You are beautiful…it’s true!
Life is full of ups and downs, but the graph of life doesn’t follow a discrete path. Instead it traces the path from the peaks to the trenches with as much agility as does the fluorescent green beam on a CRO, especially on the ones they have been using in all the electronics labs I’ve had the misfortune of attending. And just like that gizmo, life too is difficult to comprehend. So it doesn’t take me by surprise when sometimes I wake up to a day to find the spice zapped out of my life- a bland day like someone forgot to add that pinch of salt in my cup of tea. Yeah, I know I should have referred a cookery manual!
Let me drift into that tinsel world where everything is perfect, because around here things neither have been particularly commendable enough to brag about, nor does the average life of an ordinary girl evoke any intentions from even a cartoonist (Laxman’s common man has already stolen the cake. It’s a man’s world after all!), let alone scripting a documentary that people accidentally would end up watching due to a title that turns out to be a misnomer. But then I know the feeling of being the ultimate fantasy of a painter’s imagination, or so I would like to believe. It was one of those ‘is this me?’ reactions that most women on the celluloid claim to have asked when the anti-ageing cream worked wonders for them. That brings me to the point of ‘beauty’ and all the hype that surrounds it; about it being skin deep. What does that mean? Adorable pancreas?
When was the last time that you turned your face away from a good looking girl, refused to smell roses on the way, found the black and yellow cab more enticing than a sleek red sports car parked next to it, shooed a white yodel with a red ribbon around it’s neck just like you shooed a half-hungry street dog the other day, didn’t choose a black and silver cell phone because even a pink and brown looked as classy, thought of calories before devouring the dark bitter chocolate pastry liberally sprinkled with tiny little chocolate chips and aptly titled ‘Devil’s delight’? There’s no denying the fact that what looks beautiful may not always be so, but since when has that held us from appreciating it?
The thin filmed soap bubbles that split white light into the hues of the rainbow when blown out of the loop and then sail on the breeze, wandering aimlessly, up and down, a new kaleidoscopic pattern and a new reflection on every little twist…don’t they make our hearts light just like them or spread a smile across our grim faces when we see children chasing these little magical bits of happiness? Isn’t this beauty too? How about that pale peach gown you saw in the store that day and couldn’t stop dreaming about? And then your unruly peeping neighbor lands up for your own birthday party in that exquisite apparel looking like a square peg in a round hole! But that doesn’t stop you from complimenting the finesse of the garb unless you have a tooth for sour grapes. Had it not been for the connoisseurs of beauty, art in its variegated forms would have never taken birth because art is the result of the holy matrimony of beauty and aesthetics.
Beauty has the power of appealing to all senses. A beautiful melody, a beautiful scenery, a beautiful feel of the pashmina shawl, a beautiful scent of some rare perfume…how often we find ourselves using these terms. Lata Mangeshkar, Princess Diana, Mother Teresa are all beautiful because they epitomize the beauty that appeals to the ear, the one that appeals to the eyes and the beauty of human touch. If beauty were skin deep, how would you have ever known that it even existed? We talk about ‘beautiful’ sunny days that bring with them a fresh start to new ventures and rekindle that iota of hope and faith. We talk about ‘beautiful’ moments spent with loved ones that are more than a just a day gone by. We dream about a ‘beautiful’ holiday on exotic locations. We also wish to be noticed and complimented with a ‘you look beautiful’ when dressed for special occasions even though we may not be any Britney Spears material or anywhere close. We talk of ‘beautiful’ gestures of someone helping the blind lady cross the road although what just passed by was your last bus back home. Then there are those movies that don’t fit into the stereotypes of eyesores but are instead a unique masterpiece of music sheet and canvas on screen where ‘beauty’ comes alive.
The ‘beauty’ of a silhouette in the sunset, of an autumn carpet of ochre and red, of a fiery turbaned villager against the sandy dunes, of the roll of the wheels of a limousine at the tongue of a red carpet, of a bride tossing her bouquet, of a baby chuckling with twinkling eyes, of sailing on a larger than life yacht, of the shine of medals and badges on a proud soldiers chest, the sparkle of a solitaire, the austerity of the village folk, the poise of a ballet dancer…the book of life has ‘beauty’ in it. And that is where Life comes from!
