She was like a house sparrow, brown and tiny-eyed – unremarkable and plain. Or so she thought! Every time she looked at the mirror, she would see her lanky body, unappealing and bony. Nothing she wore suited her. Her friends bought new clothes as if they were buying vegetables – on a daily basis.

“What is wrong with you, Sunita? You look beautiful in blue!” Simran, her best friend had an exasperated expression on her face. “You have the height to carry off any outfit, unlike me.” She pouted at herself in the mirror. Sunita thought she looked adorable. Simran was petite and pretty. When the two of them walked together, all eyes would envelop her. Sunita felt like an extra fitting. No one gave her a second look. 

As a result, Sunita had built an invisible shield around her, one that would shield her from hurtful comments and sardonic glances. Every time, she received a compliment for her looks, she would shrug it away, believing that she was being mocked at. All her life, she had had friends who tried to break through her defences, but finally gave up the struggle.

Sunita was a brilliant student. She was also hard working. The combination was devastating. It was as if she was an automaton who could drink in information at the drop of a hat. Here, she accepted all the compliments she received, aware that she deserved them. She was often sent to represent her college at various fests, both literary and scientific, and she would come back bearing laurels. At these times, her face would widen in a grin, and she would feel happy while the euphoria lasted.

Simran also had a gang of friends who doted on her. Prarthana and Diana were her two close friends. Unfortunately, they did not get along with Sunita… hardly anyone ever did. 

“How on earth do you stand her? She’s like a machine!” Prarthana complained about Sunita.

Simran smiled prettily.

“Oh, she’s not that bad. She is quite nice when you get to know her, you know?”

“Under all those layers of complexes and grumpiness? Good luck! You can keep her forever. I doubt anyone will want to wade through all that to find out if she has a nice side to her,” chortled Diana.

The boys in college were in awe of Sunita. Maybe it was her height. She was taller than many of them. Her attitude too was intimidating. She would glare at any boy who tried to approach her, and if one did get close enough to speak to her, she would blow him off with a glare that she could have taken out of a refrigerator.

It was in her second year of college that Vikram Singh strolled into her life. He had completed his graduation in a prestigious institution in Mumbai and had come to Bangalore to do his post-graduation in her college. 

No one would ever forget their first glimpse of Vikram aka Vicky Singh. He got out of an auto, wearing torn jeans and a ratty T shirt. He had a healthy mop of hair, and he towered over the other boys. He sauntered into the college office and promptly dove into the admission process.

As the bell rang, students came rushing out of the classes. It was break time.

Vicky had finished the admission and moved onto the ground, where there were students milling about, talking raucously. The canteen was crowded to the hilt. Vicky went towards it, and gazed at the menu for the day. Dosas, chutney and sambar seemed the obvious choice.

“Do you have chapatis and some curry?” he asked a man who was ladling up sambar into a steel bucket. The man gave him a glance and pointed to the menu on the wall.

“Do you see chapatis written there?” he asked wryly.

Vicky shook his head.

“Exactly!”

Vicky smiled sheepishly. He pointed to the menu.

“I’ll have the dosa with all its accompaniments.”

Once he was done, Vicky made his way to his class. There was a crowd inside the lecture hall. As he walked in, all eyes were on him. The girls tittered, and the boys stared at his torn jeans. 

“Obviously, the chap can’t afford proper clothes. Maybe he is a scholarship student.”

Vicky heard the stage whisper and grinned at the speaker.

“No such luck! I do not have the grey matter for that.”

The boys who heard the remark smiled. The new boy seemed all right. At least he had a sense of humour.

The girls kept ogling him, all except Sunita who was busy scribbling something in a notebook. Vicky’s eyes fell on her, because even while seated, she towered over all the other girls. The lecturer rushed in, aware that she was late by ten minutes. She was apologetic and took a deep breath before she began her lecture. She saw Vicky and beckoned to him. 

“Please do introduce yourself,” she said, grateful to have a few more minutes to further catch her breath.

Vicky stood, gazing at the sea of faces before him. He was not the nervous sort, but he needed to collect his thoughts first.

“Hi, friends, I am Vikram Singh aka Vicky. I hail from Mumbai. My parents wanted me to study in this college, so here I am. I look forward to getting to know you all.”

Sunita suddenly realised that there was someone addressing the class. She looked at Vicky curiously. He was taller than her, and there was an endearing smile on his face. As she gazed at him, taking in his striking good looks, Vicky suddenly turned his eyes on her and smiled. She blushed and quickly looked down. Vicky was intrigued. The other girls in class were desperately trying to catch his eye. Here was a girl who seemed a bit of an anachronism. 

