Never bullshit a bullshitter.
This is my new personal quote, I swear to god. It made me crack up and it made my entire day. I won't say I'm a master bullshitter, but to be perfectly honest, I BS a lot. Eh, what can I do? I'm an adapt-to-the-situation person. I've always been the kind who really prefers interactions to be kept to the minimum-- anti-social, my mom used to say. In addition to that, I was horribly shy as a kid and all.
However, with my parents' gazillion speeches about the importance of good communication skills, it was only a matter of time before I saw they had a point and started trying to gather enough courage to ask the guy at the counter for more napkins. (Why the heck don't they ever give enough??)
My mission started with a bleh-kersplat. The one thing that kept me going was that I was probably never going to encounter some people in my life again, and therefore I could experiment freely on them without the worry of future consequences. Especially because I was still a kid, and kids are happily excused from conversational and other social faux-pas. I exploited this advantage to, yes, experiment, while conversing with classmates and strangers. There was the rewarding thrill of correctly predicting a reaction to a carefully calculated remark. I got better at it.. and slowly progressed to actually holding conversations for the heck of it.
Parties, especially, were major challenges. So many people all at once. There were aunties and uncles you were expected to greet, small talk to make, kids to entertain, fights to sort out, those horrible moments I had to ask the host for something, like an extra spoon, and finally all the goodbyes and the ride home ('Monica, I didn't even hear you when you said hello to Prashanti aunty..') (Why the heck would she care? She's known us since I was two, and I think she knows when I'm trying to say hello...)
I embarrassed myself, constantly. I'd like to think of them as learning experiences, though... I didn't ever feel like I was dying of mortification. Now I can sit back and laugh and watch me fumbling through the years, leaning back and forth between being me, being quiet, and other times of forced conversation. Things got smoother, eventually... I learnt how to converse without even being interested in the topic. I learnt how to keep bullshitting the other person with a smile on my face. I kept challenging myself the whole way, so it actually was a lot of fun.
Somewhere in between I got over stage fear, and it was then I really began enjoying speaking. The first time I spoke in the assembly was such a fail. A lot of people said they couldn't hear me. Yeah, it was rather disappointing, but I was actually more disheartened at the fact that I wouldn't have another opportunity to speak on stage for a whole year. Next year, I did better. Much, much better. And after that, me and Aditi did a play together every year, so I got many opportunities after that. I also took part in a good number of competitions. 'Took part' is actually a mild term; 'threw myself into' is more appropriate. Courtesy ATM. Believe me, everything I ever did to grow out of my shell was done against my will.
But now, I suppose I'm satisfied with the result. I still have a long way to go, but now I've settled into a nice comfortable little routine of sorts. I don't BS with my closest friends. I'm just as grumpy, or cheerful, or pessimistic, or enthusiastic as I want to be with them at that moment. To be honest, everyone else is just a BS playground. I talk because I must, because it's polite, because I like being a doormat -__-;
Recently someone told me that she knew the 'real' me, because I'm comfortable around her. 0.o I informed her that she didn't, and that I was sorry, and it was me, not her (isn't that the #1 safe break up line? LOL). But seriously, the goofball I am around her is just so not me. Just a part. She's definitely on the BS list, but she prides herself on her sense of judgement... what can I say? She probably won't notice, but after that I mentally closed myself off to her. Now she's on the complete BS list. Pshh.
Lol, I have no idea where this post is going. I just hit 'new post' and typed the first thing on my mind, and it flowed from there. I really don't want to publish it. But then I'd have to answer to Steffie as to why there isn't a new post on my blog this evening.
So I suppose I mentally sort people into different levels of BS-lists. I don't know, I don't do it consciously. Some people, I really enjoy talking to. There are some I just can't tolerate, and yet spend an entire evening with them at a party. BS to the max. There's this one girl I have for company in one of our social circles. The amount of nonsense I talk about with her is astounding; I always come back from those parties feeling dazed and amazed about myself. I think, once, it was Sania Mirza's wedding and the engagement ring of a girl at school getting married to a Telugu superstar (She's 17. Comment and opinion with held). Then of course comes the scandalous Nasr-girls-stories-session (no offence, Piks) and while I can let out the occasional gasp of shock, inside I'm bored to death and even screaming, Do I look like I effing care about random girls screwing around?
Sometimes it feels so much like a fake, fake, double life, I hate it. Other times it feels like a mind game. And small part of me will admit I enjoy playing games.
Then, most importantly, I hate being impolite and politically incorrect. No matter what or who, I always want to be polite. It is top priority. And I avoid airing my views. I just don't like to. It's another reason why I hate writing profiles. I don't like writing about my opinion of myself. I don't like offending people.
