A few years ago, I experienced explicit colorism that made the normalization of fair-skin superiority in my community painfully clear. My mother was speaking with an acquaintance who saw some photos and asked, “Do you have twins?” My mother, puzzled, said no. The woman replied, “Oh, because she looks very different in this photo. My son is very fair.” While my mother sarcastically brushed off the comment, she didn’t confront the underlying bias, which unsettled me. Looking back, I realize that even those who are discriminated against often subscribe to the belief that their skin tone is a disadvantage —that they are worthy despite it, rather than recognizing that skin tone has no bearing on their worth.

But was Indian society always like this, or was there something about the collective experience through the ages that critically influenced the perceptions of Southeast Asian people?

Ancient India

Unlike what many assume, Ancient India was not a homogenous society. There were different groups, communities, and tribes, but what remained standard was the fact that skin color did not play a central role in social hierarchy. Similar to today, the physical features, including skin color, varied based on geographical location. Many who looked back at ancient texts misinterpreted and incorrectly translated ancient texts with darker skin tones and caste. Looking at the Rig Veda, caste wasn’t rigid and indicative of societal hierarchy by birth but rather a classification by occupation. Noble occupations naturally were less labor intensive, and lower status engaged in labor-intensive outdoor work. As a result, sometime in the following centuries, when Varna became rigid to form caste, those who were designated for intensive labor by birth naturally became darker skinned. Regardless, this distinction does not mean that dark-skinned people didn’t exist in the upper caste groups. 

Many ancient Hindu scriptures also clearly reference many dark-skinned individuals who held great respect in society. Rig Veda’s hero, Trasadasyu, was the dark-skinned leader of the Dasyus. Many deities, such as Ram, Vishnu, and Shiva, were described to have been dark-skinned. Lord Krishna, an incarnation of Lord Vishnu, whose name in Sanskrit also means black, was dark-skinned.  In the 8th or 9th century, a poet who surpassed many male stalwarts of her time quotes, “I am dark as a Neelkamal” i.e., Lord Shiva’s color.  In Ancient Indian texts and religious epics, dark-skinned heroes and deities. Women were considered desirable and beautiful based on their intellect and features, many of whom are described to have dark skin, but this description was not mentioned as a shortcoming. Draupadi, who played a pivotal role in the epic Mahabharata, is recognized for her personality. She was described as black and extremely beautiful. It is sufficient to say that Ancient India did not discriminate based on color. While the reasons for the change are unclear, some notable influences are traced to the changes in power after the 1400s, when India, at least in the northern parts, was ruled by Afghani and Persian rulers, who were comparatively lighter-skinned than the Indian population.

External Influences and Colonialism 

India has experienced multiple invasions, including by the Greeks, Persians, Mughals, Turks, and Arabs. Muslim rulers dominated India—particularly Delhi and the northern regions—for nearly 500 years (1200-1700s). While there’s no evidence that the ruling class explicitly practiced prejudice based on skin tone, rulers from the Arabic and Persian regions generally had fairer skin than most of the Indian population. British colonialism followed, leaving the most significant impact. 

Colonialism 

We cannot compare the colonial experiences of Black and Asian people, as they are distinct. However, the internalized perceptions of beauty and worth within colonized and enslaved communities remain deeply tied to the colonial experience. Colonialism has a way of altering how the colonized see themselves.

In India, at the outset, the British employed a racial superiority rhetoric to justify their rule. This was not different from their strategy in slave-owning colonial societies in the Caribbean, and the United States operated on the myth of white racial purity. Colonial administrators and proponents of “Race Science” such as ethnographer HH Risley, classified castes based on skin color and other physical features, forming a scale ranging from flushed ivory to dead black. To administer the large landscape and population, the colonial administration recruited Indians but preferred light-skinned Indians and designated menial work to those dark-skinned. The British favored light-skinned Indians and enforced segregation, which led people to associate lighter skin tones with power and status. The ruler was white, and as far as many could remember, rulers had always been white, which left a lasting impression. “The very fact that you were being ruled by pale-skinned people meant they were superior to the natives—you looked up to the white man.” People began revering and respecting fair-skinned individuals, who also received preference for government jobs during colonial rule. This fostered an internalized belief in the superiority of fair skin. 

Shift in Societal Standards and Perceptions 

The underlying reasoning behind the standard of beauty and perceptions of worth in post-colonial societies stems from status, superiority, power, and acceptability. Colonial rulers cemented colorism within native populations by creating systemic divisions through the differential treatment of lighter-skinned and darker-skinned individuals. This discriminatory treatment led to a perception that lighter skin was associated with higher status and better opportunities. Over time, these divisions profoundly affected the psyche of the majority, as the imposed hierarchy caused people to view lighter-skinned individuals as superior and became a standard in the community. Those who were once seen as equals were now “othered.” 

In India, this was particularly difficult because of the attachment of those dark-skinned with lower caste and lower socio-economic status. The restrictive caste system made social mobility particularly difficult, and the color bias made it almost impossible to achieve complete acceptance from one’s community, influential Indians, and the white colonizers. Statements such as “he is not good-looking (dark) but is very smart” or “he/she is dark but beautiful” would keep complete acceptance and respect at arm’s length. Dark-skinned individuals were marginalized due to assumptions of poverty and inferiority, and even when disproven, internalized biases reinforced the belief that lighter skin was superior, leading to a mindset of compensating for skin color rather than embracing it as inherently valuable.

