A couple of weeks ago I watched a film called Amal, directed by Canadian-Indian filmmaker Richie Mehta. It's an allegorical tale about a simple-minded, gentle and honest autorickshaw driver in Delhi who's surprisingly untouched by his surroundings. But that's not the point of this article. In the film, Naseeruddin Shah plays an eccentric millionaire who dresses in rags and goes around the city being obnoxious to everyone in sight. Given his bedraggled appearance, he gets insulted, ridiculed and thrown out by various people, which probably proves his hypothesis that appearance and status maketh a man. For, being offensive rarely gets the rich and the well-groomed rejected by society and, if contemporary norms are to be gauged purely on practical evidence, such behaviour may even be perceived as a virtue.
Yesterday, a friend mentioned on Facebook that she always feels under-dressed and unkempt when she goes to her daughters' school where all other parents come made-up to the hilt. I too have noticed the same at my daughter's school -- I find it mildly amusing and not in the least bothersome. Fortunately (I think) I was never plagued by issues of self-image as determined by my appearance even as a teenager -- which is when, I presume, most people are acutely conscious of the way they look and about how members of the opposite sex in particular and society in general, perceive them. It was irritating to find other girls landing boyfriends with alarming ease, while I had to go around proposing to all the boys I found attractive at different times and for different reasons only to be rejected by each one of them. I spoke my mind, didn't care how I dressed, wasn't coy or overtly feminine in my behaviour and was largely unconcerned about being judged for the way I looked. But that didn't mean I didn't want to be liked or loved just the way I was, for who I was. On the other hand, I had lots of friends, read voraciously, loved to debate various issues and enjoyed college life to the hilt, despite the absence of a boyfriend. In a way, it was for the best -- no relationship = less stress and greater freedom.
Increasingly, I find people spending more and more time, effort and money on grooming and trying to alter their appearance (for the better?). For instance, my husband and I observed at our daughter's annual concert that not only did none of the mothers sport grey hair (which, at least some of them must have, given that they'd be around the same age as us), many had streaks of gold, brown and assorted other colours added to their hair (often straightened artificially too) and were dressed and made-up more heavily than I was on my wedding day.
It seems the entire beauty-fashion-fitness industry, in connivance with the media is striving to alter the way we look at ourselves and our bodies. And it isn't for the noble cause of making us feel good but a ploy to increase sales and profit margins. I am no longer who I am, but how I look and how I am perceived by others. It has become particularly important to look attractive, trim and young, regardless of your natural body type, facial attributes and personality. But peel off all those artificial layers and it comes down to the basics. For instance, I'm a 38-year-old woman of strictly average looks, with unruly hair, a squint in my eye, a tyre of flab around my waist, stretch marks caused by pregnancy, facial hair, wrinkling skin and a bulky body.
The good part is, I don't dislike myself for the way I look. I accept it as a matter of fact, follow good hygiene, wear decent clothes, don't have bad body odour and comb my hair whenever necessary. I'm not ashamed to look into the mirror and even pay the occasional visit to a beauty parlour (strictly at my convenience and not as a matter of priority because the eyebrows have grown out-of-control) for basic grooming, and leave it at that. I don't colour my hair, don't wear make-up, don't buy expensive clothes or shoes and don't feel worse off as a result. It's not as though I frown upon these things. They just don't seem important enough, and certainly don't play any role in determining how I feel about myself.
One of my favourite actors is Denzel Washington. Not because he's handsome. His face radiates a glow of goodness that seems to emanate from his soul. And that, in my opinion, is the real essence of beauty, which cannot be acquired by applying a product or wearing a brand. I love Meryl Steep too. She's a brilliant actress, 60 years old and mother of four. She's also unusually beautiful. But even in her younger days she didn't try to look thin, and now that she's old, her skin is sagging just the way it should, if it isn't stretched and stapled in place to look younger and sprightlier. Contrast this with Aamir Khan's desperate bid to pass off as a 23-year-old in 3 Idiots (he's 45, and looks it, despite his best efforts to stay young). Streep and Washington are examples of actors who haven't let vanity get the better of them. Aging is a fact of life. So is deterioration of the body and ultimately, death.
I'm not a psychologist, but common sense dictates that one's self-image must be determined from within and not without. I need to know myself to like myself, and in that sense, the way I look or other people's opinion of me cannot matter all that much. It requires introspection and reflection on life and my own choices, a healthy acceptance of my weaknesses and the ability to get past them without bitterness.
None of which can be purchased in a bottle.
