‘I am a pretty little dutch girl As pretty as I can be, be, be, And all the boys in the baseball team Go crazy over me, me, me’

I can’t exactly recall whether it was Nursery rhymes, Kinter garden poems or lullabies which delineated the meaning of BEAUTIFUL for us. Actually, let’s admit that we all are obscure about the true meaning of Beautiful. Oxford defines it as ‘Pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically’ but then again, nobody ever defined the meaning of ‘pleasing our senses’

Red roses can please you. Burnt body can please me. Even boys from the baseball team goes head over heels for that pretty little dutch girl. May be because they found her ‘pleasing’. Okay let’s not beat around the bush and keep it simple. Why is it that a big fat girl does not please anybody? Oh! I quoted about a girl unknowingly. May be because of my primary lessons that ‘beautiful’ is only associated with females. Its strange how we keep following the reciprocated notions without ever giving it a second thought. A tall, fair and lean girl with long hair has always been our epitome of the word ‘Beautiful’, which automatically depresses a fat, short girl with a darker complexion sitting right next to her. From those matrimonial requirements to those pre-requisite for being a model. I still wonder who said that only a 5’8″ could do a ramp walk. I have always been around girls since childhood, the journey did not helped me much except possessing a huge mountain of trendy dresses and accessories which is still piled up in my wardrobe. Everyday, when I wake up I stand for hours in front of that ‘pretty’ mountain and makes my mind to compete with those ‘beautiful’ girls around me in my college but then my pity body reminds me of those tyres around my belly and those chocolates which I have been eating since childhood which now have piled up on my lower body and finally I end up taking out my black jagging and full sleeves top which covers my whole body from neck to toe because science says that we look slimmer in black, about which I still wonder. May be, I could be beautiful just like those girls but that demands a lot. Spending hours with those complex machines and shedding my sweat. Taking out each of those god gifted black creations on my skin which helps me to keep warm in winters and in return giving me atrocious pain, already adding to those 5 deadly days of orgy of death and Indeed, sitting still for hours on those parlor chairs is not my cup of tea. Thank you to the Dove’s new advertisement after watching which popped an idea to write a piece. “Rosy lips and chubby cheeks” still echo loud in my cerebrum. The idea behind writing this piece was to foster each individual with utmost confidence. Feel good for yourself and challenge those typical societal ideas and definition of beautiful. An acid attack victim can be beautiful. An 80 year old paralyzed man can be beautiful. A little girl begging on the traffic lights can be beautiful. Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. I am beautiful. You are beautiful. Be You! BE-YOU-TIFUL.


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