|Home | Issues | The Daily Star Home | Volume 4, Issue 1, Tuesday January 9, 2007|
The perfect way to get rid of a tan at home is listed below. It may not have an instant result like fair polish but this will definitely help over time.
Use the following pack everyday on the face and body.
1 tbsp yoghurt
I am an avid reader of your column. I am writing about my 16 year old daughter who is starting to have sagging breasts. Would a firming gel work? Please recommend. Also her hair was beautiful and glossy but after using L'Oreal volume shampoo it lost it's glossy feel. What should I do?
Dear Mrs. Gomez,
Has your daughter suddenly lost weight? Drastic weight loss could be the cause of the change in quality of hair as well as the sagging. Please make sure that she wears well-fitted and supportive bras. I don't know whether the firming gels would work, but you can give it a try. Try the following exercise.
Interpreter Of Maladies
Dr. Nighat Ara, Psychiatrist, Counsellor and Therapist
Childhood sexual abuse, particularly incest is a very challenging subject and there is a special therapy to help people recover from it (of actual help at appropriate time). I just want to tell you that you are not alone. Countless women are struggling with this problem all over the world. You are a survivor; don't see yourself as a victim. You managed the situation the best way you could and should take pride in that. Unfortunately, your boyfriend chose to do something that has triggered the past in you and now you are feeling overwhelmed by it.
Remember, now you are an adult and are no longer powerless. You can get back control over life if you are not running away from it. Don't take responsibility of another person's misdeeds; don't take his shame on you. Get out of this relationship or put him in a closet (mentally) for the time being, whichever is easier for you at the moment.
Just focus on your life and on loving yourself. If you can't love yourself, it is impossible to love another person. Work on your positive qualities to boost your self-esteem and lead a productive life. The best way you can win in this situation is by loving yourself and taking the control back from these abusers.
I'm glad that you have broken the silence; this is the first step in the healing process. Instead of rushing into another relationship, it is better to look for support from friends and family. I'm not sure if any counsellor /psychologist/psychiatrist in Bangladesh works on childhood sexual trauma. If you are suffering from flashbacks from time to time, bring yourself to the present by using some grounding techniques (focusing on what are you seeing, what are you hearing, etc. five senses grounding technique). Talk to a professional and find out if anybody can help you with more practical tools at this time. Good Luck!
Under a different sky
By Iffat Nawaz
Because you can't pronounce my name
My nose ring, my favourite ornament, always draws me the attention I secretly seek. It's the shape of a little flower in gold, very Bengali and therefore very unique in the land of studs and sterlings. I realise I have worn my face differently ever since I acquired it, not making a statement but I am more confident of the nose I was highly conscious of almost all my life since I broke it at age four jumping down my grand mother's high and steep old town stairs.
And people know, and they define me, a part of me, by it. Like they define others with highlights in blonde hair or a choice of deep red lipstick. Because I never think too deeply about the consequences of my actions I didn't think about the future outcomes of my nose piercing; how the smallest hole on my face could change me- just a little bit.
He smiled big at me the other day. I hadn't met him yet, he works in another department and we barely cross paths but he came around that day and stood at my door. He was dark with grey hair; a humble face with an awkward smile. He asked “From India?” I answered “Bangladesh actually.” “OOO” he said, “same thing,” and he walked into my office and sat down before I could deny his claim that India and Bangladesh were NOT the same thing. He sat and he talked, asked me the million and half questions that desis ask each other during every first meeting, most of them are too personal and strange and I guess what some of us would call very un-American. He spoke about himself too, his name, Krishna, but shortened to Kris so that “Americans” could pronounce it. A compromise to fit in he said-changing a name that defines his roots.
He spoke of his three daughters, the youngest one is probably my age, all have been married off, they grew up here and I imagined they weren't very different from me. I asked since I thought I had gained the right to ask something personal after answering so many personal questions, how old his daughters were. He mentioned their ages and mentioned how he made sure to have arranged marriages for all of them as soon as they reached 22. A sense of deep pride played around his face, he said “you know God gave me three daughters, THREE DAUGHTERS. My whole life I worried, but finally I am free.” and I didn't know what to say. A person who compromised enough to change a thing as important as his name has not yet changed anything inside. Living here year after year still believing in standards his ancestors set for right and wrong, and with his standards he judges, everyday, with his new name and old soul, judging nose rings and blonde highlights.
And then I met her. She doesn't smile as much. Her fair Indian skin still glows in her last 50s like a teenage girl. Over making afternoon tea she asked “So you drink tea? I couldn't convert to coffee either, it's our brown blood” and she smiled. “Brown blood” was a phrase I never heard being used so I smiled at her humour. She started talking, also from South Asia, follower of a predominant South Asian faith and she was very happy to know so was I. But then she stared at my nose ring and asked me, “So that is not a religious thing right?” I answered saying no it was just a Bengali thing, it doesn't mean anything but that I like it. I asked her if she ever thought about getting one, and with that question she almost jumped “No no no, why would I pierce my nose, it's a matter of religion, people don't just dig a hole as a fashion statement where I come from.” Unexpected, awkward, fascinated, I smiled and then there really wasn't much to say. We tried talking about South Asian food for a while but then we gave up and returned to our own corners, I touched my nose ring and she sat pretty, glowing like all gold does.
There are moments when one questions where we went wrong and where right and what happened when we didn't want to choose or think. The religion I followed while being raised still remains a part of me, through my name, through the God I call out to when I seek. The culture that produced me still flows through my veins through the songs I sing, through the language of my dreams. But me and my nose ring, we stand separate, without definition and labels, while we see the world through your eyes.
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