My parlour aunty wanted me to look like Snow White on my wedding day. The problem was, I didn't

I have known this for a long time now: India is a country obsessed with fair skin. And if brands endorsing fairness creams are to be believed--if you don't have a milky white complexion, then you better kiss your chances of finding a nice boy, goodbye.

Anyhow, the craze to paint the face white hit home, when I visited a parlour in my hometown to get my bridal make-up done. And I was pretty adamant that I would not allow the beauty technicians to lather foundation five tones too light for skin tone. However, once the very dominant parlour owner took charge, I could hardly squeeze a word in.

Let's just call her Miss M for the time being.

So, before attacking me with an arsenal of make-up products, Miss M examined my face for about five minutes like I was a dish meant to be tasted. And after another next few minutes of pondering, she decided that she would make me look like Snow White.

Much to my horror, she asked one of her attendants to hand over a palette of foundation, which had a plethora of shades too light for me. So, before she could torture me any further, I politely asked her not to paint my face white as I had no intentions of turning into a Geisha. I also told her that I would be much happy if she kept the make-up minimal.

Also read: "Sweet mother of God, why do you hate me so!" and other things I wish I could tell my parlour didi

Much to my chagrin, she looked at me with such disappointment, as if I had just insulted her entire family. She went onto reprimand me for my foolishness by sharply saying, "I am the expert here. Please let me do my work. Let me know your opinion once I am done."

So, I kept my trap shut, praying to look like a normal human being on one of the most important days of my life. After about twenty minutes of utter silence, she finally asked me to open my eyes.

Honestly, I will never forget what I saw in the mirror staring back at me. It was the face of a ghost, maybe even paler than Casper or the chudail in the movie The Ring. I couldn't help but shout that I wanted her to wash my face at once. However, she looked at me as if I had suggested something entirely blasphemous.

She then went onto lecture me that it was very important for me to look my best on my wedding. After all, my parents were spending a bomb on the function, so that the all friends and family could see how beautiful their daughter really was.

When I pointed out that looking like a ghost had little to do with looking beautiful, she retorted that she was actually doing me a favour by making my complexion look lighter than what it really was.

After much argument, I requested her to allow one of her attendants to do my make-up as I clearly did not share her vision. Thankfully, she relented and made a quick exit. And I was over the moon to wash my face and look like myself, despite the dull tone, the blemishes, the zits, and a not-so white face!

After all, it's always better to look closer to a human being rather than Casper's relative.

Also read: The pressure to look my best on my wedding day is killing me