Standing Together

There are not many successful people in Hollywood that have intelligence accompanying their talent. Lupita Nyong'o is one of those rare people that is breathtakingly sophisticated, intelligent, and articulate with an old-world elegance and grace. Her every speech emphasizes how refined and truly beautiful she is.

Her speech on beauty has become quite popular on social media. And I wanted to record some of the beauty of her words here, especially since today is Women's Day. 

Her speech rings true to many women around the globe. Women in India still obsess over whitening their skin; attributing beauty, reducing and crushing it to just one ideal - white, pale skin.

It disappoints me that no matter what one's education, their professional ascent, the size of their house, their modernity in external appearances, their mind is still closed on this matter. Education surely helps one unlock the many doors and windows within one's mind, but not everyone chooses to do so. Such people, women being the majority of that group, still pass cruel judgments even on new-born babies and the color of their skin. 

In a country where there are still shameful commercials for skin-whitening creams that imply that a woman's skin color can crucially determine her future career, and her prospects for a decent husband and a happy life, there are millions of young girls and women that focus their thoughts and energy on a ridiculously silly endeavor towards external "beauty". And what is the ugly truth? It is us women, more often that not, that continue to perpetuate this nasty stereotype. 

The mother that rejects a woman for her son because she is not fair-skinned.

The grandmother that is disappointed in her grandchild for not being fair-skinned.

The woman on TV telling you to buy skin-lightening creams to look like her.

The fashionista that tells you not to wear certain colors of clothing because it will not suit your complexion.

The clique of mean girls in school that bully and taunt you because of your complexion.

The list goes on. Women sometimes bring down other women. Down to a deep, deep, dark place of no return. One of the first things we need to do as women is to always stand together and support one another. From matters of education, dowry, abuse, to the several other social prejudices unfairly bedeviling our women, we, as women, really need to stop perpetuating the destructive cycle.

In this particular case, change truly comes from within, and starts with every individual accepting themselves for who they are, and investing their efforts and energy into worthwhile things of substance.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

Sometimes, I don’t understand the point of rigorous scientific studies, like the one referenced in this article. The title of the article says it all - “You are less beautiful than you think”.

Really? Someone would actually go to such great lengths to emphatically state that our perception of our beauty/worth is way more bloated than reality? That we, in fact, look uglier than we think?

That’s all we need today, isn’t it? Someone to justify our qualms that the reflection we see in the mirror is way more unflattering than some of us already imagine.

I see a fundamental issue with this study as well. If you were to tell people that their pictures are morphed and then give them several choices from which they are asked to pick the image that they believe to be un-morphed, of course, people start with a strong bias. All of us want to strongly believe that we look better than how we see ourselves. If a researcher tells us that most images are morphed, we would hang onto that piece of evidence like a life-raft! Everybody innately wants to look good and be their best. Obviously, people would mostly gravitate to a picture that looks slightly flattering, especially if they know the pictures are altered. Nobody would pick a negatively enhanced picture after they are warned by the researchers. Besides, we humans can’t identify  minor differences between images (such as a 10% slight change in facial features etc.). As an objective reader of the paper, even I couldn’t tell the difference between the 10%, 20% and 30% positively and negatively morphed faces.

But, does it really warrant such an extensive study (and an emphatic article) to state the obvious - that we humans like to feel good about ourselves? It’s common sense that most of us don’t like to be masochists. The fact that most participants in the study did not select their original image, but picked an image that was slightly positively enhanced is very telling - most people are not happy with how they actually look and want to believe and hope that they look slightly better. We all nurture the idea (not the belief) of an ideal-self. This illusion of an ideal-self is necessary (to some degree) for self-preservation, and even self-realization.  But it doesn’t mean that we all believe to have already realized this “ideal-self” - we are constantly striving to attain that perfection and idealism, and that’s where the issue is. If women (and men) mostly believe that they are far more better looking and equipped with desirable traits, why are so many of us so insecure and lacking in confidence all the time? Why is every other woman unhappy about some aspect of her physical appearance? Why do brightly lit restroom mirrors scare the living daylights out of (most of) us?

How do such studies corroborate with the realities of the world outside the science labs? And what do they achieve or hope to achieve with this piece of knowledge?

Dove’s recent campaign might be a little stretched. Yes, it has its scientific lapses, but I think it bolsters something way more positive and constructive than certain scientists that resolutely continue to miss the forest for the trees.

