“I wish my daughter had features like yours.” She said to me.
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling so fondly at her.
Why? I asked myself. I’m not a tolerator of bizarreness. The way she complimented me was not bizarre but definitely weird!
But was it my chore to sit their dissecting every word of her sentence? Do I know if her daughter is ugly? Am I sure if I am very beautiful? It could have been extremely simple, maybe she pictured a face cut in her head for her daughter and I fit her imagination. I did not wit back at her sarcastically like I always do at everyone who says weird things to me.
Knowing me, my close acquaintance would have predicted a reaction. But somehow, my mental reflexes behaved the way they should. Not like an adult, but like a grownup.
My subconscious realized instantly, that all this years of retorting swiped off the impression I leave of myself in gatherings. I look calm, composed, collected (a few words that have been used for me) and surely, this was not how I wanted to look. Somehow I began to feel that my disability also makes me look vulnerable.
My perspective has changed with time, the society is stagnant.
No matter what I try and how hard I try, beauty will always lie in the eye of the beholder. When I am a quiet observer, people could think I’m Calm. Or they could think I’m socially awkward.
When I’m chirpy, people may think I’m bubbly and cute. And then I could end up looking the awkward girl stumbling over her words. The socially inept kinds.
Now, will my saying anything change mindsets?
Sometimes, my own judgment of the public portrayal of myself could differ from what people think of me.
I sometimes get very awkward around people. When I said this to a friend, she said “you are not awkward in public at all”. She put a strong stress on the “please” after that.
I like how I look. I have lots of good in my head. Lots of evil too. What I really am doesn’t show to the world.
A crazy, silly male friend once commented “you are readable. But do you think I am?” and then he went on to finish his silly verdict of himself with a big, long “nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo”. I swear he sounded like a father reacting to his child’s midnight ice-cream cravings. If you’re reading this, Ralte, you’re so cute. Hilarious too! And consider this post as an answer to your readability of me.
No one is readable unless you talk of yourself. This reminds me of someone who commented on someone else. “Sai, X did not tell me you are here. You get to know what’s happening in her life – her new pair of funky glasses, her newly made friends, her budget of the month. So surprising how she didn’t talk of you.”
Okay? I certainly received the negative vibe. And I had no response.
I will only respond to what concerns me. Or better yet, what affects me the way it shouldn’t. And the rest?
Some aren’t my battles to fight. There are places I shouldn’t interfere.
Accepted.
Because the lady’s compliment concerned me and I do not know if she was being mean to her daughter. The friend X had a comment passed at her behind her back and I couldn’t figure if it was snide or not. But I kind of knew my friend X is somewhat like that. And should I react to things I’m unsure of?
I don’t intend to be the audience surrounded by evil. I will not restrain myself from vocalizing my opinions in the necessitous second. But I will not question what is petty and make the interaction awkward for me and the person I’m talking to and the people around us.
Lesson learned.
At the writers meet last Sunday, we were asked to free write on change. And the carefree piece I wrote made me think of my life and what strikes as a noticeable change in the recent.
My temperament, I concluded.
And after a long while of being writer- blocked, I realized, just any post won’t do justice to my blog.
Coming up with so much more.
