The Curse — A Short Story
Synopsis — How does a teenage girl face a new scary reality when she is diagnosed with vitiligo, a skin pigment disorder?
The loud tap brought her back from a sweet dream. Niharika rolled over right on her bed and saw a black drongo pecking its beak against the window pane ceaselessly. It was irritating.
Shoo!
The bird flew, though it was fruitless for now to sleep again with the sun reaching its zenith in the white sky and a new day had already begun in full swing. She grabbed her iPhone and began surfing the virtual world from WhatsApp to Facebook to Snapchat and finally to Instagram.
“Only 900 likes and 100 new followers?” she muttered in disgust. “I spent three whole weeks working and shooting this dance video and it wasn’t the result I had expected. What more you want, you morons?”
Slamming her iPhone on the soft blanket in irritation, she left the bed and went straight to the washroom. While standing before a big wall-sized mirror, she began observing her face thoroughly. This was her daily ritual. She had sharp features, dark brown eyes, and a wheatish skin tone. Her ruffled jet-black hair was dangling in front of her eyes, and her elongated face had two cute dimples. Her teenage years were about to end.
Then, she gradually pulled up her pink T-shirt. Her eyes were scanning the body from top to bottom. She was stoned when they saw a white patch on her abdomen. Though she had white patches on the back and breast for a while now, this spot was new. A pang of terror swept across head to toe, increasing the heartbeat and sweating the arms and forehead. No…No. It can’t be possible. Oh my God, please don’t be.
She got dressed up without wasting a single second, rushed downstairs, and picked up a sedan standing in the garage. Luckily, no one had seen her leaving the house. While driving the car, her thoughts were swirling around the words of the doctor, recalling the first time she had heard about the disease four months ago.
Child, it’s called Vitiligo. A non-lethal, genetic disorder in which the body’s immunity itself begins to kill its melanin cells, which are responsible for skin pigment. It’s somewhat incurable. No one knows when it will stop. In some cases, it may be contained in some places. However, in unlucky cases, it spread to most parts.
Within 20 minutes, she reached the skin doctor's clinic, where she had been taking treatment for the disease. Instead of waiting for the appointment, she stormed into the doctor’s cabin, pulled up her t-shirt, and pointed at the white patch on her abdomen.
“They are growing,” said Niharika in distress. “You told me that they won’t. I don’t think medicines are working.”
“Let me look at it, my child,” said the doctor as she observed the patches rigorously. The doctor’s eyes had disappointment and hesitation. “Well, I don’t lie to you. Indeed, it is growing. As I told you before, there is no authentic treatment for Vitiligo. We can just try different medications.”
“Please do something, I am begging you,” Her voice was breaking down with tears and distress. “My career will be ruined if and when it spills over the face and arms. I can spend whatsoever money you ask for.”
“Don’t cry, my child. I will give more powerful medicine this time. Now you go home and take a rest. I will talk to your parents about the new medications. Don’t be depressed about it. Miracles do happen.”
One week had passed. Since then, every day was a nightmare to live in fear of whether more spots would appear on the body or not. Nothing mattered right now except these scary white spots. Her social media manager and best friend Akshita, came to Niharika’s house as the latter didn’t come to the office for the entire week. Akshita was of the same age as Niharika, having a dusky complexion and a lean but good heighted figure.
“What happened? Why’re you not coming to the office?”
“Nothing. I’m not feeling better these days, so I’m taking more rest.”
“It’s okay,” Akshita said in a bossy voice, “But as a budding influencer, we can’t take long gaps. Followers need constant content unless they get disconnected.”
“Post some old videos in the meantime. I don’t think I will come this week either.”
“Okay.”
“What about the last video?” Niharika snapped at Akshita. “The content is good and we’re working on it for many days. The performance was very bad.”
“I also thought about it. Sometimes, algorithms work very differently than we think. It promotes bad content over good. And we can’t do much about it.”
“I don’t think so. I’m very worried and apprehensive about it. It may be harmful for our business in the long term if the trend continues. Brands are also getting choosier regarding influencers now.”
“What about your boyfriend Nischay? Did he come back from London?”
“He will soon come. So far, he is still doing his project there.”
The gossip went on for the next half hour, in which Niharika took a half-hearted part. She wanted Akshita to leave as soon as possible. Her mind was wandering off somewhere else. She wanted solitude. She was in depression and cursing her destiny for giving her this disease. What did I do wrong? Why me? Why not others?
“Don’t worry, my child,” consoled Niharika’s father to her. “There must be some way or some foreign treatment that may bring the skin pigment back. I won’t leave any stone unturned to find the right treatment.”
