Story of a lost journalist

October 1, 2010

Detached

Filed under: Personal — Cris @ 01:19

Being liked is a gift. Some people have it, many dont. I am yet to figure out which category I belong to. One family I recently interviewed tell my friend, who introduced me, that I was an angel. Another was little pleased with my communication skills and kept it no secret.

I am naturally shy. But I tend to become wild and totally unruly when I am in comfortable circles. This includes some friends and acquaintances, and occasionally strangers I connect with easily. I try chanting this mantra ‘be yourself’ whenever I find those nervous signs in me. Rarely work though.

I wonder what it is that actually makes one like another? Say at the first meeting. I judge too, – though not consciously – and form impressions, that become hard to change later. But I have no clue what it is that actually forms this I-like or I-do-not-like impressions. For me, sure put-offs are hypocrisy, no regard for truth, artificiality – well all are one and the same. I think I can even tolerate arrogance cause it is real. But hypocrisy, I can’t. Say only if you mean it, laugh only if you feel like, emote only if it is from the heart. Why pretend otherwise?

As I am growing older, I am afraid I am getting detached. I remember connecting to people easier in my younger days. Now somehow there is this safe distance that creeps in. Does it happen with maturity? Or do I give out an unfriendly air about me that distances people from me? No, they don’t disappear at the sight of me, they don’t avoid me. I am talking about the intimacy factor. I have my list of close friends – but they are all from a long time ago, spare one or two. With most others, it is I-see-n-talk-to-you-cos-you-are-here. The moment we are out of sight of each other, we completely forget of the other’s existence.

If you ask me if I am sad about it, well yes, a little bit. I miss something from the old days. Something I used to have but not anymore. I first related it to age. People I interact with are mostly younger to me so they’d prefer other younger ones. But no. Older people too dont get close. Some even seem to respect me! Little ol’ me!

So it has something to do with the unfriendly air I mentioned before. I give it out knowingly or otherwise. Not a hostile one, no. But the obvious I-would-only-get-this-close-so-stay-away one. For instance, I don’t talk anything personal with any of my recently-made acquaintances. I dont purposely avoid it. It somehow doesnt come to me. Even when others open their lives to me, I dont get urged to share mine. Not that I am someone with the deepest darkest secrets buried in me. But whatever is in, is in. I dont seem to like the idea of it going out.

My colleague asks sometimes if I am one of those wont-express-emotions types. Maybe I am. Except sheer joy, I dont prefer exposing any other emotion. My face wont help all the time. If I dont like something, the eyes shrink, the smile fades, the whole demeanour dulls. If I do, the cheeks bounce up and down, the hands fly high and I go on a galloping ride. I dont have control over that. But otherwise, I think I am quite a personal person – meaning I am quite possessive about my personal stuff. I dont like sharing those with anyone else. I even enjoy the secrecy of it all. It is a private joke, or a private worry only I can have. No one else. I sound like it is some kind of sought-after treasure.

Oh well when you see the length of the post growing larger every second, and the scroll bar comes alive, you know it is time to switch off your outpour. So searching for the stop button in my mind’s keyboard, and leaving quite abruptly. That’s nice too.

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