I often see people staring blankly ‘in’ the face of a beautiful person… Sometimes the gaze makes you wonder, are they really ‘leching’? Not to condone such behavior, but it makes you wonder, what is going through these people’s heads?
They aren’t even conscientious of their act. It is as if they are not there. Their vacant gaze seem to come from the wall behind, as if they have merged in the background and they are nothing but a pair of eyes, the only connection between here and a world inside their heads. uncanny.
Why does a person fly away momentarily out of the real world when their gaze land on the face of a beautiful person? It is as if their gaze is always in search of a portal to their inner world. And it gets unlocked only by the sight of a beautiful face. Why else does one compulsively checkout faces of others in a crowded subway? We are forever in search of the key to our flight.
An average face in the sea of variety. A plateau in the hills. A smoothed pebble in the real world of rocks and sponges. and so on.
My theory is,
A face with conventional beauty is beautiful because the others can project their perspectives on such faces without jarring the reality. The average face very well may be of an average person. But given such a canvas we can’t help but paint it with mystery and possibilities.
We welcome people with beautiful faces in our conversations or smiles because their face is the ultimate screen for our fantasies to play out. The welcome is an appeal to authority. In a manner of speaking, through these screens, we try to communicate with a higher power. We perceive the audience to be bigger than it is, wondering who else behind the screen might listen to what we have to say. We want them to remain mysterious, so we listen less and talk more or see without listing.
And that’s why ‘dumb blonde’ was born. Dumbness is quite democratic. Dumb people exist among all races, all genders, all cultures and so on. But dumb utterance by a person with beautiful appearance is jarring. It crashes you back from a reverie to the real world with a certain unpleasant thud.
“Jevan zala? Kay khallas? ”
(Did you eat? What did you eat for dinner?)
Phone lines across the world are clogged with concerns of lovely people. In absence of real intimacy, families and lovers resort to questionnaire of food intake and bowel movements. In absence of touch they want to ensure the mortal vessels of the their loved ones are well taken care of.
The questions are not an exercise in inanity. They are expressions of love.
2. Food fetish
Idle chat at office lunch tables, conversations with acquaintances…
Across the world, (perhaps the upper middle class world that is not currently being destroyed by wars and proxy wars) people are filling the space between burps and bites with conversations of food and restaurants.
The virus of foodieitis is spreading faster than Ebola. Everybody see themselves as foodies. A virus that hollows out the brain of thoughts about anything but indulgent excesses. For the afflicted person, excess is desirable. excess is exciting. excess is a way of life.
Food doesn’t cure hunger; it affirms their identity; it renews their unnatural desire towards consumables. It a love affair gone too far, too weird.
and yet, because it suits the new economy, it’s the new virtue for the herd with low expectations. Consumption has become art. connoisseurs are the new pandits of this ritual of junk workship. It is narcissism projected inwards. (to the stomach.)
3 years ago, everybody wanted to be a photographer. Now everyone wants to be food porn maker. Food that looks out-of-this-world and very well might be, in all probability made from cardboard and motor oil.
Food that never satisfies, but yet that never ceases to be desirable.