Adulting with Adult Acne

I try and think back to a time when I had clear baby skin. Smooth and supple. Without the cruel mark-ations left by years of Acne’s war against my skin. Since I grew up in a pre-smart phone generation, I don’t have many pictures to ponder and admire my pre-pimple life. Life. Yes. Having acne changes you as a person. It affects every aspect of your being. Your personal and professional life. You become more self-conscious and your confidence will hit an all-time low. You will get tired of people asking questions about why you have pimples. Ha, as if you the answer to that question. And you will get more tired of people offering unsolicited advices especially the garelu nuske.

After 16 years of continuous struggle with acne, I can proudly say that I have tried everything under the sun. So, I will start chronologically because aap chronology samajeye. Pimples are natural at the time of puberty and its very natural to treat them as naturally as possible at this stage. So, that’s where the first mistake was made. Every skin issue is different and can arise from various reasons. It is very important to take a dermatological opinion before irritating the hell out of your skin with neem ke patte. I had a lot of Safi and way lot of fullers' earth (multani mitti), masoor daal, neem (of course) face packs. The result of all this you ask? Well, let me just say that people who did not know my name in college conveniently addressed me as the-thin-girl-with-a-lot-of-pimples-on-her-face.

After college I shifted to Mumbai and my skin just couldn’t behave itself. I had a really bad spout of not just pimples now but open pores, blackheads, shiny oily skin and oh nasty painful oozing pustules. And not only on my face but back (bye-bye deep necks) and chest too. I had trouble sleeping because ouch these shitty things hurt like hell. I had trouble looking in the mirror. I had trouble clicking pictures (and I love taking pictures). I had trouble meeting new people. I had trouble taking baths because no matter how careful I was, one or two pimples always got burst. Meanwhile I went a little cray cray doing all sorts of self-medications like baking soda, toothpaste etc etc. Since my skin was oily, I though keeping it dry would simply just cure everything. It was only recently I came to know that over drying leads to more oil production and hence more pimply babies. Shucks. I generally slept in these concoctions and would naively believe I will wake up with clean and clear skin.

Me. Every-night back then

At this point of time I also took all advices given to me very seriously. So, when someone suggested to apply my saliva just after waking up till it dries, I did it. When an aunty randomly stopped me in a supermarket and told me to wash my face with a mixture of dried orange peel and nigella seeds – I quickly called up with parents and told them to do the needful. They kept this concoction ready in bottles for me to take back (Just remembered, I still have a few left :D). 

When situation became out of control – and by this, I mean less face and more pimples, I finally decided to see a doctor. Why the delay you ask? Because somehow with everyone around me saying “it gets better with age” - I started to believe this blatant lie too. May I add - I was well around my mid-twenties by this time. The doctor immediately put me on oral retinoid treatment. I was skeptical considering the side-effects but decided to go for it, nevertheless. Apart from the obvious side-effects (duly informed by the doctor) the medications made my skin super-duper sensitive. I was supposed to cover myself completely in the sun or else I would look like a tomato. Plus, my skin would literally peel so no waxing for like 6 months or so. Which when I think back was good only – try going to a parlor with pimples on your face and you will understand what I mean. Aap yeh karva lo clear ho jayega, aap wo khareed lo sab sahi ho jayega. Anyways, the medication did work, my skin cleared up and bought a smile to my face. Now people were all like “Wow, where are the pimples?” 

The in-progress picture

Oops celebrated too soon. Acne was back and with vengeance. It was also around the same time I noticed a lot of hair growth on my face. Now whether a side-effect of medicines or hormonal issues who knows. Just what I needed - as if pimples were not enough. Phew. This time I took the approach of internal healing. After-all what goes inside your body will reflect outside. So stopped salty, oily food. Cut-out dairy. Lots of water, salads, detox waters and the face packs were back too. Thankfully this time, there were a lot of editing tools available to hide the imperfections. My darling friend, the cool gal S (previously mentioned here) helped and still helps me choose the best pictures for uploading. All I have to do is send a bunch of pictures and she replies with the best one – editing at proper places. Not just removing marks and blemishes but if required she adds up a dash of lipstick or blush as well (attaching exhibits of her talent below). 

