Teri batoon main aisa uljha jiya

Have you ever noticed an articulate friend speak of a trivial life situation and make it sound amazingly interesting? I’ve always envied my friends that could carry a conversation with an inanimate object (like a door) and the door in return actually looking engrossed by the conversation. This talent, I disappointingly lack but wish for. One of those useless things in life one doesn’t need but nevertheless desires.

I call a meeting with my closest girlfriend to discuss a certain situation in my life. I figure this is the perfect opportunity to invoke my sleeping (dead) talent and dazzle her with my vast vocabulary. Unwilling to attend a situation unprepared, I even write a little script in my head.

We sit in a café and after the obligatory ‘how are yous; I’m so busy and you’ve been caught up too; so tired all the time, oh you too! Work is killing everyone …’ I start with ‘thank you for coming at such a short notice’. She explains her lack of time and then inquires with a mixture of concern and curiosity ‘why had you made an appointment for a tete-a-tete?’

I tell her that I have spent five hours in a single conversation with an unnamed party and I’m uncertain to where I stand or whether it is working. She listens patiently to my concerns and frugal usage of words and then … and then, yes, she laughs, “If it was a five hour meeting, the chances are it’s working out”, she says. Here is my opportunity to call upon my mastery of words. I, unsuccessfully, make an attempt at corrupting dialogue and exaggerating reality, trying to relay the seriousness of the matter.

“If I don’t do anything about this, I run a risk of suffering the sitting-duck syndrome; I had to do something about it”. She says, “So, you call up an unnecessary meeting and thrash yourself and the other party, all to avoid sitting duck-syndrome – hmmm!” I hate it when she makes sense! Knowing this is the perfect time to cut my losses and give up on the whole ‘wonderful at conversation’ thing, I come clean with her.

I disclose to her my new passion for emotional expression and how I would love to master the art of words … and then, (Damn! Damn! Damn!) I catch her smiling again. What an utter failure, I think. How do I land in these situations? Instead of coming across as an intelligent, competent woman, I have managed to look like a four year old trying on my mother’s shoes.

*sigh* Aware of my disappointment, she pats my hair and says ‘you don’t need to say anything with words darling, your face gives it all away’. Wonderful!! She is excellent at this conversation thing and not even trying. I decide to preserve my energy, thank her for her advice and drive home in utter silence. It suits me better.