In the end, I fit into society a little awkwardly, but with everyone's opinion pointing towards the fact that I'm a bit shy. But I don't need to change what I believe in. what I really think, and what I really do. I may nod when my older cousin explains the wonderfulness of romantic relationships, even add a little BS for practice, but when she's gone, and I'm alone, I'm still me, and I still don't do what I say or say what I do. And so I've found peace with the odd complicated thing called society, which I maintain a love-hate relationship with. Hate it for the double life, for the compulsion to talk and smile, to be fake. Love it for the complexity, for the thrill of experimenting with unimportant relationships. Key word-- unimportant. I would never try the same on my friends; I have not come so far without knowing the value of certain relationships.
Sometimes I think it would be so much easier to be a boy, because 'boys will be boys.' Heck, that excuses any odd behaviour! But one faux-pas and a girl's reputation's at stake. A girl in society, and especially Indian society, must have excellent conversational skills, a bright smile, a pretty face, a slim figure, nice eyeliner, fashion sense, no boyfriend, unique gold jewellery, BS skills... other wise it's all, 'You know ___'s daughter, she is so rude/sulky/ugly/fat/cheap/wears frumpy clothes/is never likely to get married/can never provide a decent dowry.' Suck up to the aunties, call out to them, talk to them, and suddenly they love you. What crap. I hate it all, I hate that they look at my clothes before my face. I hate that somehow in the grand scheme of things, they figure into finding me my 'match'. I hate their dumb daughters, my supposed societal role models. And every time I feel that way all I want to do is leave. It's worse when I have memories of when it wasn't this way (it feels like a freakin' 1930's coming-out ceremony for young girls in Britain). I want to leave this country, this oppressive society with too many social obligations. And the very worst part, I know I can. Leave. Get married, go to America (for who will let me leave before then, being a vulnerable female?). Live it out with good, loving, friends and nice dinner parties, just like the San Diego days. And keep my daughter away living double lives like ours.
But like I said, I won't do as I say. I know the last paragraph was pretty harsh, and only one side of the argument. I'm currently too lazy to write the other part... and I know I don't have such an extreme view on society. There's a part of me that still enjoys the game, and even know it's rather crucial for mental development. And family and society is the unintentionally made backbone to life.
There are many people, especially from Chirec, who look at me and say I'm nice. Nah, I'm not. I'm just as rotten inside, a tad masochistic, one who pastes fake smileys on their face, a liar, a flake, and yet somewhere I know I'm good. Because while the BS is for the rest of the world in general, because of which I get through my life a little smoothly, I know that I'll keep my core values and ideas and thoughts safe with me. And honestly, that assurance takes away all the guilt in deceiving anyone.
And also because I know I like being nice to people. I like helping, I like seeing people smile. I don't like hurting people. It's just the parts where I'm forced to smile that I feel like a flake. A flake among millions? Lol.
To summarize, read my poem, Masquerade Ball. I think it's more effective than all this emotional rubbish, and it's dead on about what I'm rambling about here.
Last link in the chain: Now that I've gotten all that angst out of my system, I feel like 'Wheeeeee!' XD And there's no way I'm not publishing this now. =P
This is my new personal quote, I swear to god. It made me crack up and it made my entire day. I won't say I'm a master bullshitter, but to be perfectly honest, I BS a lot. Eh, what can I do? I'm an adapt-to-the-situation person. I've always been the kind who really prefers interactions to be kept to the minimum-- anti-social, my mom used to say. In addition to that, I was horribly shy as a kid and all.
However, with my parents' gazillion speeches about the importance of good communication skills, it was only a matter of time before I saw they had a point and started trying to gather enough courage to ask the guy at the counter for more napkins. (Why the heck don't they ever give enough??)
My mission started with a bleh-kersplat. The one thing that kept me going was that I was probably never going to encounter some people in my life again, and therefore I could experiment freely on them without the worry of future consequences. Especially because I was still a kid, and kids are happily excused from conversational and other social faux-pas. I exploited this advantage to, yes, experiment, while conversing with classmates and strangers. There was the rewarding thrill of correctly predicting a reaction to a carefully calculated remark. I got better at it.. and slowly progressed to actually holding conversations for the heck of it.
Parties, especially, were major challenges. So many people all at once. There were aunties and uncles you were expected to greet, small talk to make, kids to entertain, fights to sort out, those horrible moments I had to ask the host for something, like an extra spoon, and finally all the goodbyes and the ride home ('Monica, I didn't even hear you when you said hello to Prashanti aunty..') (Why the heck would she care? She's known us since I was two, and I think she knows when I'm trying to say hello...)