All Things Bright and Beautiful

IndiBlogger is currently holding a writing contest, open to all members of the Indian Blogging Community. The topic is - What does real beauty mean to you?

I glanced through a few submitted posts, and was blown away by the immense talent and the wonderful writers. All these bloggers have done a great job at defining what beauty is, and I am humbled by their posts. I really hope all these people believe in their words and hold true to them always :). In this obsessed era of physical perfection, such reflections are indeed necessary from time to time.  I have often thought about what beauty is, and have even rambled on my thoughts now and then, but I have nothing spectacularly different or insightful to add to the burgeoning views on beauty that IndiBlogger has garnered. However, I was still tempted to write about it - more as an exercise in writing and expressing my thoughts on a topic that always feels incomplete and hard to verbalize. But I don’t plan on submitting the post for fear of marring the beauty of my imperfect expression with the pressure of competition :)

Nature has wired our basic instinct to notice and appreciate that which is helpful to our survival and to the proliferation of our genes. We love flowers because flowers help bees, bees help flowers, and the flowers, the delicate, helpless looking wonders help the ecosystem, and in turn, us. This delicate, yet robust and marvelous chain of support that sustains the planet is beautiful. The unfailing rhythm of Nature that masterfully orchestrates so many interconnected cycles of energy transfer is beautiful. Everything about Nature and its wired instincts in us follow symmetry as the benchmark of beauty. The symmetry of seasons, of night and day, of shapes and sizes, of colors and textures, of movements and sounds, even the fury of disasters - is beautiful. The lesson that Nature teaches, that of Karma, of the unforgivably generous effect of every single minuscule activity - is a beautiful lesson to ingrain. Nature - its specimens, its rhythms, its harmony, its symmetry, its evolution, and its endurance - embodies real beauty. Nature is as is - truthful, quiet, elegant, simple, unadorned, and yet gorgeous.

But this definition is an ethereal one, one that cannot be used in every day practical scenarios, when one tries to understand beauty to live life contently and meaningfully. We often grapple with the question - what makes a person beautiful? When I was very young - as a kid of six or seven, I believed that anyone with fair, creamy skin was beautiful. Cliched, yes. But it was a revelation to me, then. It was my first ever comprehension of the term “beautiful”. Going by the remarks of family, friends, and teachers, I narrowed it down to skin color (or lack of one). And realizing the absence of that precious attribute in me, I spent the following few years retreating into shadows of self-doubt and vanity as I became keenly aware of the unspoken attitudes of those around me. I started hearing this phrase far too often - “This color will not suit you”. So I found myself shrinking into subdued colors, slinking behind vibrant girls who could wear bold colors. But surprisingly, I accepted myself more easily and readily back then - the beauty of being a child. Thanks to my parents for nurturing my interests, and teaching me the value of inner-beauty. Good manners, grace, piety, and purity, my mom said. Intelligence, hard work, undying spirit, and altruism, my dad said. And I clung onto these values, which were mere words to me, hoping I will one day come to understand them and their beauty better.

Today, I do wholeheartedly realize the value of those words. A person is most beautiful for the humility, kindness, empathy, compassion, and generosity they exude - both within themselves, and outside themselves, showering others in their brilliant radiance. They are even more beautiful human beings if their minds are sharp, intelligent, curious, and most importantly, open. The human body can never be perfect in terms of the shallow definition of physical symmetry and flawless skin. But one might still keep aspiring for these in little ways, for somewhere buried in our subconscious, Nature’s instinct lingers, and it flares up now and then. Such mild feelings are harmless, I say, even inevitable really. The need to present oneself as a clean, sheen, and fit individual will always reside. But it is not a quest for beauty, it is an expression of the self to indulge in fleeting “feel-good” moments, when the task of beautifying the soul gets too difficult and abstract at times. Those who have conquered the difficult task of beautifying their inner-self are magnificently beautiful people for sure. Such beautiful individuals learn to accept and love themselves and those around them, for who they are.

Finally, when it comes to my perception of beauty in inanimate objects, I have two metrics - one is color, and the other is emotion. I love colors, and cannot live without them. I’m mesmerized by everything that reflects a bright or pastel glow. I’m glad I’m born a female, for I can lavish myself in so many colors without being scorned or judged. Why color is associated with gender, I don't know. But I live and breathe in colors. They are my reprieve in the daily routine of stress and work. They define beauty in a very materialistic, at the same time, ethereal sense.

