It has been some time that I am trying to define beauty. While visiting a cosmetic shop as I accompanied my freind, I bawled at the price that was displayed under each item. The cost of a perfume bottle could feed a family for a week in the the rural parts of Africa!
As I waited for my friend to finish her shopping, I sat and observed the customers who came in and made their purchases. One of them walked right in and picked up stuffs that amounted to a few hundred dollars and left - all in less than 10 minutes. Another couple passed by the store and spent nearly 30 minutes without making any purchases at all. Then came in a man clad in classy suit, looking to get something for his wife.
I watched this unravel before my eyes and a pressing question surfaced in my thoughts. Why are so many people willing, or at the very least, intending to spend so much of money for a lotion put into bottle with a famous brand name, nicely decked at the shelf with full lighting? Does these cosmetics really make them beautiful? Wait, what is beauty? Let's see.
I would prefer the rough creases on her palm as she raises her hand in Dua after a long day of work as manual labour.
I would prefer the girl with dark circles and eye bags since she stayed up late night to finish her assignments. She knew she had to fight to fulfil her dreams and her parents wishes.
I would prefer the unkempt hair and the pale face as she lies on the stretcher, waiting for her turn into the operation theatre while her husband stands by her side, hiding his greatest fear - losing her.
I would prefer the sleep-deprived, yellowish eyes of the old woman who still works at 55 years old to feed her grandchildren after their mother passed away.
I would prefer the tiredness of the woman who stands by the cash register all day long while not even being thanked by the customers to feed her children. She has no other choice.
I would prefer the oil splash marks on the hands of the newly-wed bride who is still learning to cook. She couldn't afford her mother-in-law complaining to her mother of her 'inadequacy'.
I would prefer the will of the overweight girl who hits the gym to be active and fit because it makes her feel alive, not because she wants to fall prey to the eyes of men.
I would prefer the old, ripped rug the woman uses to pray day and night than the hand-made, import quality,velvet prayer mat that never tasted a tear drop from its owner.
I would prefer the smell of natural henna on her hair as I snuggle beside my mom more than any designer perfumes.
I would prefer the widely-gaped front teeth of my dad even when he hides it when taking a picture.
I would prefer the staunch smell of sweat dripping as my brother walks into the room after an evening of futsal.
To be beautiful is an art and this world has reduced it to moisturisers, facial creams and compact powders. Nothing makes me more uncomfortable more than the widespread promotions of anti-aging creams.I mean, you can 'prevent' aging but what's your plan to escape death?
Being beautiful is to be raw, perfectly imperfect and unapologetically human in this seemingly immortal life. And to be beautiful in these ways is a rare thing to be witnessed today. This type of beauty might not be recognised or appreciated by many but those who do see the spark in your eyes are the ones to keep close to your heart. It was their beauty which attracted the beauty inside you.
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| "Is there any reward for good except good?" (55:60) |
A message to the young ladies : Remove those masks that they have been pushing you to wear and walk on Earth with confidence, a strong will and an understanding heart. Free yourself from the self-imposed chains that keep you from soaring high. Do not give your skin colour the power to decide who you are. You are defined more than just some melatonin pigment in your skin; you're a living soul so don't settle for anything less than life.
May Allah SWT beautify our souls and help us meet other beautiful souls on the same Journey so that we may unite in Jannatul Firdaus enjoying eternal beauty.