Vicky soon settled down, both in college and in his hostel. He had the ability to make friends easily and his pleasant nature and sense of humour made him much sought after. His torn jeans were his trademark, despite the professors getting after him. However, since he was super intelligent and a born leader, they let him be after the first few warnings. Most of the girls twisted themselves into knots, trying to catch his eye, and he was charming to them all. All the girls except Sunita, on whom, his charm cut no ice.

“Hi, how are you today?” he asked breezily one day as he bumped into her on the corridor. “We are in the same class, you know?”

“Yes, I know,” she replied, turning away before he could add anything more.

“Vicky, leave her alone. She is like a touch-me-not plant,” his friends advised him. “She has not more than one close friend, even in class. Frankly, there is something strange about her.”

That only spurred him on further. She had to notice him! He resorted to every stunt that he could think of. On Valentine’s Day, when all the girls were blushing prettily at the red roses and gifts they received, Vicky held out a box of chocolates and a teddy bear to Sunita.

“I’m not a child!” she snapped, in plain view of his entire gang. The next moment she strode off, her back ramrod stiff, her disapproval clear.

Vicky was disheartened. He swore to find out what was going on with her. She had no interest in playing up her looks, wearing drab clothes that did nothing for her. Her large eyes had not a trace of kajal or eyeliner, and yet, there was something strangely magnetic about them.

Vicky continued his efforts. Finally, he was on the verge of giving up, as she paid no attention to anything he did or said, but gazed at him with disinterest. One evening, his ego badly bruised, he sat on a bench outside the college when he saw Simran, Sunita’s friend, coming along.

“Hi, Vicky, why do you look like a squirrel that has lost all its nuts?” she asked, with a smile. She was aware of his efforts with Sunita, but she was not going to discuss it, unless he brought the topic up. Which he promptly did!

“What is wrong with that pig-headed friend of yours?” he asked snappishly.

“Which one?” she joked, and then relented. “You mean, Sunita? Well, she is a bit of a prickly pear.”

“Yes, I have tried to be friends with her. However, she refuses to even talk to me.” Vicky sounded despondent.

Simran knew how much he was trying. She decided that it was time to take matters inti her own hands.

“Vicky, Sunita has issues that stem from her childhood. She was around seven when her paternal aunt, a lady she looked up to immensely, for her impeccable clothes and for her class, rebuked her when the little girl came running in after playing. She was dishevelled and her hair was all over the place. Her aunt took one disgusted look at her, and rebuked her.

‘Look at yourself, child! You are so clumsy, so big made. Your clothes are hideous. Why doesn’t your mother try to spruce you up?’ She held her nose and continued,

‘You stink as well. Go and bathe at once.’
The little girl was heartbroken. She, who had always wanted to be like her aunt, had no idea why she was being targeted in this manner. The cruel words sank deep into her heart. She ran inside, tears streaming down her face, and from that moment onwards, she retreated into a shell. She began wearing outsized clothes, often hiding her body with a large scarf. The normally chatty little girl seemed to have lost her voice, and no one was aware why. 

What was even more painful is that the girl stopped looking at herself in the mirror. She would take a quick, painful peek, and cringe at herself. She would often go out of the house without make up or even kajal.

Years later, when she was a teenager, Sunita met her aunt, who was back after a foreign trip, as stylish as ever. When the woman began to say something to her, her sharp eyes sparkling, Sunita cut her short.

“Stop, Aunt. There is nothing that I need to hear from you. I once adored you, but you tore my dreams down so cruelly that I need nothing more from you. You are the reason why I look the way I do!” So saying, she flounced out, leaving a stunned lot of people behind her.

Sunita’s mother stood up, towering over her sister-in-law. She held her by her slender shoulders, and glared into her eyes.

“Do you even know the agony your brother and I have been through, wondering why our cheerful daughter suddenly, one fine day, changed into a sullen person, with no interest in her looks or clothes, or anything a normal girl would like? What on earth did you say to her to make her change so drastically?” Tears streamed down her eyes as she pushed the other away.

Sunita’s father sat, his eyes downcast. Suddenly he stood up and slapped his sister hard.

“This is for the damage you have done to our child. I am ashamed to call you my sister. You, who should have been like a second mother to her, brought her self-esteem down so badly that we could not recognise our beautiful child. She cannot even look at herself in the mirror.”

