Ramblings under the influence (of tea)

I am at a coffee shop, working on many things. I am sitting across a guy who looks like Matt Damon from School Ties (sorta). I also saw a woman in the bus today who looked like Katie Holmes. I considered approaching her and telling her. My sense of propriety along with a lack of my usual boldness combined to prevent me from committing that particular gaffe. Now, sitting across Matt (for lack of a proper name) I realize how big of a gaffe it would have been. I am thankful somewhat that my ancestors have not passed me any 'famous person look alike' genes. It would be pretty irritating to live a life of assumed fame and constant misunderstanding. I recently heard a "This American Life" episode called Doppelgangers. This line of thinking has reminded me of that particular episode. You should definitely check it out. You would realize, I think, the analogy and come to a conclusion similar to mine.  So the next time you think of complementing somebody with 'Hey, you have Tom Cruise eyes.' or 'Hey, you look like a tall Drew Barrymore.' just don't, okay! Note that, I am not just asking you to refrain from using these particular statements, but comparisons to famous people in general. 

This brings me to a sort of related line of thought. We as a people hate being judged for our looks. People always tell me you should not judge a person by what's on the outside. Or the more popular - 'It's what's on the inside that matters." I guess they are talking about character, intellect, one's soul or something along that line. My confusion here is a fundamental one. Why is it wrong to appreciate somebody's beauty? Or give them jobs based on their appearance? Or build a relationship based on their looks? One of these is seemingly ok (at least appears to be). You can appreciate somebody's beauty. But, in practice it is not very ok. You can not walk up to someone and say "Hey, you look stunning." or "Hey, you look sexy." But it is perfectly acceptable to say, "Hey, what you said is pretty intelligent." To firmly elucidate my confusion: Intellect and creativity are as much based on good genes and are as random as large eyes, blonde hair or high cheek bones. Similar to intelligence, beauty also needs a lot of hard work to maintain and heighten. Somehow picking the best looking person is only acceptable if you are a model or an actress. People resent it when a better looking person is promoted to be the spokesperson of anything, or a news anchor, or the public face of an organization. Sometimes they are even promoted for jobs in which beauty seemingly does not have a role to play, such as a doctor. However research does suggest that we naturally trust people who are good looking. I am too lazy to provide you with a link to that research so please assume that I provided you with the pubmed link (Blame my genes). 

Understanding love, Not!

I have been struggling with this huge question of late. Of course huge as an adjective is always relative. Anyway, the question is about love. I have been arguing, fighting, pondering and sometimes just blankly staring at this concept of love. I have been struggling to understand filial and fraternal love. I cannot even wrap my head around the concept of love with a random stranger be it platonic or non platonic - so, I will not talk about it now.

What is this bond - almost indestructible among brothers, between sons/daughters and parents? Why is there an unwritten sense of obligation one feels in giving and reciprocating this abundance of affection? How is it that when it comes to their children, people have this cornucopia, this akshaya patram of time, understanding, patience and yes love? I said unwritten, but maybe it is written in your genes.

With friends, for the last time I felt an actual pain at separation, I have to think back to school or when I moved house when I was 14. I haven't truly missed anybody since I was in 10th standard. It was not a teary farewell when I left home to go to college or even when I travelled nearly 9000 miles to come here to the U.S. Now that I write it out and am saying it aloud in my mind, 9000 miles seems like such an awfully big distance. Yes the excitement of a new journey, the beginning of a new part of my life, the mystery of a new place; all these things must surely have distracted me. But as I said I did not truly miss anybody from back home. Then why do I feel guilty about not calling my dad often enough or skyping with my mom only every time there is a mention of Justin Bieber in a serious discussion about music. (I am not talking about youtube comments here).

Why does my brother feel so invested in my progress? I expect him to feel irritated when I call him for help or advice or just random conversation. He never is. A few years back, when I told my dad that I was not going to take the prestigious job that was pretty hard to come by but work at a start up instead, he obviously had something to say about it. There was this interesting dichotomy in me: I was incredibly doubtful about the saneness of my decision but at the same time, the more my dad told me it was a bad decision the more my doubt vanished (only to return when I put the phone down). I remember my winning argument, "Appa, I know what I am doing!" It is interesting of course only in the comfortable after glow of nostalgia. When you eat so much that you can't move, the discomfort is only a fleeting irritation when you think about it the next day.

Why at 25, do I still feel insecure and indecisive but at the same time so afraid and defiant about asking my parent's help? "Naan pathukaren" (I will take care of it) has always been my standard response to any questions about my well being or my future plans. How do they not get irritated by this? Now as I think about it with the cold calculation made possible by the lack of seeing eyes around me, especially those of my parents, I can view myself a little from their perspective. And in that view I don't see a very flattering image. I can have no patience with this guy that I am if I were his parent or his brother even. But why is it so easy to overlook these things for them? I am sure this is true for most families. Even my parents, I can understand a little. There is a sense of responsibility in having brought this chaotic being into this disturbing world. It is like a fish laying eggs in the deep depths of the ocean.

But, my brother! What responsibility does he have? Does the mere fact that he was born before me entitle me to his attention? I do not know. I do not understand. I will have to think some more or someone with a little more sense, no actually, a lot more sense has to make me understand. Anna! are you reading this?