Chit chatting away

I’m not what people call the social kind. I’m more of a…

…selective-social introvert.

It means I don’t like going out in large parties, or to large parties.

It means I’m uncomfortable with more than three people in a group.

It means I prefer being alone in my room than being lonesome in a crowd.

Most of all, I don’t mind people knowing that I’m not a people-person.

As a result, I stayed away from social media, too. I’d always found it too noisy, too spontaneous, and too narcissistic. Until I discovered Twitter chats.

I’d signed up for Twitter six years ago, but for more than five years, I made only feeble attempts at understanding how it works. And then one day, I had to analyse and evaluate Twitter for my work. As I combed through their documentation and scanned popular accounts, I discovered the wonder that is Twitter chats.

It seemed promising — a closed group of people discussing issues that mattered to them. That seemed like a purposeful way to spend time on social media, unlike the posting of selfies and sharing of love-struck statuses my friends did.

Though not all together certain, I joined my first chat. The sheer number of people who contributed to the conversation surprised me. As soon as the first question came on, a bunch of people replied in kind. Funny, enthusiastic, helpful, share-worthy responses piled up. As I read through them, I realised I could contribute something as well. I had a point that no one else had mentioned yet, and I felt an irksome desire to say it out. After all, these were people in my industry speaking their own experiences. It’s fair for me to do the same.

And I typed out my perspective. Within seconds people liked and retweeted my tweet. They replied, they agreed, and some even followed up with questions. The more I shared my ideas, the more conversation I generated. I realised I knew stuff that people thought were valuable. I knew tricks of the trade I didn’t know I knew. It was exciting. Twitter was exciting for the first time in five years! Social media, for once, was social to me.

That chat hooked me right in. From that day forward, I try my best to make it every time the chat happens. Every week, more and more people join in. But I never feel the crowd bearing on my shoulders. Instead, it’s fun to have more people in the discussion. Sure, sometimes my feed floods with hundreds of tweets even before I can read a handful of replies and answer a question, but it’s still useful, engaging, and welcoming as ever.

What began at one chat transcended beyond the one. When I began to participate in many chats, I realised there were others who showed up for particular chats every week. I started to see familiar faces, and I started making friends.

I’d become social. At least on social media.

— — — — — — —

Do you hang around Twitter chats? How do you like it? If you’re interested, come say hello @s_narmadhaa.

Dreamer

Corporates had lured Kamal since high school. Observing suited men and women stride into glass-decked buildings, he’d yearned to join them. Watching them drive away in Audis, he’d envisioned driving his parents, the construction workers, in a posh car.

With ambition for impetus, he chose engineering. Strove hard, outperforming himself every year. And entering a multinational company as employee, he’d sensed himself realising his dreams.

— — —

Four years on and Kamal still pays dues. With his meagre savings he’d own a second-hand Vento in three years. Dreaming of a corporate career, he’d miscalculated the costs of an education loan.

All in a day’s work

It was the year’s fifth meeting. HR manager, Jay, was inducting new recruits, a wide grin stretching on his otherwise unremarkable, freckled face. He waited while the group shuffled, some excited, some anxious, and some adjusting chairs. When they’d settled, he unlocked his arms, leaning on the table, instead.

“Welcome!”His eyes moved from one to another. They returned his toothy grin. Over the next hour, his ecstatic voice described the corporate guidelines. And as they exited, his voice resounded: “Good luck!” Jay’s grin disappeared as soon as the door shut.

Corporate hiring had become mushrooming—in thousands, disgusting and useless.

Aloneness

Leaving the glass building, Daniel had had enough. After nine hours of working with people of varied heights and styles, he was drained of energy. He burned up in his leather suit and burned out at work. He needed a retreat.

Loosening his tie, he sat with his laptop and a bottle of wine. He hunted destinations far from the corporate porthole called life. Pinning a comfortable cottage in North Canada, he set off on his solo adventure.

Happy away from small talk, he spotted a solitary reaper in the lush Canadian valley.

He wondered, Should I chat with her?