Me?

This story has been printed in the Book Canadian Voices Volume 2

Eavesdropping, though not my profession, is my favourite pastime. Unlike most people who like spending their free time daydreaming, I prefer to be an eavesdropper. I feel I learn most about myself, by observing myself in relation to others.

At work I eavesdrop on conversations of a group of ladies who think themselves to be out of reach of the normal person. This ‘elite’ group consists of women who are usually cold to anyone who is not a part of their friend circle. As hard as I try, I cannot see myself a member of this group. I lack the tact it takes to ridicule not only others but their own friend circle.

These women pretend to live the smooth controlled, trouble-free existence, where which nail –polish to wear is the biggest problem of their lives. How can I accept that a life like that exists? Besides that, as much as I try, I cannot learn to appreciate my painted face. The remainder of my adolescent years… those few pimple marks, make me feel more prettier than any lipstick or eye shadow would. I guess, I don’t belong to this set of women.

During lunch hour I prefer eating at a restaurant near my office, where the food is edible cheap but most importantly—interesting. A regular visitor, like me, is a group of 3 girls who prefer this restaurant to their college canteen. All they ever talk about is there is the love of their life…a movie actor. Each of their faces light up when they read a new article about him. They spend most of their time quarrelling over a man who they might never see let alone talk to.

Why do you love him so much, I once got the courage to ask one of them. She looked at me in such disbelief, was it not obvious? He is very good at what he does…infact ‘ the best’. Acting is a profession, right? So why is it that the plumber, postman or the dentist …who are also good at their jobs, do not attract these girls’ attention?

I got the privilege to meet this fellow, courtesy a journalist friend, at a popular website. I had to feel all the excitement those girls felt while merely talking about him. I had thought my face would light up like their did each time they saw a new photograph of their idol. Ironically as hard as I tried to get that reaction I just couldn’t.

My heart didn’t thump any faster nor did I skip a heartbeat, at the sight of their idol. All I saw infront of me was a man …a normal man with a fatuous smile on his face. Even when he sat next to me for the photograph my journalist friend was insistent on having taken…I felt nothing.

How am I to feel anything for a man I really do not know? My curiosity had placed me beside him not any emotion. Maybe I have outgrown the Mills &Boons stage of my life…

Quite contrary to my lunch companions are my travel companions. As I travel along these other set of women on my way home in the overcrowded bus, I learn of the latest in music & fashion. These girls are the milder versions of the ‘elite group’ as they let anyone join in, as long as they are fashionable, have an absurd accent as well as fool themselves into believing that they are the centre of every one else’s world. They are loud & their activities arise much needed entertainment for all us fellow travellers.

I have sincerely tried to appreciate their music( which I can’t understand more than the initial 2 lines-ever), their choice in boy friends ,their fashions , and their jokes all-- I can’t seem to understand. The concept of ‘small in size-big in price’ clothes that they wear also confuses me.

Just when I think I have learnt the way to live , my life changes. When expected to feel a portion of the excitement , I knew the star-struck girls would feel, I felt –nothing.

I actually learnt the lyrics of the new Jennifer Lopez song…but it did nothing to my soul. Fancy clothes & painted faces make me feel like an object put on display rather than an individual.

I can’t see myself as the shy-obedient kind either. I think but I am not a thinker. I believe in religion but I am not religious. I like movies but I am not a movie buff. So who am I?

Will I ever belong to a specific group? What group does the other person place me in? can a group & its members be termed as good or bad? are we all just different? Why is it that I desire to be some one else?

The most powerful desire within me is to be more than I am now, at this moment. I want to be more, learn more, grow more & experience more . Is that the reason I push myself into being some one else? Is that how, in seeking to be someone else, makes me realize more of what I want to myself to be? Is seeking them releasing the ‘me’ inside of me?