‘A minimum of 155 cm’
Well, I’m not 155. I’m shorter. Now, I’m not eligible to go for one of the most fantasized jobs. It’s not the first time that I’ve failed the eligibility criteria because of my height.
So, I was reading this latest job notification by an airline which had quite a long list of 11–12 requirements. By the time, I reached point 11, I was already excited because all the conditions were fulfilled and as I was about to click on the registration link, the 12th point read, ‘Height: A minimum of 155 cm’. Boom! I was no more eligible. I felt shattered. The world turned upside down for me. This wasn’t my first encounter with such a situation. Even then I was not able to think clearly. Somehow, that time passed.
How had it started?
When I got my first period, I was around 145 cm. People would often tell me about developing growth hormones and how my height could get affected. In class 8 science book, there was a formula by which we could predict our probable future height. I calculated it and got extremely tensed. It said 157 cm. I felt the chill going down my spine. Of course, I wanted to be even taller. Well, that too passed.
I remember another incident. I was in class 10. Once my aunt bantered, ‘You won’t grow any taller now. You’ll have to learn to wear heels.’ I casually said, ‘If not any taller, be it so. But I will not wear heels. If short, then short it is. People, if willing, will feel my presence anyway.’ Honestly, those words were real. And I can still recall patently that while saying those things to her, I was actually imagining myself, my shorter self, being respected. That’s how much optimistic I turned within a year. Maybe I was realistic.
In class 11, all those who weren’t much tall till class 10 were growing like giants. And I, short as usual, had already reached my saturation level. I wasn’t growing any taller. I was a little less than a reserve student until class 10. In class 11, I befriended many people. All those people were the new giants or was I still the little princess? Whatever! My friends started teasing me for my height. Truly, it was all fun. I never took them seriously. At my farewell, I had worn heels for the first time. That too, 4 inches in height! It somehow helped. I felt good. It was great to be taller. I remembered those words uttered by my aunt.
All this time, the joshing by my friends was constant. Things began to worsen when I also started feeling bad about it. Being surrounded by tall people, I started feeling because of my height. Why not? My best friend was the tallest girl of the class, and I was the shortest. It was no more fun. I was fighting with God and definitely with my own self. I used to curse and at the same time I used to pray to get a little of merely 2 inches and not more and that I would suffice myself with it. This is not how this universe works, right?
One day, I told this thing to a friend of mine. He is also tall. The way he tried to calm me down was extraordinarily satisfactory. He told me so many things and gave me so many examples, one of them caught my attention. Example of Sushma Swaraj. ‘How fiercely she speaks; how she, despite being short, is listened by the whole world; how she is escorted by the tallest of the guards.’ With all this, he was drawing similarities between me and her. As respectful and dignified as I felt, they were just another set of sweet words trying to cheer me up. For a short period of time, I felt good. Some time passed after that conversation, and I eventually came across her photo with her husband. After my research, I added another point to his reasoning. She, despite being short, had a very tall husband. That was quite ecstatic for me. I don’t know why, but it was.
As I went to college, I heard the same things again. ‘By her voice and bold spoken, we thought she must be tall.’ I let it be. By now, I had registered with myself that I won’t grow any taller. There again, I got tall friends.
This year only, I was looking at a job profile of defense services. To my disappointment, even there was a minimum requirement of height and my measurements failed to fulfil the eligibility. It was my second such encounter. My second failure well before I could step into it. It was devastating. Beyond words. It still affects.
One of my cousins is employed in airlines as cabin crew. I always fantasize her. She has her two-fold beauty. Both internal and external. Soon, I started fantasizing her job as well. Today, I saw a photo of a man where he was surrounded by air hostesses. They were of Indigo airlines. They all looked short. A thought popped up in my mind. My curiosity escalated. In no time I switched the tab and googled the eligibility criteria of cabin crew in Indigo in terms of height. To my yet another disappointment, ‘Height and Weight: A minimum of 155 cm, and weight proportionate to BMI’, the screen displayed.
With hopes still alive, I started looking for Japanese airlines assuming that they are short people, and I may fit somewhere. Calling it a day, I discontinued the search as they also kept the same conditions. And here I’m… crying my (next to meaningless) sorrows.
Over the years, I’ve got many compliments with just one ‘if’. ‘If’ I were a little taller! Then, I’m also given loads of lessons and advice on how to increase height. Also, I’ve got many encouraging messages and wishes for future endeavours. Nevertheless, what I see, and take is totally up to me. To each his own.
Till the time it is about my routine activities, I’m totally okay being short. Short people always remain cute. When I fail in fulfilling the minimum requirements of my desired jobs, I feel disgusted. These are the moments when I want to grow more. Grow taller. I know I can’t. No matter what I do, if there is any constant in my life, it is just my height. It’s going to be there forever. My forever constant. I started writing this piece in distress. As I’m about to finish it, I’m already feeling upright. All I need to do is cherish what I have, satisfy myself by looking at those who have the bare minimum and keep striving to achieve heights, not the literal one of course.
Everyone is taller than me. However, it nowhere implicates the fact that they’re actually tall. Height is also relative.
Just to mention, I don’t look at ‘very tall’ guys. I fulfil my insatiable eyes by looking at ‘tall’ guys.
P.S.: I wear heels. I wear wedge heels, to be precise. They’re my new comfort. Not for others, but because I feel good about myself.
P.P.S.: I’ve got hundreds of stories and incidents filled with motivation, compassion, teasing, bantering, even bullying at times, lessons, to share on this very topic, height! Better leave them for the time we meet.
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