My mother with her kohl-lined eyes, her glowing skin and gentle voice, the rustle of her soft cotton saris when she moved, the jasmine in her hair… that, was my first impression of beauty. My mother who would milk the cows and drive her car with equal facility. That, to me was beautiful. Today, that impression is amplified and I find myself mirroring her image more and more in my life, seeking as I always am, beauty around me. And within me.

More and more it becomes imperative to recognise what my mother taught us so unobtrusively, the ancient wisdom that true beauty is exuded from within. It is not in designer clothes or layers of cosmetics. It is in the smile reflected in your eyes. Or the wisdom in a furrowed brow.