Brownies

It might sound controversial, but believe it or not I hate brownies. Yes, I said it. I Know hate is a strong word, but so is the taste of brownies—bitter, heavy, Overdone. What I do love, though, is the vanilla ice cream on top. Oh, to be that Sweet, beautiful, pearly vanilla , melting elegantly while everyone adores you. 

Now, before you throw hands at me, screaming, “but the brownie is the best part!” .the chocolaty, the fudginess, the richness , let me say this: everyone loves Brownies... Until they are one. The minute you’re brown, suddenly vanilla is the Crowd favorite. Vanilla becomes the prince charming, the job promotion, the fair Bride in the matrimonial ad. Brown? Just the base. The backdrop. The afterthought.

 So yes, being brown ,being a brownie is the worst thing that ever happened to me. And out of love, oh so sweetly, my parents named me kali. Beautiful name, right? Divine goddess, powerful energy. Except, in this world, it’s just a constant reminder That i am the dessert nobody wants to order. 

And the worst part of it all? Being a brown indian. 

In india, being brown has different shades—yep, just like 50 shades of grey (iykyk). Except here, it’s not a romance novel, it’s a color scale of your worth. Europeans Will call you “brown,” but back home, your neighbor aunty or a fair & lovely ad Will swear on their last roti that you’re actually black. And not the powerful, Beautiful kind ,just the “unwanted shade” kind.

Indian people are, of course, very loving and open. Open to men decorating public places with paan such a selfless act of them . Open to aunties judging girls in crop tops while their own sarees are having a full-blown wardrobe malfunction. And yes openly racist, too. Though I doubt the word “racism” has ever even crossed their minds. 

But say it out loud ,dare to call it racist. Boom , and suddenly millions will rise to defend it: 

“No, beta... It’s out of love.”

Love. pure, unshakable love. The kind that flows from your neighbour aunty to to The cosmetic companies to the movies, all united in one noble mission: to remind me Why being brown—well, black, at least in the indian dictionary—is a curse disguised as culture. 

Every brown , girl and boy, in india can relate to one thing: your entire childhood Is spent drinking milk to get fairer or marinating yourself in turmeric for 30 minutes, maximum, to “wash that brown shade off.” scrub it, rub it, peeled off like sand paper... But it just won’t go. 

And god forbid you say it out loud to any indian person that maybe, just maybe, it’s Because of melanin or something. Oh no. You’ve just started another riot. And trust me, you do not want to witness an indian riot. 

Riots in india are scary. And honestly, it’s a relief for black people that most riots happen in the name of religion. Because if it were fair vs dark? Well... Rip for me, Fellas.

Being black in india also means you are invisible. Yep, you are not presentable at all. All the actresses should be white, fair, and doll-like. But hey, don’t lose hope! We do get casted for roles... Like maids, villains, or the random weirdo in the background.and if you dare dream of being cast as the main lead... Well, honey, you are in the wrong dream. Please exit immediately. 

Weddings are my worst nightmare. The confidence I muster up after doomscrolling through thousands of motivational videos deflates faster than my eyes can blink When the indian aunties show up, dressed in horrifyingly shiny sarees and heavy jewelry, kissing and hugging you like they’ve known you your entire life. 

All the while, you’re getting squished and told, “oh dear kali , you are so dark! Omg, You should try this cream, that cream, and some homemade remedies.” 

And if you’re wondering about indian uncles... Well, they’re probably around the corner discussing politics.

The best part? They all think they’re being helpful, loving, and caring—like it’s a National duty to teach you the value of fairness. 

The constant hate from your own country is unbearable. But let’s not even talk about the world. Yep, they say all colors matter... But it only matters until you log off instagram and face reality. 

But hey, india is making progress—slowly, very slowly. Yep, they even changed the Name from fair and lovely to glow and lovely . . . . No scarcasm included. 

This is just the teaser in the life of a brown—I mean, black person in india. 

But hey, let’s be honest, being brown is not that bad. You get to... You get to... Well, Let’s just leave it like that, okay. Micdrop.

Post by Leona Biju,  XII Humanities, 2025-26 Batch