The author is a student at Maneckji Cooper School, Juhu, Mumbai; a self-confessed bibliophile who loves a cup of hot Hershey's syrup and a packet of Lays.
A loud, head-splitting, agonised scream of terror is what I am greeted to when I go to pick up my friend. We had planned to have lunch together, but at the last moment she opted out. An uninvited guest — a nasty pimple — made its entry.
My friend has just started menstruating, and so this was another horror in the waiting for her. She couldn't believe that she is going to bleed for her lifetime! With the pimple blatantly staring at her, she felt it was some sort of a freaking curse. All she wanted to do was hide her face behind every possible blanket, curtain, dupatta, and even a burkha! My bestie is so obsessed with perfection that I often tease her that she should have been born a Japanese. A perfect girl with a perfect life but the only thing imperfect about her, by her own admission, is that first big round pimple. At a time when the world is dealing with gargantuan issues like climate change, terrorism, poverty, and inflation, she is struggling with a miniscule pimple. But in her words, a pimple doesn't talk or breathe, it screams!
The lunch outing was shelved, and she asked her mom to order in a pizza and a choco lava cake. Trust me, food heals a teenager in a crisis like this.
I could see her self-esteem was in tatters and the mirror became her biggest critic. She sought divine intervention and prayed in humbled tones to Lord Ganesh. "Help me my dearest Ganesha! You are the remover of all obstacles! If my pimple is gone, I will go on a pilgrimage to Ashta Vinayak." I don't know if Lord Ganesh accepted her bribe, but my friend surely did feel better.
When I almost succeeded in diverting her mind from that pesky zit, a toxic neighbour walked in. She saw us both polishing off cheese pizzas and bombarded my friend with her advice. "Oh My God! What happened to you, beta? Try applying Colgate toothpaste at night, I have heard it works! And, beta, stay away from junk food! It aggravates zits!"
After she left, my friend was in tears! I told her that underneath her skin was a beautiful human being and that her face was not her real identification. She was her own real self — a girl who was without any pretence, flawless and fabulous! All she had to do is cancel out the unwanted noise that surrounded her, and live a life without others' validation.
I reminded her how she inspired me by listening to my eccentric talks. She has always been a happy victim of my amateur cooking experiments. And that's when I realised that nothing can make you feel inferior without your permission, not even a pimple!
This piece was submitted by our teen reader.
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