Uneven skin tone? No Problem

Pimple se No-Pimple

The dietary restrictions failed to show up any results, and with my shaadi less than a year ahead - it was time for a new doctor. This one was more into cosmetic procedures. No eating medicines but a lot of expensive Micellar waters, Antirougeurs cremes and so on. She also suggested laser treatment and chemical peels and I (desperate for results) and with my never-say-never attitude went for it. So, I undertook these laser treatment sittings which pricked my skin and pinched my pockets. Laser was still better but Chemical peel was extremely painful, and I could only tolerate one. Result as expected was good and I was pimple free on my D-Day. Although on my reception day, the makeup girl did remark “aap toh bahut hairy ho” while applying base-crème to my face, with my sister-in-law sitting right next to me.

But like all good things, my clear skin days did come to an end.

Next bout of acne was all over my jawline and chin which indicated hormonal issues. This time it was gynecologist visits which opened another can of worms. Cut to this day – the struggle continues. Now pimples don’t surprise or disappoint me. I have accepted them as a part of my life and face. I also don’t give much though before uploading pictures now. Ain’t no pimple gonna hurt anyone. Though over the years I now have some knowledge about what works for my skin and what doesn’t. I do basic cleansing, cleaning and hope for the best. My bouts somehow also match timings with important events like marriages, vacations, people visiting etc. Thankfully we now have makeup products specifically for sensitive acne prone skin, so that helps. People however continue to ask why I have pimples and even after 16 years I have no answers.

Le Sigh. 

Love:
Sepo

Tryst with Terror

It was a usual day of chirpiness in the marriage house. One day after the wedding and a delicious spread of kashur wazvan, everyone in the close family including the dulhan (bride) now was just getting started to a very familiar routine of chitchat, jokes and teasing. Kids were running around in the garden playing games. Adults were discussing arrangements for the impending reception. Young guns were glued to their smartphones. The house keepers had just started to have their dinner when some policemen came outside informing them to shut the doors as there was some firing in a place less than 1km from where we were. It took even less than 1 min for the tempo to change in the room we were in.

Panic set like a wild fire amongst all. The cheerful mood quickly changed to an atmosphere of uncertainty and fear. Children were hastily brought indoors. The gates were shut and wedding decoration lights all over the house switched off, so as not to attract any unwanted attention. While some were trying to find the remote to the up-the-way-hosted television which the cartoon watching children had misplaced some days back, others were impatiently trying to access TOI and NDTV on their 2G enabled smartphones (there is no 3G in J&K. Until now.) Since the firing incident was actually happening that time and the area where it was said to be is not a central location, there was no breaking news updates found anywhere even hours after the incident. Being a slow eater I had just taken a second helping of the kokur (Chicken) when this entire fiasco happened. Needless to say I lost my appetite within no time.

Some men folk tried to play brave hearts by venturing into the streets to check the scenario outside but were quickly (and angrily) rushed inside by terrified women. All the drama and worried look on all the adults really got to the children and many started crying. Little ones with no idea as to what was happening and older ones with a faint idea (having been brought up in the state where people are used to such happenings). Many decided to leave for the homes to avoid getting stuck should the firing continue and god forbidden curfew enforced. Guests from other states with no experience of such kind were petrified and rushed to their respective rooms bolting them securely. The poor bride already scared was instructed to cover up as much as possible because of different types of gold she was decked up with. The host of the wedding suggested all of us not to panic but not before informing us that usually the intent of such attacks is mass-killing and since we were a more-than-ten-member party, we needed to be cautious.

