Distance...

The amount of 'closeness' quotes present in the www simply amazes me! Now, these poets; they are in love, and all is forgiven in love and war. (or is it? :-O)

But let us try to deconstruct the concept of closeness.

Taking leaves from my experience, I have always respected a person more, the further he is away from me.

Like any other boy, I have constantly yearned for appreciation from my father. I would probably never admit to him, but directly or indirectly(mostly the latter), he has made me strive for excellence in more than one way. Whenever I stood first in a class, or won a debate competition, I used to wait in breathless anticipation for that terse "Good Job!" or a "Not bad!" that came from his mouth. The intensity of joy that gave me impacted me ore profoundly than from the huge crowds applauding me on actually receiving the prize. I remember the days when I used to gauge his mood as he returned from work and leverage any good news either as a distress buster or as an icing on the cake. I couldn't sleep at nights on those occasions when he used to be proud enough of me to take me out for dinner or for toys!

It maybe that my father was not that kinda guy who showed affection openly. Maybe all dads are like this in varying degrees. I am no one to judge. But I turned out alright, didn't I? And I can say now in introspection that my constant yearning to be noticed by him came more from his being aloof in matters concerning me.

Now, I live in another city and we visit only occasionally. I am now in a position to say that I am better at some things than he is! But even now, our meetings involve me trying to project myself and my achievements in a more favorable light. The content has changed. Grades in school have now been replaced by sound investment decisions or awards at work. But the goal remains the same! I realize with surprise that I still relish a favourable valuation from him! This makes me feel good!

Don't get me wrong. My mother's unconditional love has been my support structure and it continues to be. She's my friend, my confidante and my inspiration, but I am not in awe of her. I love to see her pride and elation in me as I announce any good news about me to her, but this warmth lacks the delirious ebullience that I get from my father's reaction.

Relational dynamics is so complex and skewed, ain't it?

A fathers' example is too generic. Let's take a different perspective. I have been majorly influenced in my taste of western music by some friends of mine. Let's call these guys 'Venkat', 'Wulfi', 'Vijay' and so on. They were by my side and were always one step ahead of me in terms of music during my formative years. So in these matters, I have always looked up to them.

Now, we have parted; we have gone our separate ways. I daresay, I have matured quite a bit in my musical tastes, and I'm sure they have too. But whenever I fall in love with a great song, I still think of them. Have they listened to this band? Do they even know about this gem of a song? I still look up to them and sometimes even hope that they take my musical tastes seriously at least now! I doubt if this respect I have will ever go away.
Now, from what I can fathom, it is the distance between us that seems to have strengthened this respect.

Again, why only me? Let me take a great man's example.

It is not common knowledge that Napoleon Bonaparte constantly used to think 'What is Paris thinking'?
All his actions were driven by these words. He was ever eager to know if France was happy and proud with his exploits. He was keen on living up to their expectations, which he tried to manifest by going on conquests. He was halfway around the world, but his mind was in Paris, wondering whether a new conquest made him look better in the eyes of his people in France, whether his French subjects were gratified with the size and might of the French dominion.
It's a different matter that he is now perceived as a tyrant and a maniacal emperor, besides the point.

But if he KNEW what Paris was thinking through the internet and daily newspaper circulation, would he still have the fire to conquer the world? If he knew that the French probably never really cared about the extent of their dominion and that they were simply worried about their next meal or in perfecting their kiss, would the zeal still be there?

So, I guess I believe in the adages,

Familiarity breeds contempt.
Abscence makes the heart grow fonder.

What do the lovers know? Love is blind anyway.

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