imagine a world in shades of black and white, will the rose be still called colorful? will the rose be still called beautiful? while the answer to the first question is a definite NO, the answer to the latter is tricky. and that is because beauty does not necessarily depend on color, odor, taste, texture or any other physical features. beauty can be seen, and yet remain hidden from the untrained eyes. beauty can be touched, and yet the silent stroke of beauty on your flying hair may go unnoticed. beauty may be smelt in the perfumes of Paris, but the smell of the first rain can get overpowered by thoughts of the ever so important appointment about to be missed because of the downpour.
people walk past beauty in their lives a hundred thousand times – are their eyes not trained to see them? are their skins so course that they can not feel it all around them? or is it the everlasting lack of time that forbids the man to stop and look, stop and feel, stop and awe at how beautiful the world around them is? or is it that the world around us has gone so ugly, so grotesque that we have stopped believing beauty may still reside here – within us?
"…and the answer my friend, is blowing in the wind; the answer is blowing in the wind"