Generically Handsome

                      You know how it is when some one stares at you .There is that inner 'click' that goes off.You instantly become aware of a pair of eyes that are trained on you.The back of your neck prickles.A freaky 'spidey sense' that all of us have got.You scan the periphery ,
stealthily .You don't want your secret admirer to find themselves being caught in the act
of surreptitiously looking.You want them to enjoy their voyeuristic act , because you too are secretly thrilled at being visually ravished.Ahh..but you can't resist looking .You'd
really love to see that person who has dared to stare at you.

I was at my usual restaurant ,in my usual table,alone, but a bit later
than usual time.For a change I had ordered Malai Kofta and rotis.A family sat in a table
diagonally opposite to mine .It was a usual city type nuclear family -there was the mom
wearing a very inappropriate loud red T-shirt that said "Ageing is an issue of mind over
matter .If you don't mind , it doesn't matter"
Dad looking weary , still wearing his office clothes , all rumpled and crushed by his
daily commute in the ever busy mumbai local .There was a daughter wearing pink and white
horizontally striped Polo T-shirt with blue straight jeans.She looked like a typical meek
girl , wearing cliched librarian tortoiseshell glasses and a meek oil slicked pony tail.
It was the daughter that set off my day's introspection.She started to
stare at me.It was kinda weird.She was a kid , probably seven to eight years younger than
me.Too young for me even to consider anything , let alone act on it .When I tried to make
eye contact with her , she would look at her feet and cement her eyes there.After a while
I'd catch her again staring at me.This time , I did not try to look directly at her.I used  my peripheral vision .It was clear .She was gawking at me , continuously.It even disrupted
her mom , enough to get her mom curious .Now she and her mom were staring at me .But her mom didn't find me intersting for long.She shook her head and then continued picking at her
plate (I think she was eating chinese fried rice) , but the little girl continued to stare.

        I know I'm not very handsome .I've long ago accepted it as my fate.I have wavy hair that
never obeys any comb , gel , spray or mousse ,and  a freckled face , my skin breaks out
frequently and is prone to blackheads , a huge nose , drooping bags under both eyes , a
high fore head and peeling lips.Mom told me I'd never be a heartthrob if I ever went acting
, but to tell you the truth , i never had any thespian aspirations.

I was an Okay-looker , a chalega boy , a guy with generic handsome-ness but just
so only.

But what about the daughter ? How was she , you would ask me , because even
though I described her as meek looking , she was still beautiful .There were moments when
her face literally lit up , and beauty flashed through .I guess its my weakness that I
that I find everyone beautiful.Everyone is beautiful in their own way .A heart warming
smile , a nose thats that is hooked just the right way , soft warm hands , that little
wrinkle between the eyebrows when the person smiles.It's a talent that I've got .I can spot
beauty in any person within seconds.

What did this girl see in me ?
I look at myself in the mirror , and attempt to answer my own question.I guess i am
generically handsome , a person who is actually a blank template of a face.I've had people
come up to me , calling me by different names

"Arre Roshan , how are you yaar ?"

or

"Oye karan singh ! ruk oye ! idhar toh aaa !".

All these people were convinced that they had found the right person.There were others who
were not so sure.They would simply stare , not able to entirely convince themselves whether
they were right or wrong.I believe my face is a bklank template , upon which an onlooker
could fill any qualities his mind desired- if you wanted to see a long lost brother , you
would see it in me , or a funny cousin who cracked one too many jokes or even a person who
had once stirred your soul and got away with it.It was generic handsomeness, the kind that
never stood out in a crowd , my face evoked a sense of deja-vu , the kind that vaguely
reminded you of someone in your life , but not really distinct.

I was amused , also intrigued.

What was her story?

The girl who stared at me ...

"I once had a boyfriend who looked just like you .He had to move out of town , and then he

completely forgot about me.I can't bear to forget him " I imagined her telling me her

story. .

But my reverie had come to an end .I had eaten 3 rotis and a Handi full of Malai Kofta.

"Check Please !" I called out to the waiter , looking at her with my peripheral vision .She
was no longer staring at me.Was she convinced finally that I was not who she thought
was? There was little I could decipher from her downcast eyes shielded by her librarian
glasses.At that moment , she was still absently picking at her food.I had to move on .