Category: Thoughts uncut

Discovery

I hate mobs. They make me nervous. Even as I think about it, my heart bangs in its cage and my legs start to tremble threatening to give way at any moment. And speaking in front of a gathering is awful. Give me a mike and put me under the spotlight, and I’ll be reduced to a slump.

Or, at least, that’s what I thought it would be like.

In school and at work, I’ve had to explain something to a bunch of people. But every time that happens, I freak out so much that my speech loses all sense. And that’s why I was beyond “just nerves” when I heard I’d have to conduct a session in a workshop at my job.
To complicate things, I already knew a bit about my audience: they were all stay-at-home married women. Some had kids, some had more time. Most of them were single- or double-degree holders on a break after marriage. And all of them were at least 10 years older than I. Talk about intimidation.

I needed several deep breaths. And a few gulps — of air.

How would I explain something to them without coming off as a young and insufferable know-it-all? I had so many doubts; people hated contradictions, and a school kid telling older women what to do, isn’t most people’s idea of an ideal workshop. They would’ve expected somone much older-looking, taller, and experienced to conduct an educational workshop.

And yet, when I stood in front of the audience, the glare from the projector almost blinding me, the uncertainty disappeared from my mind. All of a sudden, I was looking at a bunch of people eager to learn; they didn’t care that my head, while I stood, was at their eye while they sat.

Clutching the mike, I, for the first time, felt confident facing a crowd. I was calm. My legs were steady, my heartbeat didn’t sound like a siren, and my pulse wasn’t racing. I began, and I felt myself smiling. I realised how easy it felt. It felt natural talking to these women who wanted to learn and to listen. And then, out of nowhere, I discovered I had matured so much from the shy and cowering schoolgirl I was until a few years ago.

I had grown up at last. And for once, all was well.

Women’s Day?

Where I live, it’s the day after Women’s Day. It’s the last day to redeem discount coupons for beauty products and the final chance to feel “special” before we can feel it again next year.

What a scam women’s day has become. Last year this time around, my Facebook feed flooded with hashtags. He for she, she for all, woman of steel, wonder woman, girl power, and all those goosebumps-inducing supposed-motivational videos, plus “25 quotes from Malala that makes every girl love herself.”

Fast forward a year, and this time, my feed says hashtag whatever. My feed is full of women holding cards that echo the same emotion: we’re tired of glorifying women for a day and trashing them through the rest of the year.

Well, I can sympathise with that.

Except, all these against-Women’s Day hoopla come from corporates, and people just retweet or repost them, making it a marketing success for the brands involved.

Whereas until a year ago, the same brands flashed stereotypical “women are the best” campaigns, and we retweeted and reposted them then too. Last year that worked. This year, brands wanted a new kind of campaign and they chose a more “be bold everyday” message.

If celebrating women on Women’s Day was the marketing ploy of yesteryear, shunning Women’s Day celebrations is the marketing ploy of this year.

And lost in all these ploys is the true essence of Women’s Day: where we dedicate a day in our calendars to thank women for being a part of our lives, wishing each other all success in years to come. It’s no different from Labour Day, Mothers’ Day, Fathers’ Day, or Teachers’ Day. Or even Children’s Day.

Women’s Day is yet another of those social days where we take a moment to appreciate women. Nothing’s wrong with that. What’s wrong, though, is what the biggest brands of our capitalist world have transformed this day into. Gender disparity at work and home is a common issue. Just like teachers being respected less over scientists. Just like child abuse, or less-than-minimum wages.

We seldom make a marketing blast connecting low wages with Labour Day. Or child labour with Children’s Day (thought that’s becoming a trend now). Or abortions with Mothers’ Day.

But Women’s Day has been beaten to death, and somewhere along the way, the sincere thought of appreciation is lost forever.

Modern Talk

lol

English, for me, is a second language. A lot of the things that come as instinct for native speakers come to me only if I’m attentive and careful. And every day, every time I speak, I strive to get to right. I consider it my worst nightmare if I make a silly mistake that I know I shouldn’t have. And that obsession has made me who I am today: a sucker for proper grammar. Whenever I hear someone misuse grammar rules and diction, it makes me recoil in horror.

Nowadays, though, people seldom speak with context. It’s all just text-speak. Consider Lol, TGIF, and ROLF. To me they’re just random letters put together, but to a lot of people, these are essential words in a conversation. Even without much of an effort, these words have crept into our everyday communication. HashtagReality. And anyone who doesn’t know the meaning of these words are old-fashioned and unfit for the age of the social media, where people speak face to face like they speak on Facebook walls.

