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The story of 16-year-old Moni Bhosle nicknamed ‘Monalisa’, the flower seller with amber eyes and dusky skin who went viral at the Kumbh Mela, has left me uneasy. It’s not because she is an underage minor who shot to fame solely because of her beauty, but because of what it reveals about us as a society. This teenage overnight sensation was not applauded for her grit or struggle to support her family, instead all that mattered was how she looked.
The whirlwind of attention brought her opportunities she never imagined: her first airplane ride, a diamond necklace gifted by a jewellery showroom owner in Kozhikode, and thousands of adoring fans. But the cost? Men began harassing her, and her parents, fearing for her safety, called her back home to Indore. When I was growing up, looks were never discussed. No one told me I was beautiful. What mattered was academic achievement, kindness, courage and empathy. Today, I see young girls obsessing over their appearance, tweaking photos to meet impossible standards—much like the Korean drama True Beauty, where a bullied teenager transforms into a ‘goddess’ through makeup alone.
The ‘beauty premium’ is real. Studies show that attractive people often land better jobs and higher pay. Social media feeds this obsession, peddling unattainable standards while subtly teaching our children that appearance outweighs character.
Our beauty industry narrates its own story about what we value. India’s beauty and personal care market stands at a staggering $21 billion, with cosmetics alone making up $8.12 billion. This massive industry thrives on women’s insecurities, constantly reinforcing the idea that we need to look a certain way to be valued.
In our culture, beauty is inseparably linked to youth. As women age, society renders them increasingly invisible. It’s a toxic narrative that dismisses the profound gifts aging brings—wisdom, resilience, and a deeper sense of self. Fortunately, older women are too self-assured to care about it! In my 50s, I see the beauty trap for what it is. I wish every young woman develops the self-confidence to realise that the cliché is true: Genuine beauty comes not from external validation, but from within. I’ve met people who despite their physical attractiveness were obnoxious and arrogant, while others, deemed ‘plain’ by society radiated warmth that made them unforgettable.
Moni’s story isn’t just about one girl’s sudden fame but is a mirror that reflects our skewed priorities. While I’m genuinely happy Moni found opportunities she never dreamed of, I can’t help but wonder: what message are we sending to the next generation? That going viral for your looks is okay? It’s time we shift the narrative.
Our children should know that their self-worth isn’t tied to likes on a filtered selfie they upload on social media. They should know it’s better to be kind than merely beautiful, wiser than just young, and authentic rather than perfect. These are the qualities that lead to true happiness, lasting contentment, and freedom from seeking validation from others.