Finally, anything that evokes a pleasant feeling, emotion, thought or memory, is beautiful to me. I love Art for the beauty of its varied expressions. And some objects, no matter how ragged and decrepit they turn with age, are souvenirs of memories and feelings we want to hold on forever. Their beauty increases with the number of experiences they share with us in life. These objects become keepers of the treasures of our life experiences. But sentimentalizing on material aspects should be kept on check. It’s beautiful if the mind develops sufficient detachment to merely outwardly recognize the beauty of these objects without getting sentimentally attached to them.

It’s beautiful to see how we coexist with Nature and with each other; that despite the squabbles, the violence, the intolerance, the competition, the greed for power, control, and the immense amounts of ignorance, we connect over the need for love and survival.

Reflections: The Picture of Dorian Gray

Everybody is likely to be proud and content of at least one of their attributes... and possibly worried of losing it someday. I for one used to be quite happy with my memory. It served me well for a little more than two decades of my life and I basked in the glowering warmth of those who dearly wished I would forget a few things. Perhaps I incurred far too many curses, for now my ability to retain much in my memory has been rapidly dwindling, causing me to resort to reminders for reminders. As I have rattled on previously, one's memory is far too precious in defining one's identity. My recent fear is me waking up in another twenty years (if at all) and wondering who I am. With such a strained panic, if some wizard were to materialize in front of me and ask me if I would make a trade to gain an expansive photographic memory which would be in tact no matter how old I aged, wouldn't I love to jump at the offer? Absolutely. But that's what nerds like me ask for...memory. If a vain teenager were asked this question, what do you think she would like to retain no matter how old she became? Wrinkle free-skin, luscious hair, a perky body. Beauty. Youth. To many, beauty and youth are the definitions of their identity... things that they cling onto with a crazed unimaginable fear of losing themselves one day. So, what if such a wish did come true? Would she have the world under her feet? Would she be the luckiest person in the world? Would she be comfortable with such vanity and superficiality and not let them taint her conscience?

The Picture of Dorian Gray is an incredibly interesting psychological experiment on the depths of human vanity. Oscar Wilde deftly explores how we define morality and conscience and what shape we give to our soul. Dorian Gray is an extremely handsome man with perfectly chiseled features. He inspires a painter to give life to his beauty through an exquisite portrait. Just as how Eve was hypnotically deceived and "poisoned" by the snake, Dorian's mind falls into a trance due to a cunning influence of a friend, and in a moment of frenzy he makes a feverish wish to give anything to preserve his beauty, while the lifeless portrait of him would instead bear the signs of his old age. And the wish comes true.

I received this book as part of a surprise parcel from my exceptionally generous and sweet friend, who just woke up one morning and decided to send me gifts! I really am lucky to have such friends! And being the mind reader that she is, all the books she sent completely appeal to me! And this book hit the bull's eye.

All our scriptures insist that any pursuit for the satisfaction of the senses leads us to misery. But an accompanying view is that human beings live on instincts. Our ancestors survived because they heedlessly acted on their senses. It seems to be discordant with our nature to rebel against our instincts, to suppress them and contrive the necessity to act rationally and in concert with what we have been taught as good and virtuous. Dorian Gray represents a man who was convinced that man achieves his highest sense of purpose and integrity, if and only if, he were to focus on pleasuring his senses, with very little thought or suppression. He turns into someone who awakens the "evil Mr.Hyde" from within him, and feeds him with his vanity, materialism and callousness. The pleasure of sadism corrupts him. But something in him that represents him, deteriorates due to this hedonistic life. With every sin, every materialistic hoarding, his portrait turned ugly, evil and aged. The horrific transformation that Dorian could witness is shown as a metaphor, mirroring the deterioration of his soul. As much as Dorian derives pleasure from its atrophy, he couldn't completely be blind to it. Wilde hints at how our conscience, even if it be made separate from our body, cannot be ignored. It is sure to haunt us, no matter how much we isolate ourselves from it.

