Acharya Prashant explains that to understand the nature of the body, one should look at pictures of film stars, who gained fame through their bodies, in their youth and then in their old age. He says this is a good way to become free from body-consciousness. Many of these stars, especially actresses from the past, now feel ashamed to be photographed. He questions the attraction to things like beautiful skin, flesh, and curves, pointing out that just beneath a thin layer of skin lies feces, pus, bile, urine, and all sorts of filth. He asks how one can kiss and caress this skin knowing what is just behind it, and how a person who contemplates this can continue to live in body-consciousness. It requires great dishonesty, he states, to call oneself the body. While we may hide our body's realities from others—like cleaning our eyes, cutting our nails, or even farting discreetly—we ourselves know the truth. We know about our own bad breath, yet we use mouth fresheners to entice others, which is a deception of both others and oneself. This dishonesty is the root of broken relationships, disappointment, and shocks. Initially, people present a polished version of themselves, but once a relationship is established, the reality emerges, like wanting a kiss after eating an onion dosa. He says that one who is to awaken will do so in such moments of realizing the body's true nature. He narrates the story of Prince Siddhartha, whose father, warned that his son might become an ascetic, surrounded him with pleasures and beautiful women. One night, after a late party, Siddhartha woke up to see these beautiful women in a disheveled state—some drooling, some with smeared makeup, some snoring, and one even lying in her own vomit. Seeing this, Siddhartha realized the true nature of physical beauty and lost all attachment to it. Acharya Prashant concludes that the beauty that attracts us is the result of hours of preparation. If one were to witness this process—the plucking, scrubbing, waxing, and the pain involved—the attraction would vanish. He humorously suggests that all men should be required to work in a women's beauty parlor for three months to see the reality of what goes into creating an attractive appearance, which would cure them of their obsession with form and youth.