As the number of people reduced and with everyone struggling with the siege silently we could actually hear the firing shots. The people who left called saying that they saw a lot of police vehicles patrolling towards the site. With no concrete piece of information at hand, everyone was feeling helpless and not to mention tired, the wedding functions, sleepless nights had taken a toll on everyone. Staying out from Jammu for so long me and most of other guests there had no clue as to who to contact for obtaining a substantial piece of news. I somehow remembered one of my friend ~ with the right politico-socio contacts. Though he stays in Shimla I was keeping my fingers crossed and praying that he should be in Jammu. He wasn’t but he assured that he will check and update. He called back with the information that has some boy has opened fire but it’s nothing serious and we can go back home safely.

The piece of news bought a sigh of relief but we were still skeptical because my house is just a road cross away from where the incident apparently tool place. We reached the house, quickly locked up and went inside. But none of us could sleep. So we sat talking and discussing about the day’s events and similar events we had witnessed while growing up in Jammu. Once there was an attack at Jammu railway station which is again near to our house. There were no mobiles that time and we were just praying for our dear ones to be safe. Our school once received a call stating that there would be an attack when the school got over. There was an army cantonment near our school so this threat was taken seriously. Throngs of police and army were deployed outside the school. Though the call turned out to be a hoax, it did not stop the panic attacks amongst students, teachers and parents. Also an inclusion of what-to-do-in-case-of-emergency drill for us students. Then there was a bomb blast at Daler Mehandi’s concert which my father was attending. Bomb blast at M.A stadium on republic day where my sister and cousins were performing. This and many other instances but none of these match the predicament of what our parents had to suffer in Kashmir during the holocaust of early 90s.

Photo Courtesy - koausa.org

It was around midnight, our parents were rudely woken with loudspeaker calls from mosques urging Muslim youngsters to fight for jihad and Kashmiri Hindus to either convert or leave. Peeking through the windows, clutching their little ones close, everyone was terrified. Even their next door Muslim neighbours and friends with whom they had grown up were seen marching on the roads with Ak-47s shouting slogans – “Hum kya chahte Azadi”, “Kashmir main chalega nizam-e-mustafa”, “We want Kashmir with Kashmiri Hindu women but without their men”. This continued till wee hours of morning after which curfew was imposed. What was to follow would leave a huge imprint on all our destinies. Hindu homes were looted, women raped, children gruesomely murdered. All these activities were combined with a direct message to leave or bear consequences. Amid the lawlessness there was no upfront support from the government considering the fact that Kashmiri Hindus were a minority in Kashmir. Living in constant fear with no news of dear ones, in freezing cold of January with no proper food and little children, most families decided to flee. Not in their wildest dreams imagining that it would be the last time they would be seeing their homes, gardens and the city where they were born.

A lot people ask me that whether I belong to the community who were driven from their homes, they somehow find it funny. What they don’t understand is the pain that simple comment invokes. Like anyone would just easily give up their homes, school, colleges, jobs. But what option did we have against the AK-47s, the ruthlessness and no support what so ever. Anyhow, after a night full of fearful dreams we woke up to the news of exactly what happened – a domestic help aged 14 years stole an Ak-47, burst into a slum near my house (also where our helper stays). He shot 2 people before getting caught by the police. It was that day I understood what a close contact with terror feels like. And how my parents and relatives would have felt on that dark cold January night and many other days and nights they had spent praying for miracles which never happened.

God bless all
Love
Sepo

When are you getting married?

Is it just me or has the standard greeting changed from “hello, how are you?” to “When are you getting married”. I suddenly have a new found respect for Salman khan. With the entire nation going crazy over his marital status. And the sheer volume of marriage questions he is asked, I can imagine how he must feel. After a certain age people just automatically start excepting things from you.

