WHAT IS BEAUTY?

 

WHAT IS BEAUTY?

            “Beauty” is defined as:”a combination of qualities, such as shape, colour, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight. According to another definition it is a feature of objects that makes them pleasurable to perceive. Such objects include landscapes, sunsets, humans and works of art. This definition further says that beauty, art, and taste are the main subjects of aesthetics, one of the fields of study within philosophy.

 

             Some synonyms of beauty are: loveliness, attractiveness, prettiness, handsomeness, charm, glamour, grace and symmetry.

            Natural beauty is real beauty. It is eternal. For example, the moon needs no ornamentation. Flowers like the rose are naturally beautiful. A rainbow in the sky looks wonderfully.  Man-made beauty is less impressive and transient. It fades.

            One of the best ingredients of beauty is morality or virtuousness. The English poet John Keats (1795-1821) said: Beauty is truth, truth beauty,---that is all/Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

 

            For great minds, everything created by God is beautiful. For them black is as beautiful as white, and thorns are not totally ugly. In S.T. Coleridge’s poem, the Rime of the Ancient Mariner, snakes which initially appear as “slimy things”, symbols of disgust and decay, are later recognized as beautiful, vital beings worthy of reverence.

 

            Somebody rightly said: In all ranks of life the human heart yearns for the beautiful; and the beautiful things that God makes are his gift to all alike.

 

              To conclude, here is a bit long appreciation of beauty by the English poet John Keats who has already been mentioned above.

 

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:

Its loveliness increases; it will never

Pass into nothingness; but still will keep

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing

A flowery band to bind us to the earth,

Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth

Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,

Of all unhealthy and o’er darkened ways

Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,

Some shape of beauty moves away the pall

From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,

Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon

For simple sheep; and such are daffodils

With the green world they live in; and clear rills

That for themselves a cooling covert make

‘Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,

Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:

And such too is the grandeur of the dooms

We have imagined for the mighty dead;

All lovely tales that we have heard or read:

An endless fountain of immortal drink,

Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.

 

                                    ********

G.R.Kanwal

28 August 2025