Awkward dates, where I may like someone, but struggle to strike a conversation with the person, is when I am at my worst. My brain freezes. Thoughts, ideas, and words refuse to come out. And if they do, they tend to be incoherent, inadequate, and idiotic. Boy, do I get lexical constipation!

Soon I am asked, “Why are you lost?” or, “What happened? Did I do something wrong?”, “Do you find me boring?”

Once you are in the interrogatory territory, you already lost it. You are going to be doubted, endearingly cussed – Aw, fuck you! Are you shy? Come let’s take a selfie – and if you maintain your indifferent demeanour, then soon abandoned; buh-bye!

The thing is, people may like a quiet fellow, but not someone who is indifferent and unpredictable. I get that. If I were them, I would hate me too. But because I am not them, and because I am me, if I met someone who chooses indifference over mediocre, mindless, and heartless bantering, I would get that too.


Because at times I turn into an amused sculpture while listening to someone with substance speak without an iota of arrogance. If you have it, don’t show it and I will still notice it. And once I notice it, I will be quiet. Because I will be mesmerized and insecure. Mostly mesmerized.

Not many people have a captivating cadence in their voice, a great deal of lexical resources and superior brains for comprehension. But the ones who have a good amount and combination of these, make me go quiet.

Mutism isn’t even a problem then. Although yes, I may bring it upon myself to say something preposterous under the pressure of continuing the conversation. But that’s on me. All I must blame is myself. I most likely will bomb in front of you. And if I bombed, I will not claim I didn’t, or I did. I am not a terrorist organization. I don’t want the negative attention.

I don’t want to sound like I am better than everyone else or that I come from a lineage of charismatic conversationalists who only bond over topics that involve a certain level of knowledgeable pretence. I don’t. In fact, if you ever met me in person, you would be ridiculously disappointed by how ordinary and incompetent I sound, and how subpar my worldview is. And yet, I have the audacity to comment on what repels me in a person and what appeals to me – just like everyone else does. It’s my version of the truth. In which, harmless and petty contempt is often just a by-product of boredom and uncongeniality. And uncongeniality comes from the core of self-imposed mutism.



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