The moment you pass your 10th standard people want to know the subject you elected for. Then after 12th they are keenly involved with you in the college selection process. For another three to four years they won’t give a damn about what you do (except for the result days). But as soon as you graduate they will be back, wanting to know about your plans for future. Further studies or job. If its job they will ask you whether or not you got it every time they see you, even if it is consecutive days. Once you do land a job, after a peaceful tenure of two to three years they will be back and this time with a more ulterior motive – Marriage.

You know you are in trouble when your Facebook page start highlighting your friends changing their relationship status from Single to Engaged on a regular basis. The time of your doom is not far away. In no time your parents will start to approach you for that special talk and required qualities. Before you even realize what’s happening there will be tons of prospective profiles thrown at you with the intent of you choosing them on the basis of overtly edited picture and highly technical (and bogus) qualifications. Then there are ever friendly and helping auntyji’s who will leave no stone unturned to find a perfect match for you. They will sit will chai-biscuit turn their entire family (and extended family) tree upside down and draw out atleast two to three ideal matches for you – with money, looks and property.

Things start to get scary when people apart from your parents, friends and the auntyji’s start taking interest in your marital status and when your friends start to post updates of their first kid. I am in that scary place right now. In the last few weeks people ranging from random colleagues to acquaintances to housekeeping people have asked me when I am getting married. When I refused to meet an old friend multiple times, he automatically assumed that I am engaged. It’s like wherever I go there’s going to be some or the other marriage talk. My office consoling friend, previously mentioned here does again nothing to sooth my nerves. In fact she tells me that in Maharashtrian society a girl of 25 has to marry a boy of 32 because a guy of 25, 26 will always want a girl of 22. In the IT sector where 24 year olds have pot bellies, image of a 32 year old with 5 month pregnant belly and male pattern baldness gives me creeps. Also she adds that when you marry at the right age, which is 24 you have proper time to enjoy for 2,3 years and then plan for a baby at 28 which again is the perfect age for the first baby. Then by 32 you would have the second baby and be absolutely free to “enjoy your life” by 35.

I was at this crossroads few years back as well and that too has resulted in a very frustrated blogpost. I can’t believe I am back there and this time with a situation graver than the last. What scares me more is that back then I could atleast imagine myself doing something ~ studying in a MBA college, working in some software company or helping my mother by washing utensils/clothes. But in this case I just can’t imagine myself married, living with a guy, cooking and cleaning his stuff. My imagination just stops at the wedding dress, shopping and jewellery after that it’s all just a dark black hole for me. This just indicates that I am mentally not ready for marriage. Being the youngest in my family for a long time, I was always dependent on my parents and sisters for all my critical life decisions. So somewhere down the line I just did not grow up, in my head I am still a little girl. I am still into hairbands and funky jewellery. Marriage therefore scares the shit out of me. I start getting panic attacks the moment anyone utters the M words. I am waiting for myself and my brain to make peace and take its time getting used to the idea of being married. I am ok with this but I guess society is not. That can be the only reason for people going bonkers over my non-married status.

All this got me thinking to whether we marry because we are ready and want to or just because people expect as to. Do we marry for the society? Buckling under the pressure? Because after a certain age it just seems normal to get hitched and avoid questions or raised eyebrows? Do we just settle down to avoid being alone at gatherings and weddings? To present that picture perfect image of ours to people…however blurred or distorted that image maybe from inside. I for one feel that marriage has been given way too much importance in our society. Let people be, they will get married when they want to. And that’s not all, even when people do get married the very next thing people expect from them is the inevitable “good news”. So overall it is just a vicious circle.

My future plan does include marriage but I don’t want my life to revolve around it. There is just so much I still have not done. I know I sound like a wistful teenager but it is the truth. There are so many things to be done, horizons to be reached, places to go, canvases to be painted, shoes to be bought, book to be written, revenges to be plotted, experiments to be done, get drunk and what not. Lots of what nots.





Heres raising a toast to not getting married.
Cheers
Sepo


Pssssst ... This is a picture free post, the absence is attributed to laziness.

Ethnicity

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.