The Mating Game

To procreate is one of the most primal instincts of all sentient beings – from insects to humans.

To satisfy this urge, males (of most species if not all) must prove their worthiness to the female of the species by displays of beauty, strength, skill and derring-do. In the case of humans the expanded list includes wealth, influence, and a range of unquantifiable “desirables”. The tools of the trade range from pheromones, to head butting, to goring competitors to death, right up to making spectacular edifices of marble and gold beaten into pretty shapes put in boxes with “Tiffany’s” written over them. But the rules are simple – find the ability to find a mate or perish in the attempt. Unless, of course, you happen to be an Indian human male.

The underlying reasons behind my lack of facility in this area have always eluded me, so I decided to do an audit. It does seem like I (and some good friends of mine) would appear more capable of at the outset, yet have had sparing or no success as opposed to complete retards that have. The causes behind this can be two-fold – lack of ability or misfortune. Misfortune is too easy, and hard to explain. So let’s take a look at lack of ability.

I think a big reason towards stated failures is that our upbringing puts us at a distinct disadvantage, simply because we know that our parents and family can compensate for our fecklessness. Thus, we are never at a stage where we tell ourselves that we need to do something or spend our lives alone! This, I believe, takes out a major motivating factor and increases pusillanimity.

Faced with the prospect of eternal singledom (sic) and loneliness, a person will tend to take matters in their own hands. This can be done either by being more proactive with choosing a mate or by settling for whatever is available and within one’s grasp rather than feeding the “I can do better” delusion. For instance, I could never see myself racking up the courage to do what the Americans do by striking up conversations with complete strangers in a bar, in a party, in a bus or at work. It is conceivable that things would be different if the situation was more desperate.

I know it seems easy to assign blame, but I know that I (and most aforementioned friends) am not really that bad. Even being modest, I know that I’m intelligent, knowledgeable, funny, witty, a good speaker capable of conversation and debate on a variety of topics and a capable problem solver. On the flip side, I’m also clueless, athletically poorer than a cow, untalented and gullible. But hey, nobody’s perfect, right? ;-)

While there is no lesson to be learnt here, I’d like to believe that I wrote this dispassionate (albeit needless) analysis in interest of starting writing again. I promise that a thesaurus was not used in the construction of this piece!