Facebook, in particular, has kindled this rise of new words and trends. So much so that, “facebooking” has become a verb and “friending” someone on Facebook is an actual action. Earlier, when someone moved into town they’d say, “I’ll make friends.” Now, though, “I’ll friend you.” Friend has become an easier term, a more ‘natural’ verb. On a side note, though, if anyone ever says that to me, they’ll never be my friend. I’ll accept their request on Facebook, but will never consider them a friend. Which leads me to say, Facebook has decimated our language in such a way, that even “friend” doesn’t mean “friend” anymore.

Here’s the weird part, though: A lot of people don’t even know that there’s another word for “friending.” A word that’s been around even before Facebook came into the picture. It’s almost as if people don’t remember the word, “Befriend” anymore. I think it’s a beautiful word. It fits the situation, and we should use it to say we’re adding someone as a friend on Facebook. I don’t see why people choose to cut out two letters of the word — which are not even prefixes — for no proper reason. Maybe this lack of basic knowledge is what’s making us a dumber generation. We only know words that appear on our Facebook feed and news that show up under the Trending section. We neither think beyond that nor do we explore further than that.

The way our current world works, if we don’t know the proper word for something, we can create another. It’s fine to create words at will. Will Shakespeare did it, we’d argue. After all, the main purpose of language is to communicate with each other. As long as the other party understands what we’re trying to say, we can speak in any way we like — that’s the modern mentality. And the reality is that I can’t say it’s wrong.

What I can say, though, is that just because “lol” is shorter and more common than “That’s funny” or “Good one, Bess” it doesn’t mean we should use them all the time. It’s time we paid some attention to our language because we’ve taken it so much for granted, that it’s losing its essence. “Befriend” gone unnoticed is just the start.

There’s a reason English has prevailed throughout the years. We still have 400 year-old Shakespearean words etched deep in our lives. Well, we don’t have to use them in our everyday speaking; we don’t have to adhere to Elizabethan English. However, even though we can’t uphold the traditional recipe for communication, the least we can do is respect it. We should at least know what’s available to us, and use them when we can. Because no matter how much we advance in technology, we are naught if we let the subtleties of our languages disappear in a wave of text-speak.

Work Lunch

‘Hey, what do you think of that guy’s shirt?’

Which one? Oh, that tall, dark, almost-bald man wearing a pinstriped shirt that enhances his already-large belly?

“Er — nothing.”

‘Ok. How about that girl’s skirt? I mean who wears long skirts to work anymore, huh?’

Anyone who wants to, I guess. After all, some people find skirts are comfortable to move around in. I don’t, of course, but that doesn’t mean I comment on those who prefer skirts.

“I’ve seen a lot of people wear skirts.”

‘Oh. Is that so? I didn’t know…’ She trails off, looking around for someone else with an interesting attire.

Lunch, for me, was a constant affair of awkward shifting and stuffing my food as fast as I could. The longer I lingered at a table, the more chances I had of meeting someone I’d just ended a meeting with. And lunch hall meetings were different from conference hall meetings; they were smaller talk, more jovial. We’d just talk about women’s skirts and men’s shirts.

And as one topic ends, another blooms uninvited.

‘So listen to this. Last weekend, I was cleaning my cupboard and guess what I found? Oh, don’t just shrug. Take a guess.’

Well, judging from your pungent shirt, I’d say you found a bag of unused mothballs.

“No idea. Tell me,” I’m dying to know, in fact.

She smiles, showcasing her whitened teeth. I should’ve known what was to come.

‘Money! With a note, from the tooth fairy. You know, I love Vic. He does the cutest things. He knows I’ve wanted to get my teeth whitened for a long time. And he knows I’d never make it a priority — what with all the new house we’re buying and all that.’ She waves her hand in an offhand way, like it doesn’t matter.

Ok. So for the last half hour, you’ve built up a conversation just to tell me you’ve whitened your teeth, and you’re buying a house. Brilliant. It’s just my idea of a noon-time interaction.

“Ah. That’s nice.” I smile in return, flashing my average-white teeth. I don’t believe in tooth fairies. “I’m full. Aren’t you?”

A Road Trip to Remember

Road trips are the best. For me, they bring out my most weird inclinations. Like, for instance, stooping down to the ground for picture of the sand or climbing onto the bonnet of the car to pose for a portrait. But at the end of the day when I look at myself in the mirror, I see more than sand-smeared knees and a dust covered-face. I see the shadow of a smile of satisfaction that only a road trip can leave behind.

road-trip