Monday, June 4, 2012

Beauty: Not To Be Appreciated



I hail from a very democratic country, India. But if you ask me, I would say that my household is anything but democratic. Freedom of speech is one main problem we all face; especially girls like me with a huge mouth. I can start talking and not cease till I feel satisfied. I am never rude and I make sure of that. I say what I think and don’t always think about whether the others like it or not. According to me, a fire in my mind is better put out than let burning. 


Recently, I was exaggerating the beauty of the houses, one my father’s and one his brother’s. The intention in my mind was to let them know how grateful I am for all their help and how magnificent their hard work was. Too bad that I did not know it would all strike me back one day. My mom pulled me in and spanked me with a lecture about how to keep my mouth shut. It turns out you aren’t supposed to speak about the beauty of things because if some day something happens to it, I would be blamed. They would say, “She had her eye on it since the day she saw it. She is the reason for the doom of it all.” I gaped with an open mouth when my mom informed me of how it didn’t matter what my intention was, all they heard was that I really liked it and I had an eye on it. How absurd is that? 

This is a common ideology in India and many other places too, I guess. That is why many parents insist on putting a black mark on their child’s face. They believe that when a passerby looks at the beauty of the child, his eyes would be diverted by the black mark on its face, thus, his ‘eyes’ not falling on the child. Absurd, I tell you. Stupid superstition. 




I believe in it minutely too, I can’t say I don’t. But I find it weird that a beauty cannot be appreciated. Taj Mahal must have broken down to debris if it was for this superstition to actually be true. 


Someday, I want to be around people that won’t mind when I talk what I actually feel like and where I don’t have to hide my true feelings about anything. That’s the real democracy. That’s where you can voice your opinion and be heard and not taken negatively. That’s where I will raise my children. 

After all, what is beauty if not appreciated? Would you rather be quiet and silently enjoy a masterpiece or tell it to the world and let them know what you feel?

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