Smile with pride

SMILE WITH PRIDE

            My fetish for ‘crows feet’ is perhaps as old as me. The way it lights up the eyes and adds that special joyous tinge to an ordinary smile is almost divine. What is a smile if it does not reach the eyes? Then again, why call it 'crow’s feet' and not 'beauty beams'? How about 'smiling rays'? 

            I always feel that whatever suits on you, or makes you feel confident and good also makes you feel beautiful. But then it’s such a pity that the standards governing beauty are mere statistics, applied universally, disregarding uniqueness and individual beauty. Anyway, I always longed for ‘crow’s feet’.  I imagine myself smiling in a particular manner--'my' smile, after sitting on my lips for a while, dreamily trails up creating ripples of joy on my face, then it reaches my eyes, making my eyes beam in their full glory before fanning out of my eyes like soft brush strokes that stand out remarkably on a beautifully painted canvas. I often crinkle my eyes to see how deep and far these creases spread. This has been one of my secret joys and I indulge in it quite frequently during my sessions of mirror talking. I always wondered if ‘crow’s feet’ would make me ‘look’ as beautiful as my grandmother or our house help Badaami. It was only in one of the recently clicked photographs that for first time i saw a bold and well defined plume like formation around my eyes. To say the least, I was immensely pleased. And who says that pics belie? The camera is smarter than the mirror and mind sometimes. 

            Nevertheless, If crow's feet make me look not so attractive and haggard to others' eye I surely ‘feel’ beautiful and worthwhile being the proud owner of these crimps. Sometime back, someone in a most polite and apologetic way pointed out that the worst and foremost tell tale sign of age is ‘crow’s feet’. Obviously she was hinting at my most cherished creases. She even recommended that I use a good eye gel that would make them vanish. Professing herself to be my well wisher she suggested in a polite yet seemingly sadistic manner that I wear sunglasses in order to hide my age. Is it really that bad to age? Why this obsession about hiding age? For me the grace of age is more poetic than the charms of youth.

I am reminded of  Robert Browning's lines:

“Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!”

Crow’s feet -- A death knell for vanity? Really? But then what about all this talk about beauty being skin deep ? 

            All Perceptions! Yours and mine! Ours and theirs! In this particular case I didn’t even want to reconsider my perceptions, and clung to them even more passionately. My idea of beauty perhaps does not comply with those in fashion industry or beauty business or those adhering to fixed and ancient norms of beauty. I am convinced that  my ‘crow’s feet’ is very endearing. Flaunting it is like showcasing the depths of life's experiences and maturity.  I realized, the genuine the smile the deeper and the profounder the crow's feet. I even noticed a beautiful  sun-rays-patterned ‘crow’s feet’ especially when I laugh out loud. Together with laugh lines, it adds a new dimension to my face--My face has acquired the power to reflect , in a subtle manner,  the untold tales of innumerable moments of joy-- a soft reminder of a life lived smilingly.