I embarrassed myself, constantly. I'd like to think of them as learning experiences, though... I didn't ever feel like I was dying of mortification. Now I can sit back and laugh and watch me fumbling through the years, leaning back and forth between being me, being quiet, and other times of forced conversation. Things got smoother, eventually... I learnt how to converse without even being interested in the topic. I learnt how to keep bullshitting the other person with a smile on my face. I kept challenging myself the whole way, so it actually was a lot of fun.
Somewhere in between I got over stage fear, and it was then I really began enjoying speaking. The first time I spoke in the assembly was such a fail. A lot of people said they couldn't hear me. Yeah, it was rather disappointing, but I was actually more disheartened at the fact that I wouldn't have another opportunity to speak on stage for a whole year. Next year, I did better. Much, much better. And after that, me and Aditi did a play together every year, so I got many opportunities after that. I also took part in a good number of competitions. 'Took part' is actually a mild term; 'threw myself into' is more appropriate. Courtesy ATM. Believe me, everything I ever did to grow out of my shell was done against my will.
But now, I suppose I'm satisfied with the result. I still have a long way to go, but now I've settled into a nice comfortable little routine of sorts. I don't BS with my closest friends. I'm just as grumpy, or cheerful, or pessimistic, or enthusiastic as I want to be with them at that moment. To be honest, everyone else is just a BS playground. I talk because I must, because it's polite, because I like being a doormat -__-;
Recently someone told me that she knew the 'real' me, because I'm comfortable around her. 0.o I informed her that she didn't, and that I was sorry, and it was me, not her (isn't that the #1 safe break up line? LOL). But seriously, the goofball I am around her is just so not me. Just a part. She's definitely on the BS list, but she prides herself on her sense of judgement... what can I say? She probably won't notice, but after that I mentally closed myself off to her. Now she's on the complete BS list. Pshh.
Lol, I have no idea where this post is going. I just hit 'new post' and typed the first thing on my mind, and it flowed from there. I really don't want to publish it. But then I'd have to answer to Steffie as to why there isn't a new post on my blog this evening.
So I suppose I mentally sort people into different levels of BS-lists. I don't know, I don't do it consciously. Some people, I really enjoy talking to. There are some I just can't tolerate, and yet spend an entire evening with them at a party. BS to the max. There's this one girl I have for company in one of our social circles. The amount of nonsense I talk about with her is astounding; I always come back from those parties feeling dazed and amazed about myself. I think, once, it was Sania Mirza's wedding and the engagement ring of a girl at school getting married to a Telugu superstar (She's 17. Comment and opinion with held). Then of course comes the scandalous Nasr-girls-stories-session (no offence, Piks) and while I can let out the occasional gasp of shock, inside I'm bored to death and even screaming, Do I look like I effing care about random girls screwing around?
Sometimes it feels so much like a fake, fake, double life, I hate it. Other times it feels like a mind game. And small part of me will admit I enjoy playing games.
Then, most importantly, I hate being impolite and politically incorrect. No matter what or who, I always want to be polite. It is top priority. And I avoid airing my views. I just don't like to. It's another reason why I hate writing profiles. I don't like writing about my opinion of myself. I don't like offending people.
In the end, I fit into society a little awkwardly, but with everyone's opinion pointing towards the fact that I'm a bit shy. But I don't need to change what I believe in. what I really think, and what I really do. I may nod when my older cousin explains the wonderfulness of romantic relationships, even add a little BS for practice, but when she's gone, and I'm alone, I'm still me, and I still don't do what I say or say what I do. And so I've found peace with the odd complicated thing called society, which I maintain a love-hate relationship with. Hate it for the double life, for the compulsion to talk and smile, to be fake. Love it for the complexity, for the thrill of experimenting with unimportant relationships. Key word-- unimportant. I would never try the same on my friends; I have not come so far without knowing the value of certain relationships.
Sometimes I think it would be so much easier to be a boy, because 'boys will be boys.' Heck, that excuses any odd behaviour! But one faux-pas and a girl's reputation's at stake. A girl in society, and especially Indian society, must have excellent conversational skills, a bright smile, a pretty face, a slim figure, nice eyeliner, fashion sense, no boyfriend, unique gold jewellery, BS skills... other wise it's all, 'You know ___'s daughter, she is so rude/sulky/ugly/fat/cheap/wears frumpy clothes/is never likely to get married/can never provide a decent dowry.' Suck up to the aunties, call out to them, talk to them, and suddenly they love you. What crap. I hate it all, I hate that they look at my clothes before my face. I hate that somehow in the grand scheme of things, they figure into finding me my 'match'. I hate their dumb daughters, my supposed societal role models. And every time I feel that way all I want to do is leave. It's worse when I have memories of when it wasn't this way (it feels like a freakin' 1930's coming-out ceremony for young girls in Britain). I want to leave this country, this oppressive society with too many social obligations. And the very worst part, I know I can. Leave. Get married, go to America (for who will let me leave before then, being a vulnerable female?). Live it out with good, loving, friends and nice dinner parties, just like the San Diego days. And keep my daughter away living double lives like ours.
