
The original story as follows was written by the founder-acarya of The International Society For Khrishna Conscousness (ISKCON), His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Praphupada. Those purists among you will find the link to the original Liquid Beauty, actually a retelling by a devotee of the Hindu Vaishnaiva sect.
I prefer to tell my own version of it, so here goes:
Once upon a time, a beautiful woman who happenned to be very devout found herself the object of unwanted attention. From the time she was a young girl, she had multiple proposals of marriage, and had since lost track of the times she had been pursued. Their faces all blended into one giant lustful leer that made it impossible to distinquish one from the other.
As impossible as it was to believe save to those who knew her well, she was at the age of twenty five still a virgin. She was determined to keep her virginity until she found a man suitable for marriage. This was not out of some religous compunction so much as it was just from a sense of self-esteem. Still, as time went on she found herself becomming more and more spiritual. It became a great comfort to her.
One night, as she went about her evening meditations, she felt the power ofthe goddess enveloping her, and she could almost hear her speak out to her, "you will be betrayed by the one man outside your family you trust above all others".
Immediately she thought of Greg, her workmate and a close friend who had been a great help to her both on and off the job, in various ways. Actually, she didn't believe this sudden feeling, but she couldn't shake it, and had trouble sleeping that night.
About a week later, she noticed that Greg seemed to have changed. He became much more attentive, and was suddenly around her all the time at work, and soon started calling three or four times a day. She knew then her feelings were right, and so she put in her two weeks notice, and after a very uncomfortable two weeks left her job. She had years earlier inherited a great amount of money, and so had no need of work as a means of supporting herself. Still, she was distressed as this job had been a chosen path to a career she had longed dreamed of. But it had to be done, she realized.
Still, she was resentful. Why should she have to quit her job on account of a man who turned out to be like all others after all? Yet, he had previously been such a good friend. What had happenned to him? She looked at herself in the mirror, and realized that her beauty was to her a curse. Why couldn't she have just been beautiful? Did she have to be ravishingly so? And was she really all that beautiful? She couldn't see it herself.
As these thoughts tormented her, Greg called, and begged her to see him. He declared his love for her and pleaded, his voice sounding as though he were near to tears. In fact, he seemed to have been crying. Reluctantly, she agreed to see him.
When he arrived at her doorstep, he repeated his declarations of love, and asked for her hand in marriage. She asked him why her, whereupon he responded that his previous engagement had been broken off, and he came to realize then that it was her he loved the whole time. And then he spilled it.
"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life, more beautiful than even any model or actress I have ever seen, by far."
Like a flash, it occurred to her what to do, and what to say.
"I'll tell you what", she said. "Give me one month to think about it, and I'll let you know. In the meantime, don't come around me, don't call me, don't get anywhere near me. One month. Do you think you are strong enough to handle that? Because if you are not, you certainly ain't the man I'm looking for."
Reluctantly, Greg agreed with this demand, and went on his way. Starting the next day, Darla purchased a months supply of laxatives and other purgatives, and all but stopped eating. In addition, she acquired a series of large pots. She would need at least four of them.
She lived over the course of the next month on nothing but bread and water and a little fruit here and there, but as little as possible. Nor did she use any kind of vitamin or mineral supplement to make up the loss of all the essential nutrients. She quickly became severely ill, and weak. Within two weeks time, she was throwing up what little she did eat. It seemed as though her body was beginning to turn on itself and consume itself, which in addition to the bread and water she quickly passed.
In addition, she caught a cold, and her nose was constantly running.
All of this she kept. He excrement, her urine, her vomit, and her mucous, each one in a sperate jar until, once they were all filled, she found another one in which she mixed all the bodily substances together.
Finally, a month passed, and Greg did not waste a second as he arrived at her door. He knocked impatiently, and when Darla opened the door, he obviously did not recognize the pathetic wretch of a creature that stood before him. She had wasted away to all but skin and bones, her cheekbones were hollow and her eyes were sunk in way back in the sockets. She had sores that seemed to be running with pus on her face, and her once beautiful complexion was ashen, a sickly mixture of white and grey. She was wrinkled and baggy and dry from dehydration. The light clothes that she wore seemed almost to weigh her down, as they now revealed a skeletal frame upon which the skin clung tenuously.
She was a living horror, a veritable manifestation of walking death. Yet, Greg seemed not to notice. In his eagerness, he had only one thought on his mind.
"Where's Darla?", he asked expectantly, barely able to hide his hopeful yet wary desires.
"I am Darla", she said incredulously. It was an effort to her by now to even be able to speak, to say nothing of standing long enough to answer the door. Greg took a good long look at the woman who now seemed to be on the verge of collapse, if not on death's door. Yet, as horrible as it seemed, he could soon tell that this was indeed Darla.
"What happenned to you?", he demanded in shocked amazement.
"I wanted you to see me for what I really am", she explained. "Then, I want you to see what it is you have fallen in love with. I want you to see my beauty. I still have it, though not on me right now. Come with me."
"Darla, what the hell are you talking about", he demanded. But he followed along behind her, until she made her way to the utility room, upon which he noticed for the first time the stench that seemed to permate the house. She stood now in front of a series of large jars without lids.
"There is my beauty", she explained, "distilled down to it's essence."
He looked into the jars filled with the vile collection of excrement, urine, mucous,vomit, and the one that was a mixture of all these substances, and began gagging. He looked. His expression of horrified revulsion spoke volumes.
"So do you still want to marry me?", she asked.
"No, not any more", he confessed. "You've made your point. I have been a real idiot."
"What do you mean?", Darla asked. "Do you mean that you understand now that beauty is only skin deep, and that it is all in the eye of the beholder, that it is all an illussion based on gross material lust?"
"No", he replied. "I mean because I see now that you are one crazy bitch."