“I can’t face them, mama,” she was sobbing, hardly words came out of her mouth. “It is spreading and soon it will be over my face. All of my friends, followers, and colleagues will laugh at me because of this weird skin.”
Even though her parents knew the inevitability of the disease, they were trying to give her hope in vain. For the entire week, Niharika had shunned not only from the virtual world, but also from the real people around her. She hardly talked to her boyfriend who had called and messaged her many times.
“I want to go away from this,” said Niharika one day to her parents. “I couldn’t muster enough courage to confront them.”
“Calm down, my love,” her mother tried to console her in vain. “Your dad and I were thinking about it. You can go to your dad’s native village at Nako in Himachal Pradesh. Your grandparents are there to take care of you.”
She agreed without any hesitation. This city and its people seemed like bad clowns, wanting to judge and laugh at her for something over which she didn’t have any control. The entire fact of losing her wheatish complexion and turning white was dreadful and bone-chilling. She wanted to run away from them once and for all.
A house with a sloping roof with other houses was straddled in the mountains overlooking a serene lake. It was peaceful and spellbound. Niharika got used to her new life in this small village with her grandparents. Vitiligo had spread completely over her body in the past three months. Her hair turned white from jet black.
Niharika came out of the house and walked straight on the road that went across the village. Though the disease took over her completely, she had stability and calmness in her countenance. Some children, who were playing outside, stared at her curiously while some were whispering behind her. Initially, these stares and whispers had mattered a lot to her, and she could run away faraway, in the solitude of her house. But now she smiled at them and moved on her trail. She reached the decrepit, secluded building which was her dance tuition centre for the last one month. Some adults, after watching her dance at a village function, had approached her to teach their children. She had agreed as she didn’t have much to do. Since she left the city three months ago, she didn’t make any contact with her social media team which might be dismantled by now, and her boyfriend who might have a new girlfriend.
Accepting her life as it was, these remarks, stares, and whispers didn’t bother her very much now. While looking at her reflection in the lake at the centre of the village, she thought: Give me the courage to accept things that I can’t change. Sometimes, life snatches the most important thing from you. You don’t have much choice but to fight. I can’t run anymore from my fears. Dance is my passion and I will continue despite people accept me or not.
She took the decision that she would go to the city.
A week later, Niharika’s parents came to take her back. She had apprehension about what they all would think or say about it. But she was ready to face all of them. They boarded the train from Shimla railway station and reached the New Delhi railway station the next day and finally their home.
Once Akshita and the entire team got word of her arrival, they went to meet her in the house. She hesitated to walked out in front of them for a moment; however, she kept his breath steady and nerves calm. As she came out into the living room where all of them were sitting, she could sense the stares of curiosity, surprise, and awe. She kept her thoughts contained unless her emotions would overpower her balance.
“You didn’t need to hide from us,” Akshita said as she stood up and hugged Niharika tightly. “More than anything, we’re your friends of all seasons. You can count on us. We love you as you are.” Each of them nodded with every word of Akshita.
“Thanks for it,” said Niharika, full of emotions, “But my career is ruined now. My followers will leave as soon as they get to know that I am not as pretty as I was. Beauty is everything in the virtual world, you know that.” Niharika had a smile of acceptance and solace.
“Don’t be an idiot. You got followers because of your dance, and they will be with you for your dance. Let’s keep everything behind and start again. Hope you don’t forget your steps.” Akshita and Niharika chuckled.
“Are you serious?”
“I’m damn serious, girl.”
For the next three weeks, the entire team was engaged in planning, framing, practicing, and shooting the video. All of them were working in different places now, but they came for this project in unity with Niharika. Finally, the task was done. She only needed to upload it on her account which would be the first post after a gap of three months.
“Remember,” exhorted Akshita to Niharika before uploading the video. “Fake followers will leave immediately. Don’t take it too hard. Accepting is the hardest part and you’ve already done it. Let them go for they are worthless. Real followers will stay.”
The video was uploaded on Instagram and Facebook at midnight. Niharika didn’t dare to look for reactions, so she slept. The next morning, as she logged her IDs on her iPhone after a long period, it began showing a deep dive of followers to 200k from 300k on Instagram and some derogatory comments. Some were spamming and trolling for fun, calling to leave the platform to using terms like an ugly and white witch. It was painful and sad. She was about to close down when one comment attracted and touched her profoundly.
“You’re inspiring, ma’am. Keep it up. One day I wish to meet you and learn some dance steps.”
She stood up, looked at herself in the wall mirror, and smiled.
THE END
More Stories:-
