A Barbie too…

Back in Abu Dhabi, were a five-year-old me didn’t recognize what a fancy dress contest was nor did my parents who were engaged running behind all three of us. And eventually, my mom came to the conclusion that fancy dress competition means color dress day. I was cheerfully dressed up in my best robes, a white gown with a small barbie written in a rainbow at the end. I was this Indian version of Barbie, greasy combed back hair, kohled eyes, and a gold chain with a pair of earrings, and ultimately an anklet above the socks. Just perfect!

But when I came to the class, everyone was looking so different. There were mini policemen, doctors to beggars. It relieved me to find my friend Sahla wearing a uniform. “Barbie” is better than a uniform. Her face was all ruddy, she was crying. And I asked her why. She told her mom was supposed to come now that it’s too late, she won’t come. I was praying the same “let her not come so I have a company”. (I know it’s so evil of me). But God heard the former. There comes her mom with a diva costume, crown, and glittering shoes. And there she was, like a fairy. This “Barbie” can’t beat a fairy.

I could sense the color on my cheek. She was prepared to take a shower. Even in my blurred vision, I could see my mates rehearse their dialogues, swirling in their outfit. You know what stings the most? even Sahla had a dialogue! And the saddest part, I was holding her magic wand, helping for her rehearsal.

Later everyone rallied up to the auditorium where the competition held. So I thought whatever it is I am going to stand in the front like a leader so that no one knows I am broken. They lined everyone up behind me. Police officers, doctors, fairies all behind the Barbie. But my class teacher made sure that they could permit no ‘Indian’ Barbies in the competition hall. And they left poor Barbie alone!

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