Lasting Impact 

While only a minority treated black and brown-skinned people with outright contempt, many showed kindness, though often with an underlying sense of pity. The real impact of colorism was more subtle, operating through unconscious biases that shaped people’s views. Much of this discrimination occurred within families, where children were taught to see darker skin as less desirable. A light-skinned child would typically receive more affection, sweets, and praise, while a darker-skinned sibling or cousin was often given less preference and, in some cases, even scolded or insulted by elders. In sibling fights, insults like “fatty” might be met with a retort of “blackie,” reinforcing the idea that dark skin was a handicap, something undesirable or inferior. Parents would stop their children from playing outdoors to prevent tanning.

Parents would often pray for a child to be born “fair,” and if dark skin was inevitable, they preferred it on boys, while girls were expected to be fair-skinned. The intersection of gender and skin color made being a dark-skinned woman a severe disadvantage in the marriage market. This pressure led many parents to force their daughters to undergo various home remedies, diets, and cosmetic procedures to lighten their skin. Parents also feared that marrying off a dark-skinned daughter would require a higher dowry, further compounding the bias against darker-skinned women.

These practices and perceptions gave rise to the “fairness industry,” a monster that managed to cut across class and caste boundaries. Women from all strata of society turned to fairness creams, most notably the infamous “Fair and Lovely.” Commercials for these products often depicted a sad, underconfident, fair-skinned model or actress made to look dark, only to use Fair and Lovely and transform into a confident, fair-skinned woman suddenly showered with admiration and success.

Reinforcement through Media 

Cinema

Bollywood has long perpetuated the colonial hangover that equates fair skin with desirability. Songs like Chittiyan Kalaiyan and Gori Gori synonymize fairness with beauty, while dark-skinned characters are marginalized or portrayed by lighter-skinned actresses in “brown face.” In the South Indian film industry, fair-skinned North Indian women and even white foreigners are often cast as ethnically Indian characters, a clear reflection of the colonial mindset where light skin is still seen as superior. Movies like Mimi further reinforce this bias, with characters admiring a “gora” baby as the pinnacle of beauty, making it clear that the colonial legacy of associating whiteness with worth remains deeply entrenched. 

Books and Comics 

The colonial hangover made comics adopt narratives and visuals that were utterly distorted.  The perception of skin color had become so pervasive that traditionally, dark-skinned deities were often depicted as white or blue, while black skin was reserved for Asuras (demons). In popular imagery, Rama and Krishna—both originally dark-skinned—were shown in lighter tones, often light blue, instead of the traditional blue with dark undertones. Ravi Varma’s paintings, which adorned the homes of many middle-class Indians, rarely portrayed dark-skinned women as beautiful. Instead, the women were depicted as fair-skinned, or what Indians came to call “peach.” In contrast, dark skin was typically associated with negativity, as Asuras and villains were consistently painted black. 

Call for Change

The Black Lives Matter movement sparked introspection and a reckoning with the double standards within Indian society. Under pressure, Unilever rebranded Fair and Lovely as “Glow and Lovely,” products promoting fairness were renamed “brightness” creams. This shift also saw darker-skinned actresses celebrated and avoided promoting fairness as the ultimate standard of beauty. Powerful corporations and individuals now consciously try to be inclusive and establish anti-discrimination policies.

Problems 

Even with these changes, the problem persists. While the language has shifted, and there are conscious efforts to be more inclusive, these changes still operate within a broader context of entrenched beauty standards and perceptions of self-worth. Matrimonial websites still list skin tone as a field in profiles and partner preferences. Actresses who claim to represent darker-skinned women still resort to “brown face” in movies and shows. And when darker-skinned women are represented, they are often lighter-skinned among dark women. For most of the Indian population, this creates a disconnect—raising the question: how can they identify with on-screen characters when even the supposed “dark-skinned” representations are far lighter than the general population? Indians still fawn over white foreigners visiting the country, awe-struck and gawking at them. 

Conclusion 

It is presumptuous to assume that colorism in post-colonial societies is solely the result of colonialism—countries like Korea, without a colonial past, also show a preference for lighter skin. Yet, it would be ignorant to dismiss colonialism’s role. Imperialism planted the seeds of colorism, and colonialism cemented it, linking dark skin with lower caste and lower economic status. This bias is perpetuated by post-colonial societies, creating an internalized inferiority complex that spans generations.

The colonial legacy persists, with media and the beauty industry distorting perceptions of worth and beauty. While recent awareness has led to more cautious language, tokenism has replaced explicit insults. Only by breaking the cycle of intergenerational conditioning can we finally move forward—toward a future where our worth is no longer chained to the oppressive and baseless standards of skin color. This is the path to reclaiming a sense of value rooted in embracing who we are and what we bring to the world.

References

Beauty and the Bleach: the Colonial History of Colourism explored in BBC documentary, 2022.

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India and Colorism: The Finer Nuances, 2015.

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Colorism in the Indian subcontinent—insights through situated affectivity, 2023.

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Black Lives Matter Gets Indians Talking About Skin Lightening And Colorism, 2020.

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The Inherent Racism, Colourism, and Ableism in Amar Chitra Katha, 2024.

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Unilever renames Fair & Lovely skin cream after backlash, 2020.

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