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No body's imperfect
C.K. MEENA
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People seem to believe that if they `correct' their `flawed' bodies, their self-confidence will automatically burgeon. Surely they've got it backwards?
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SCULPTED BODY Performer Cher reportedly has had even some of her ribs removed to acquire that jaw-dropping shape PHOTO: REUTERS
Fewer people today
Gaze into the mirror and say,
"My face is unique
And so's my physique,
I'm happy I look this way."
Hands off that limerick, it's mine. It's one of a kind, and unlikely to win a prize — just like my own face. Change it, and it no more belongs to me.
I wasn't always as pleased with my face as I am today. When I was a child I used to want a perky nose, and matters weren't improved when a cousin helpfully pointed out that I had somehow inherited my grandaunt's bulbous nozzle. Then I began to peep into the Femina that my mother subscribed to and discovered that practically everything about my face was wrong. With high school came the nightmare of the "clip", a steel wire that was supposed to straighten the teeth. My father was convinced that my upper row of teeth protruded and, if left alone, would steadily continue its northward journey and dent my chances in the marriage market.
It is magical how every imaginary physical flaw vanishes like a cowardly ghost when the mind grows self-assured. But people today seem to believe that if they "correct" their "flawed" bodies, their self-confidence will automatically burgeon. Surely they've got it backwards? Surely they should know there's no such thing as the perfect body or the perfect face. It exists on an artist's sketchpad, not in flesh and blood. Those who desperately want to set right the mistakes they see in the mirror should try to locate the actual source of unhappiness buried elsewhere inside them.
The number of unhappy people is on the rise, if you go by trend-spotting stories in the media on the craze for cosmetic surgery. What was once plastic surgery for accident victims has become cosmetic surgery for fashion victims. One can well understand the need for corrective operations for birth defects (harelip, cleft palate and the like) or disfigured flesh, skin and bone (the result of a fire or a car crash, for example). But to carve up healthy bodies that their owners perceive as ugly — I find that hard to stomach.
Ugliness lies in the eye of the beholder. Have you seen people with six fingers on one hand? The sixth one branches out from the pinkie and is for all practical purposes a useless appendage. It used to be considered lucky. In fact, there were many minor physical aberrations (birthmarks, large moles, crossed eyes) that were looked upon not as deformities but as gifts from god. Since surgery was never an option in the past, this was perhaps a gentle way of accepting those who were born a little different from the rest.
Today, we have zero tolerance towards abnormalities. Our bodies must conform to the globally manufactured standard of beauty, and since that's impossible to achieve we become hypercritical, finding fault with our physical features — too thin, too broad, too round, too narrow, too thick, too everything. Affluent societies have turned such nitpicking into a fine art and plumbed unbelievable depths of self-hatred. Even a country like China is not immune. I'm still staggering after reading about young Chinese women who take drastic measures to get their legs extended. Doctors break the bones of both legs — perfectly sound and sturdy legs — and insert steel pins. Slowly and painfully the legs grow longer by about three inches. The women, who are of average height, are convinced that by growing taller they will gain self-esteem.
Oh yes, that's the buzzword: self-esteem. You enhance your lips, cover your bald patch, correct your hairline, or drain fat from your belly, and voila, your self-esteem starts soaring. Many Indians are spending thousands on facelifts and botox treatments. Even men are getting their eyebrows shaped and breasts removed. I'm trying my best to take a sympathetic view, believe me. The pressures of modern living, the stress, the competition, I know, I've heard it all. But if your confidence has indeed sunk perilously low, who do you think is better equipped to boost it — a cosmetic surgeon or a psychiatric counsellor?
Teenagers are particularly vulnerable, and this is what I find disturbing. Life deals them many a hard knock and they'll be able to take it on the chin only with emotional support. A local schoolgirl was apparently traumatised when her classmates teased her about her oversized breasts. Her parents marched her off to a cosmetic surgeon and got them reduced. I hope they thought of surgery as the last resort and not the first option. I hope they spent enough time patiently trying to ease her fears with love, to give her the strength to fight back. I hope they sought other kinds of professional help before they knocked on the surgeon's door. I sincerely hope they did.
Maybe body sculpting is the way of the future. It's a natural progression from makeup to makeover to extreme makeover. Meanwhile, one of life's delicious ironies is the creation of the digital woman. She might soon rule the world of advertising, posing a grave threat to models. Computer-generated beauties could edge out real ones. But there's one problem: the digital woman doesn't look real enough. Therefore she has to be made to look human. How? By adding a few blemishes to her face and body!
Send your feedback to ckmeena@rediffmail.com.
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