I am not one of the pageant followers. I realized something was on while on Twitter –  exactly the reason why I love twitter. It keeps me a quick taste of what is happening around the world on all topics. Topics I might otherwise not feed my brain with.

I realized there could be a contestant of Indian-origin as there were talks of Bollywood dance and bikinis. The news made no difference to me. I did not seek further information. A few hours later, my twitter feed was outraging over the racist comments. I just shrugged my shoulders and let the world figure it out.

A day later as I saw the picture of Nina Davuluri plastered all over media and her tweets retweeted millions of times I saw the whole episode differently. As I mentioned I care the least about Miss America 2014 (my immediate reaction when I read the title was checking if we were still in 2013. Given the speed at which I was moving through life I would not have been surprised if it were September 2014). But then when am I just me. I am a mother and I end up seeing every piece of information I get through kuttyma’s eyes. In her is my present. I wish on the stars for her future – a future where she is happy in who she is, a future where she pursues her happiness, stands for her views and a future where she is accepted for her beliefs, her views and persona.

All this Miss.America talk reminded me of an incident that happened a year back. Kuttyma was playing with a friend who was a year older than her. Her friend had nail polish on and was showing it off. I think it was the first time kuttyma actually observed painted nails. I rarely paint them or give them the attention they probably deserve and I am quite sure kuttyma has never taken a close look at anyone’s nails (this incident changed that. She started noticing nail salons and people with neatly manicured nails). She was surprised by the vivid color on her friend’s fingertips. I could see her fall in love with it. Her friend then said “you cannot wear nail polish as you are too dark”. I saw kuttyma’s confused face and dreams collapse. It is a moment that stood out in my mind. I was appalled to hear such words (especially from someone so young). I had to do instant damage control and since then I have made it a point to get my nails polished occasionally to show my daughter that skin color really does not matter (at least when it comes to nail polishes). I have also been taking time to tell her that she is beautiful and people are beautiful irrespective of their skin tones.

Today, my daughter loves pink and purple, tulle and glitter, princesses and fairy tales. I know she will grow up and watch pageants. She will go through a phase of experimenting everything from fake eyelashes to getting a tattoo. I know as a mother I can help her organize her thoughts and find her spot. Someday soon I will talk to my daughter about Nina Davuluri and how she faced haters and proved beauty comes from within.

As I type this, the TV spews out an ad for White Tone Powder and I wonder will I ever be able to send the correct message to my daughter and compete with the marketing gimmicks

http://www.youtube.com/embed/CTnNAHsY9qw