I am from Tamil Nadu, a southern state in India. And most of us Tamils are dark skinned. Actually people tell that I am fair-skinned, but honestly I didn’t know that till I was 30 years of age and I was actually surprised when someone told me that I am fair skinned. I am not joking, I am serious. The reason why I didn’t know is simply because I didn’t care. Even today, I don’t care about that. I have been called various names, because of my height (or the lack of it), my physique (or the lack of it), and many other lacks-of-it… yes, I used to be offended till I started to grow in our LORD Jesus Christ. Now, when you call me names based on my height, weight, color, or anything, I can actually laugh with you. Because, for me, there are only minor, very minor differences between a Hulk and a Shrek.
But recently something happened that hurt me a lot. One of my close relatives was expecting a child. The father-to-be was very worried that the child will be born with dark skin. And I got a wake up call one morning, his voice beaming with pride, that he is the proud owner of a daughter… and he is the proud owner because the kid is fair-skinned. While I was happy for him, it left a severe pain in my heart. What if the kid was dark skinned? Does that really matter?
We are in the 21st century now. We live in the world of internet, cell phones and what not? But, still, people are still concerned about the skin color… of their own babies. I don’t know about you, but it is a sickening thought for me. I have no respect for people whose happiness depends on the color of the skin.