a trend of 'the short people look' taking over society these days. I certainly have noticed more and more Indian women making eye contact with me or looking up to me (in the literal sense) and its probably just genetics playing up.

Its no wonder that we have more fairness cream commercials in India than anti-ageing ads. Perhaps short Indian women do not want to be associated with being portrayed younger than what they are. We are the ones denied opportunities on the pretext of 'looking' too young all our lives. (And the ad world is catching up, making us focus on the next jejune issue—fairness.)

‘Can I see your ID madam before you enter this A rated film?’ ‘Are you still in school/college?’ ‘We are definitely going to be questioned about child labour with you in our office.’

Honestly, it’s not just the big bullies picking on us it’s those short guys too.

Maybe an inch taller or shorter than you they press up against you in some desperate attempt to appear at a higher altitude. And while you feel like a ruler in the bargain they declare, ‘Aha, you see I am taller.’ It is in moments like these that I feel like holding them and saying, ‘Let it go child! You might as well superglue a pair of high heels to the soles of your feet if you are using me as your biggest achievement.’

One cannot afford to be claustrophobic, short and live in an overcrowded city like Mumbai. You often find yourself in a sardine-packed compartment of a local train with someone's armpit pressed against your face.

But we short people are made of steel. We can survive almost anything which could include the ability to perpetually look up (we may even be able to outlast the tall people in an apocalypse)!

There is nothing that we can't do once we put our minds to it—with the exception of maybe making the cut at a roller coaster ride in an amusement park.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Push

Image
It was a strange feeling, not being able to recall anything a few seconds later… or maybe it had been a few minutes or hours. I set my phone aside, knowing I had to do something but what? Look up a recipe in my saved folder? Message an old friend? Was there an event I was missing? I could feel the cogs of my mind turn slowly, almost arriving at a definitive conclusion. Then, the dopamine rush-inducing ‘ting’ sound buzzed again and all was lost. *** I’ve always found Instagram to be a window into the world of others. A glimpse of their lives shines through and then it’s gone as you scroll away. But there is a morbidity that comes as you lie on your back and flip from one reel to the next till your hand aches. It’s almost as if we are trying to find the end or go back to the beginning so that all that doom scrolling would mean something. I think I found it one night when I scrolled myself into oblivion.  It was 3 am when I found myself in a lucid dream. My phone buzzed and I awoke, r...
Read more

Reflections unseen

Image
  “I don’t like looking in the mirror… because that’s when she looks back…”  When my four-year-old nephew said these words to me I replied with the standard: “Eric, there’s no such thing as ghosts.” Though the thought was eerie, never did I imagine there was any truth to it. As psychiatrists, we are trained to understand the logic behind every fear but something about my nephew's phobia wasn't irrational. Over the next few days, I went about my business, trying to put this egregious thought to rest. What I noticed was that I grew fearful of my own reflection. For some unexplained reason, I was hesitant to look at car windows, shopping displays or even the notice board outside my office. I couldn't escape the foretelling of something demonic when approaching a looking glass. The hairs on the back of my neck would stand and I’d get a bone-chilling feeling like something was watching me. I was completely powerless against the fear that a four-year-old had planted in me. So, th...
Read more

The proposal - A short story

Image
As the music grew to a dull roar I could see that he had changed his mind. Our family and friends had gathered round and were excited to witness a climactic moment, but I knew their wait would be in vain. My eyes searched on for a growing sense of recognition in his, but found none. He was far gone. His one knee proposal felt like he was imploring me to read his mind, and so I did. Finally, standing up, he hugged me. The crowd cheered on as I put my arms around his neck and kissed him gently on his cheek. He wrapped his arms around my waist, nestled his head in my shoulders' nook and whispered softly in my ear, "I can't do this." To everyone else we were heading toward a new chapter in our lives but it was actually the end of an unexpected and beautiful journey. It wouldn't end in 'Till death do us part', it ended right there on the dance floor, where the music died.
Read more