By: Ryan Khanna

“People don’t blame the British enough.”

I once encountered this remark in a YouTube comment section. At first glance, it sounded exaggerated. Yet when one reflects on India’s persistent obsession with fair skin, the comment begins to feel less absurd. After all, there must be a reason why a civilization that once celebrated darker complexions—revering its deities as “Shyama Sundaram” (श्यामसुन्दरम्), the beautiful dark one—now often treats the same complexion as something undesirable.

When a ruling class visibly differs from the population it governs, its physical features frequently become symbols of status and aspiration. Over time, fairness came to be associated with proximity to power, privilege, and authority. Colonial rule under the British Empire undoubtedly strengthened this association.

Yet attributing the problem entirely to colonial history is also a convenient escape.

The British left India more than seventy-five years ago. The obsession with fairness did not.

If colonialism planted the seed, modern India has continued to water it.

From Cultural Pride to Social Currency

Historically, Indian literature and mythology often revered darker complexions. Krishna, for instance, is repeatedly described in classical texts as dark and radiant. Ancient poetry, sculpture, and storytelling did not rigidly equate beauty with fairness in the way contemporary advertising and popular culture often do.

Yet modern portrayals frequently dilute these traditions. Mythological characters historically described as dark are commonly depicted by extremely fair-skinned actors in television serials and films. Gradually, visual culture has reshaped perceptions of beauty.

The idea for this reflection struck me when I noticed tubes of fairness cream—marketed today as “glow-enhancing” products—on the dressing table of an Instagram creator who could not have been more than eleven or twelve years old.

At that moment, it became clear how early these ideas are absorbed.

Today, fairness often functions as a form of social currency.

Education Has Not Ended the Bias

One might assume that education would dismantle such attitudes. Yet evidence suggests otherwise. Highly educated professionals—doctors, engineers, and academics—still publish matrimonial advertisements specifying a preference for a “fair-skinned” partner.

These are individuals who understand science, genetics, and the language of equality. Their choices reveal an uncomfortable truth: knowledge alone does not always change social behavior.

So why does this bias persist?

The answer lies less in ignorance and more in incentives.

The Rewards of Fairness

In subtle but powerful ways, fairness continues to be rewarded. Cinema often favors lighter complexions for leading roles. Matrimonial markets openly prioritize them. Everyday compliments frequently equate fairness with attractiveness.

When a society consistently rewards a particular trait, people learn—consciously or unconsciously—to value that trait.

Prejudice, in such cases, survives not because people believe it is morally right, but because it is socially advantageous.

The Internalization of Bias

Perhaps the most tragic aspect of colorism is that it is often reinforced not by outsiders, but by those who are themselves affected by it. Some of the harshest remarks about skin tone come from family members, relatives, and peers who share the same complexion.

In these moments, prejudice no longer requires an external oppressor. It survives because it has been internalized.

The hierarchy continues even after the ruler has disappeared.

A Small but Telling Incident

I recall an incident from a school function. Teachers were applying simple stage makeup to students preparing for a performance. Among them was a classmate—let us call him Dave.

The only thing that should matter about Dave is that he was my classmate.

But apparently something else mattered more: Dave had dark skin.

When his turn came, several casual jokes about his complexion circulated among students—fifteen-year-olds who had already absorbed society’s prejudices.

The most disturbing remark, however, came from a teacher. She said:

“When God creates someone, He always leaves one flaw so they don’t become too proud. For you, it was your dark skin.”

Notice the word flaw.

As if melanin were a defect.

As if dark skin were a mistake.

Yet perhaps the real flaw lies elsewhere—in a society that claims to have rejected colonial hierarchies while continuing to reward them.

Challenging the System That Sustains Colorism

If colorism is to be dismantled, slogans and moral lectures alone will not suffice. The structures that quietly sustain these attitudes must be confronted.

First, representation matters. When cinema, advertising, and media repeatedly present beauty through a narrow lens, they reinforce unrealistic standards. A more honest portrayal of India’s natural diversity—especially in a tropical country with abundant sunlight—could gradually reshape cultural perceptions.

Second, accountability must begin within families. Casual jokes about skin tone are often dismissed as harmless humor. In reality, they are one of the primary ways prejudice passes from one generation to the next. Challenging such remarks in everyday conversations can disrupt this cycle.

Third, society must examine the economic incentives that reward fairness. Matrimonial preferences, beauty standards in entertainment, and the marketing of skin-lightening products all reinforce the idea that lighter skin holds greater value. Unless these incentives change, the bias will continue to reproduce itself.

Redefining Beauty

Ultimately, the deeper solution may lie in rethinking how beauty itself is defined.

Beauty has never been an objective biological fact. It is a social agreement—one that cultures continually renegotiate. Standards admired today may appear strange or even absurd a century from now.

Recognizing this fluidity allows societies to question whether the ideals they chase are truly authentic or simply inherited from historical power structures.

Until such reflection becomes widespread, India will continue to embody a striking paradox:

A brown-skinned nation that still chases fairness.

About the Author

Ryan Khanna is a young student from Punjab, India, representing a generation navigating identity, ambition, and social change in an increasingly fast-paced world. Writing from the perspective of a young Indian trying to solidify his place in a competitive global landscape, Khanna reflects on social issues, cultural contradictions, and the evolving mindset of modern India. His work aims to provoke thoughtful dialogue while capturing the observations of youth witnessing a society in transition.