He stared her down as she looked at him in defiance. She said,

“Brother, I said those things for her own good. She was going through an awkward stage and looked like an ugly duckling. I wanted her to change for the better. I did nothing wrong.”

Her defiance fired his ire further.

“Get out of my house. I do not want to see you ever again. The day my daughter becomes herself, I may think of seeing your face again. Till then, get out.”

His voice boomed across the room and reached Sunita’s ears. She could not believe that her aunt was being ticked off for what she had done to her. She burst into a storm of weeping. Her parents came into her room and wept along with her.

“My darling girl, forgive us. We had no idea.”
“My sister is a heartless woman. Please put what she said out of your mind. You are the apple of our eye. What she told you was so far from the truth. Can we please make things right again?”

Sunita nodded. She knew that it would take years for her to undo the damage. Maybe she would have to go for counselling. However, her heart broke to see her parents suffering. It was as if the revelation had broken them as well.

The counsellor spoke to her along with her parents.

“What you are going through is Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD). When you look at the mirror, you see an ugly version of yourself, one that does not exist. You feel ashamed of the way you look, of your body. Isn’t that so?”

Sunita nodded in silence. Over the years, she had perceived herself as hideous. She said reluctantly,

“Doctor, all I know is that I hate my appearance, my looks!”

The doctor smiled. 

“The first thing we must change is your perception of yourself. This issue stems from bullying or teasing at a tender age. When your mind is disturbed, you develop feelings of inadequacy and shame, along with a fear of being ridiculed.” She paused, and then continued. “I will put you on a course of cognitive behavioural therapy. It will take time, but I promise you that you will feel better after.”

Simran, who was Sunita’s best friend, and probably her only one, put all this in a nutshell for Vicky’s benefit. He was distressed at the trauma Sunita had gone through. He had never heard of body dysmorphia, and it shocked him deeply. 

“Is there anything I can do for her, Simran?” he asked.

“Keep trying to be her friend. Now that she is being counselled, she may look upon you kindly. Just keep at it.”

From that day onwards, Vicky would make sure that he spoke to Sunita whenever he saw her. At first, she was standoffish, but slowly she realised that he was harmless, and began warming towards him. His friends teased him mercilessly, but he did not heed them, and slowly, they backed off, rather impressed by his dedication. They termed his efforts ‘Operation Sunita’.

After months of counselling and behavioural therapy, Sunita began to look into the mirror, timidly at first. Simran went shopping with her for new clothes. Sunita’s parents had told her that cost was not a factor.

“Simran, we want our daughter back, please. We are depending on you.”

Simran nodded. It was a mission for her as well. Sunita was at least amenable to buying clothes that were well suited to her. Simran made her throw away all her oversized dressed. Slowly, the girl began to blossom out, and people began to remark on the change in her. Boys noticed her, and complimented her on her looks. Sunita began smiling more and she allowed her photographs to be taken, something which she had shunned earlier. 

Vicky and Simran spent much of their time with the girl, who had begun looking into the mirror with more confidence. One day, a mail came for her from an ad agency.

“Dear Ms. Sunita, we are bringing out a special advertisement on silver jewellery and we would like you to be our model for the same. We loved the photographs that you had sent and feel that you will be perfect for our product.

Looking forward to a positive response…”

Sunita read the mail, bewildered.

“I think they have got the wrong Sunita. I never sent any agency my photographs,” she remarked.

She suddenly caught Vicky and Simran smiling at each other slyly.

“What have you both gone and done?” she demanded.

“Nothing. We only sent a couple of photographs to them. Obviously, they loved the way you look.”

Sunita shook her head. She was not willing to put herself out there. It was too soon for her, and she hated being in the public eye.

Her friends took a week to wear her down. Finally, she agreed to meet the agency heads.

“However, I will not model for them or anything,” she insisted.

“That’s fine. Let’s just go and meet them.” Vicky was at his persuasive best.

They went; the agency heads were even more persuasive. They had blown up the two photographs that her friends had sent them. Sunita was red in the face, but even she had to admit that the photographs did her justice. Finally, she nodded, and her friends were ecstatic.

When the advertisement was aired in theatres and on television, the public loved her. Overnight, she received many offers for various campaigns. Her face stared out of magazines, and the world raved about her stunning looks. 

Vicky never stopped trying to woo her. He was aware that the day she open-heartedly accepted the truth within her mirror, she would be his.