Defining Beauty

Today I found this essay sandwiched between the hundreds of scrapes of magazine cut-outs that have all been abandoned in a corner of my room for a while. Well I remember that wrote this when I was fifteen, when I was a much of an avid writer than I am today.

The commotion from the audience was hushed as the ballerina entered the stage. The lone spotlight in the grand hall shone onto the where the masked ballerina was situated on the parquet floor. Dressed in a fluffy white dress adorned with laces at the hem, the ballerina, with her infamous golden Venetian mask, daintily bent down to touch her toes, signaling the start of her performance.

First, little strains from the violin strings could be heard. The music gently flowed in the hall into the ears of the audience, like honey being poured down a parched throat. The ballerina started off with swift, yet elegant movements and moved along with the music. Her legs were seemingly floating in the air, jumping and landing effortlessly on stage. Everyone gazed at the beautiful sight of the ballerina, not a single one of them peeling their eyes away from her.

The music subsequently gained momentum; tiny beats from the drum and little chimes from bells were added to quicken the rhythm. The ballerina seemed to emerge as a swan, dancing fleet and lovely pirouettes at the centre of the stage. She later trailed to the background and did a full spin in her famous swan pose, marking the climax of her performance with a thunderous applause from the audience. Finally, the ballerina did her last jump horizontally across the stage and landed like a cotton wool. The pianist held onto the keys a few more seconds than usual, and ended off with a final, low key. The ballerina turned to the audience, and bowed gracefully towards them. Like an unspoken language, the audience immediately clapped and cheered, filling the grand hall with festive noises. Soon after, the ballerina left the stage solemnly with her head held low. She was proud of her dance but she knew she would never be able to gain such recognition if not for the mask she had.

In her changing room, the ballerina took off the mask on her face and looked at herself in the mirror. She hated the sight of her face. Her horribly distorted face, which, when shown, will cost her to lose all the fame that she had built without it. She quickly changed into casual clothes and left the backstage. Suddenly, someone approached her and she thought, "Is there finally someone who will accept that I might be the Swan Lady?". To her utter chagrin, that person asked her about the Swan Lady's whereabouts. Ignoring that question, she elbowed her way out of the theatre amongst all her supporters, which did not even give her a second glance.

No one ever knew who the ballerina was, for the mystery behind this Swan Lady was never made known. For all her countless performances wide across the world, she always had a mask on her face. And it will always remain on her face. "Well until one day, one day when someone actually asks me if I am the Swan Lady," she laments.



"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart." - Helen Keller