But like I said, I won't do as I say. I know the last paragraph was pretty harsh, and only one side of the argument. I'm currently too lazy to write the other part... and I know I don't have such an extreme view on society. There's a part of me that still enjoys the game, and even know it's rather crucial for mental development. And family and society is the unintentionally made backbone to life.
There are many people, especially from Chirec, who look at me and say I'm nice. Nah, I'm not. I'm just as rotten inside, a tad masochistic, one who pastes fake smileys on their face, a liar, a flake, and yet somewhere I know I'm good. Because while the BS is for the rest of the world in general, because of which I get through my life a little smoothly, I know that I'll keep my core values and ideas and thoughts safe with me. And honestly, that assurance takes away all the guilt in deceiving anyone.
And also because I know I like being nice to people. I like helping, I like seeing people smile. I don't like hurting people. It's just the parts where I'm forced to smile that I feel like a flake. A flake among millions? Lol.
To summarize, read my poem, Masquerade Ball. I think it's more effective than all this emotional rubbish, and it's dead on about what I'm rambling about here.
Last link in the chain: Now that I've gotten all that angst out of my system, I feel like 'Wheeeeee!' XD And there's no way I'm not publishing this now. =P
5 comments:
Much obliged.
Vairy eenteresting. You really should watch Dexter. At some point, anyway. A lot of it deals (dealt? wow, the last two seasons really weren't that good) with similar stuff.
I enjoyed the part about treating interactions as experiments, because I have the same philosophy. I'll tell you more about that later. I disagree on a lot of the stuff you said, though. Particularly because I started somewhere beyond where you are now, and am now somewhere closer to your origins.
I'll send you a nice long mail some time if you're interested.
Why suck up to society? What's the worst that could happen if you didn't? No one in this tiny corner of the world would like you? No one would marry you? Does that really matter?
Meh. I'll expand on everything soon, if you want me to. No point writing an epic now if it bores you to death.
I realise I'm rambling.
The last two stanzas of your poem have a really nice flow. Typo here:
...His words and eyes delve deeper
Thah others. But all he sees...
Also, 'much more harder' but that sounds intentional.
Anyway, delete this comment when you're done reading it. Turns out I can't.
whoeverisaboveme watches Dexter. That all i read (which by itself is probably bad manners, sorry!) before i decided to type off. I saw the first episode yesterday and almost (i can't remember if i DID) VOWED to watch em all till i couldn't help myself and HAD to find out from someone that he kills Rita. End of desire to watch.
Nah. Not all people who are messed up kill. And not all people fascinated by blood kill either. GO work in a butcher's sucker. (Sorry. I was super emotional about it yesterday, and it pissed me off) Normal people have issues too!
Anyways, EIRA!!!! I feel sooooo much like you. okay, i *used* to. the point it, there ARE people out there who don't give a shit and will not judge you by your shell. I think that's the best lesson I learnt in Chaitanya in a burst of massochism.
So yeah, don't give a shit. I stopped, although i DID lose myself along the way. (Imma FW some texts I sent). Friends are our margins, and they know us, and... i'm rambling.
The superficial world is SICKENING, but yeah, get it all out, (or you'll apparently end up throwing up like I did) and be all happy and kickass.
I WANNA BE A BOY FOR A WHILE.
Maybe.
Secretly.
Could it be?
Seriously.
Myabe not.
I don't KNOW!
UGH!
How come you deleted your FB account just when I reactivated mine? :/
Reply, if just to tell me you're still on the Internet. XD
What the heck? My incredibly long and comparitively cheerful comment wasn't posted? Steffie-I-knew-you'd-like-it and co-polyanna-plague-sufferer, you're forever doomed to be hanging in there without a response. I'm not typing all that again -_- Although you're free to mail me; I might respond with a sudden gush of enthusiasm I'm sure both of you have experienced more than once. =P
@Kaiser: You're back! It's funny that I see your comment now; I just activated my account a few minutes ago and deactivated it in a minute after reading a couple of mails. XD Yes, I'm still on the internet and gmail is my home. Do mail me-- I'm sure you have plenty of news. =]
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