“I used to look so beautiful”, she said, while turning the pages of the photo album of her dancing days.


I often wonder about the idea of Beauty. Is it really subjective?

I think she is beautiful, she is as beautiful as she was when she was a girl with the youthful smile and pink cheeks. Her beauty is defined by the years she has lived. The sun spots on her cheeks reminds me how beautifully she comforted her patients in the scorching sun of summer. The grey hair are the sign of the wisdom she shares. Her (now) weak arms are warmer than ever, they comforted her children – now they comfort her of their absence. Her wrinkled skin carries stories of hardships and happiness. Her beauty is about the fact that she has lived – she lived a long life, she lived through loneliness and broken dreams, she not only survived but she created life, she spread smiles.

Her beauty is about the dreams that she fiercely dreams about – her beauty is the plan she has for the unseen future. The nostalgia of her youth is her confidence.


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