I have heard people say, “You are such a brave person! So confident, so sure of yourself.”

Am I? I wonder.

I often enough let it slide by.  For I have found  people like to believe what they want to.

I don’t think I was ever a brave person. My heart pounds away at the thought of a job interview, embarking on a journey, flying and attempting anything remotely new. I hate conflicts of any kind. My ears redden, my heart beats fast and I find myself having an argument in my head rather than confront the person. I am a regular chicken.

When I was a child, the very arrival of the TTE during the train journey would reduce me to a trembling mass. Years later, I learnt that only those who embarked on ticketless travel had to worry!

 

Needless to say, cross continent flying over swathes of water leaves me a wreck and I binge watch movies. Watching me having a time of my life, might give an impression I enjoy my travel and living it up.  But then that is my way of ensuring the pilot doesn’t doze off at the controls. Even when I nod off, I wake up with a start, my heart pounding wondering if I am amiss in directing the pilot!

 

As my surgeon told my daughter on the eve of one of my surgeries, “Are you sure you are HER daughter and not a product of some cloning? She is so afraid of her own shadow.”

 

But then life does throw things your way that you are forced to roll along with its punches. And today I realize I am brave yet a coward. Aren’t people a contradiction?

 

When Tennyson wrote, Men may come and men may go, but I go on forever to describe the journey of the brook; little would he have realized that his lines encapsulates my relationship with my Psoriasis.

 

I was seventeen when my eagle-eyed mother noticed a discoloration on my right knee when my skirt rode up as I stretched out my legs. Thus, my journey with this skin condition began.  Very soon, the lesion had spread to my other knee and elbows.

 

As my visits to doctors continued, my choice of my wardrobe was directed by my skin condition. Gone were the preferences for skirts or sleeveless clothes. I was extremely slim and could have carried most of the clothes with aplomb but unfortunately, it was not to be so.

Through it all, I finished my graduation and realized I loved to teach and was brave enough to become a teacher of ‘little hawk eyed’ students who invariably would ask me, “Miss, what’s that in your hand?”

I did brush it off bravely but my heart used to sink each time my attention was drawn to my elbows. Knees were kept safely behind Jeans, Salwar and Saris. My love affair with my Saris began when I stepped into my twenties and it continues even today. That miraculous drape can hide multitudes of ugliness as far as I am concerned. Through it all, I was careful with my blouses. The neckline for my blouses would go deeper but my sleeves never went shorter!

Three-plus decades later, my psoriasis and I have turned pals. I have moved from my childhood home in Hyderabad and lived in as many as five cities in India and Indonesia but my psoriasis was my travel companion and a faithful shadow. We have what one would call an amicable relationship. I would ignore it most times unless; it decides to misbehave particularly during winters.

I wouldn’t go so far to say that this condition is like an albatross around my neck but it sure is mote in my eye!

And then I think that people of my generation were quite brave for they married a stranger! I tell myself, if I were brave enough to marry a stranger in an arranged marriage setting, move five cities, start a life afresh in each place, give birth to two wonderful children, make peace with her psoriasis, fight the innate fear and learn to drive in the famed Bangalore roads, fight the big C and go under the knife close to half-a-dozen times, I must be brave.

When I see myself in the mirror, it is the image of an ordinary woman that I notice.

The irregularity of my features hardly bothers me now. My eyes have been too small for my frame. Some East- Asian genes seemed to have skipped some two to three generations and made its presence known with me. I am sure that it must have bothered me when I was growing up but today, I tell the photo studio guy, “Look I can either smile or keep my eyes open. So decide what you want it to be!”

What I see today is a woman who has enough experience and more than enough gumption to give gyaan whether welcome or not. A woman who makes friends as easily as make enemies. A woman with a smile that is warm enough to welcome people into her fold but loves to talk- a bane and a boon in her case. I see a woman who does not let grass grow under her feet. A woman who likes to learn new things but lazy enough to binge-watch serials and movies. A woman who loves all things beginning with a T- talking, tales, teaching and Tea. And a woman who hates any kind of adventures!

This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’
hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla
in collaboration with Ratna Prabha.