How an acid attack survivor became a beauty vlogger, author

Seventeen-year-old Reshma Qureshi had a reason to feel anxious on May 19, 2014. She was set to appear for an exam she thought she wouldn't do well in. However, it turned out to be a day that'd change the course of her life. On her way to the examination centre in Allahabad, Reshma, her sister Gulshan and two of their friends were stopped by Gulshan's estranged husband Jamaluddin and a few men. Taking a bottle of sulphuric acid out, Jamaluddin tried pouring it on Gulshan, who held his hand. Gulshan then screamed at Reshma, asking her to run, but it was too late. Pinned down by two men, a bottle of sulphuric acid was emptied on Reshma's face.
Four-and-a-half years and several challenges - and triumphs - later, Reshma - now 22 - has penned a memoir (along with Tania Singh, CEO of the Indian non-profit Make Love Not Scars, of which Reshma is the face) that traces her journey from that day to becoming a successful beauty vlogger and model. Peppered with anecdotes, you would ordinarily expect the book to revolve around the challenges solely, but Being Reshma (published by Pan Macmillan) is refreshing in its refusal to let the incident define the very core of the survivor.
As we chat over phone, I ask what it must feel like to revisit the memory of that day. again and again through interviews such as this one. Reshma is anything but reluctant to talk about that moment. In fact, she believes that revisiting that episode can spread more awareness on acid attacks and give a template to survivors who hope to return to normalcy. Remembering that moment, she says she felt her face had ruined for life. There was also a deep-seated fear, "What if I committed suicide and my perpetrator came out of jail and attacked my family to cause further damage?" Overcoming this fear has been at the heart of Reshma's journey.
For co-author Tania, though, the most difficult part of reliving Reshma's journey through the writing has been the stark difference in their experiences. The reason she joined Make Love Not Scars, says Tania, was that as a 22-year-old studying in Singapore, she had been in a fire accident. "I was treated at the best hospital in Asia for burn injuries. I had a 24-hour team around me when I only had 5 per cent burns, whereas acid attack survivors have 75-80 per cent burns. The medical negligence in Reshma's case was brutal."
The medical negligence documented in the book is alarming. Take note of this passage, for instance, where she describes her time at a hospital in Kolkata: "I waited downstairs in the seating area across from the registration booth. Even in the City of Dreams, healthcare was just the same, with the same bureaucratic formalities. A copy of the complaint was handed over along with my medical history. The burns ward was overflowing with patients and I had to wait for the authorities to organise a bed for me. I later found out that a patient had to be forcibly removed to make room for me. Beds were given on priority, and my case warranted priority. I didn't know where that patient went, but I could only guess - she would have been given a spot on the floor."
When Jamaluddin had sought to attack Gulshan, she'd held his hand, but the acid still burnt her arm. Today, looking back at that incident, Reshma feels grateful that it was she who was attacked instead of her sister, simply because she thinks the latter wouldn't have been able to survive this. "I am stronger than her. My family supported me through this; my sister has always been burdened with guilt. But I have always had that extra love and care, which helped me sail through," says Reshma.
In the aftermath of the attack, she also underwent a number of cosmetic surgeries. If there was anything more overwhelming than the physical pain of a cosmetic surgery, it was the emotional turmoil of having your body bruised further for that little bit of change on the face. "The pain was so bad that I would cry every time I entered an operation theatre," says Reshma. "I always wondered why it had to be me. I would howl and utter my father's name. The recovery process also meant more damage to my body - because they would take skin grafts from my leg and the outcome would just be that little bit of change."
It was while trying to find a purpose in life that Reshma discovered the world of makeup. She had always been interested in it; even prior to the acid attack, she would put on makeup every now and then. "After the attack, I started Beauty Tips By Reshma campaign, where I would give beauty tutorials that ended with a call of action demanding an end on sale of acids. There would be messages like - 'Finding the right shade of red lipstick is more difficult than finding a bottle of acid'," says Reshma. The campaign was an instant success. "Maybe makeup is not just makeup," she says, "It's a symbol for women to own up to who they are. I fell in love with it. I could do everything that other girls were doing."
Her confidence in that knowledge brought Reshma to the runway of the New York Fashion Week, where she walked the ramp amid much accolades - a moment that has remained etched in the family's collective memory.

Co-author Tania Singh
The applause hasn't come without criticism - most of which scrutinises whether her involvement in the world of fashion and beauty trivialises 'the cause'. Tania takes the question to address the larger societal non-acceptance of acid attack survivors. "When someone walks up to us with a question like that, we say they're only helping attackers succeed in their mission. We don't think it's trivialisation, rather, it highlights the issue. It's a reminder that despite the attack, the survivor has the right to be the best version of herself. Think about it, prior to their attacks, most survivors loved dressing up. Why should they no longer do that?"
In the media, however, it's not uncommon to have the faces of acid attack survivors blurred, citing unsuitability for public viewing. "Recently, I put up a photo of a survivor, and Facebook removed it, saying 'graphic content'. How can you call this 'graphic content'? Hasn't the attacker succeeded then? We shouldn't have to protect the world from acid attack survivors, it's they who need to be protected from the world," says Tania. She goes on to add that if a survivor wants to protect their identity, s/he should be open to do that. "You should be in a position of comfort in order to ask the journalist that you don't want your face to be revealed. But sometimes survivors themselves request, 'Please don't hide our faces, we are tired of hiding them anyway.' That's really the least you can do. But the first thing they do is blur the face. That's irresponsible and unethical because the message that you're sending out is that the survivor's face is too gruesome for you to see, so we will protect you."
As we wrap up the conversation, I ask Reshma if, over the years, the label of an 'acid attack survivor' has paled in comparison to other mantles - a successful vlogger, model and now an author. "I am a model, a vlogger and an author because I am an acid attack survivor," she signs off.
anamika@khaleejtimes.com