This, in essence, was Wilde's take on the philosophy of morality. Man's implicit conscience defines morality for him, no matter what religion, or era. Sins need not be categorized as applicable to the Victorian era, or the present era; the conscience always knows. As natural as it might sound to always act in tune with our senses, if the mind is totally cut off, our acts and decisions tend to run out of hand, and place us in scenarios wherein our senses can no longer help us, or benefit in any way. In a philosophical sense, Wilde seems to start with the hypothesis that the mind and the body need to be separate, but he crafts a clever tale to convincingly disprove the hypothesis, asserting that the mind (the soul/the conscience) and the body need to harmonize with one another. He also burrows into the ways and means through which man defines and values his identity. In reality, one's identity is deeper than what the body embodies. Personality is the result of the orchestration of many subtle factors emanating from our consciousness and self-awareness. It is difficult to give form, shape or color to them. But that is what Art tries to capture. A good artist is one who is perceptive to see through such ethereal aspects and is creative and imaginative to represent them through a physical, abstract artifact. In the context of such a discussion, Wilde also explores the meaning of Art and the role of an artist in capturing the abstract from a concrete physical form. Does Art mirror the artist or the inspiration? Or does it instead obscure the artist? What does Art truly represent? Or what should Art truly represent?

As dark and brooding as the book might appear, Wilde's masterful and contemplative writing is a treat. Despite the tragedies, the cynicism and the pessimism, the book encodes hope and optimism for humanity.

Truth is Beauty, and Beauty is?

I was taking a random trip down memory lane due to my utter lethargy to complete the last question on my last assignment for the semester (wow time does fly!). I often fall into this numbing hole of procrastination when I reach very close to completing a tedious/laborious/plain uninteresting work. It could be the last paragraph to write, the last chapter to study, or the last question to answer, and I become restless to finish it, equally excited that I am almost done and become complacent to put it off for a while and laze around. I have reached that state.


Enough of that boring intro... so what I started to think about was the teddy bears I had when I was young (since I happened to glance at the fat white bear sitting on the shelf... a stimulus to my thoughts if you will). I got them when I was around 6 or 7 and I was very attached to those two that even after reaching my twenties I would possessively hide them when young cousins and kids visited my place. No, no, I don't need therapy...I was just reluctant to let a precious part of my childhood be chewed on, torn apart and dragged on the floor by all those adorable kids :). Being the only child, and mostly a loner, these dolls formed a huge part of my childhood... being my pals.


A barbie doll was one among them... although I was never attached to it, for the main reason that you couldn't cuddle one. Almost all my friends and cousins had one at that time. These days there are talks on how perfectly pretty barbies could instill an "unhealthy" body image on young girls, laying ideas on perceptions of beauty. Well, I'm really curious to truly investigate this... talk to a few young girls or probably read more about how valid the fear/hypothesis is. When I was young I really don't remember noticing how pretty a barbie was. I'm stumped if that doll probably had some impact on my image of beauty.


Cambridge dictionary defines beauty as, "the quality of being pleasing, especially to look at, or someone or something that gives great pleasure, especially by being looked at." I'm surprised at the heavy connotation of physicality in the definition, and something predominantly experienced by our sight! I beg to broaden the definition....


They say beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, but what makes the beholder view something as beautiful? There are a few people/things/aspects in life that most people will unanimously agree as being beautiful, and this is probably an objective measure of symmetry etc. But what about the rest?


As Keats said, is beauty just truth? Well... there are some truths that are ugly when revealed, I can't find a trace of beauty in them. Is our perception of beauty just emotional bonding? I don't know, but I know I loved a ragged 2 rupees doll in comparison to a barbie and I loved my two teddies that were patched up and kept together with stitches, and I still search for a bear that resembles those two. Maybe I'm in search of memories but I would still call the bears cute, pretty and use other nice adjectives (or am I using the adjectives on my memories?). There is a saying in Tamil that I'm inadequately translating as, " To the mother crow, her young one appears like a golden chic." Crows are supposed to be "ugly" since they are black, but a mama crow thinks its little one is a pretty golden bird. Of course "golden" is a metaphor...it could signify physical appearance, and other general characteristics.


Beauty by itself then becomes a metaphor. A metaphor to symbolize and probably qualitatively assign our appreciation in response to positive feelings and emotions that get evoked. Most times, these feelings are evoked through people or objects and we place our appreciation on them, thereby making them special and seeing them as beautiful? Sometimes it's an event, a phase of life, riveting memories, and we often scrounge around to find an object to pour the sense of beauty we want to treasure in an effort to make the memories as "real" and "physical" and as alive as possible.


I don't know why I end up relating everything to emotions and sentiments... I sound sappy. But really, a challenge that AI faces is in simulating these emotions in order to "program" a computer to recognize or subjectively categorize an object as being beautiful even though it fails all the objective measures of beauty.