Small Talk. “Hi, What’s up? How’s college? Yep, Let’s catch up soon!”
Virtual demons have literally killed our conversation. Whatsapp, Instachats, Snapchats and other zillions of chat mediums thrive with zero conversational context.
I genuinely think those days were better when we used to write letters (or e-mails!) and wait for another week to get a reply. It wasn’t instant, but it was worthy. I have my mum’s old letters exchanged with her best friends. They talked about weather (and it’s funny how a week later you’d still imagine it raining), their memoirs of yesterday, their dreams and inhibitions. They’d patiently wait for another week to know what’s on the other side. It wasn’t about what’s happening. It was about getting to know each other while uncovering the layers of diffidence . They discussed life, love and dreams over a piece of paper.
…20 years later we are in a social opera.
The world knows our daily diaries- where did we have lunch (#iamguiltyofthis), with whom, what did we do, what did we wear (ootd/ootn) and all that jazz. Sadly, due to this social exchange of “daily-diaries” people feel that they are in touch, and maybe they don’t need to ‘talk‘. ‘Cause come on, I know what’s up with you. Thanks to the social opera again (social media is too run-of-the-mill), we make ourselves look so occupied and assume the same for others.But honestly, I feel, deep inside all of us crave a good session of coffee-conversation.
[Coffee conversations– usually occur in college days, with two or three people sitting under a tree, sipping cappuccino/chaai and talking over matters of heart and mind; often accompanied by ALL the time in the world].
But now we don’t have the time. And so, we move and dodge ourselves from one task to another and reach the bed unsatiated. Why is it so difficult to talk about things which really matter? Our conversations have become so confined. They do not carry a sense of value anymore. I am really not interested in hearing the stories 1000 people in your friend list already know – the job you left, the pub you had a crazy party last Saturday or your tales of sneak outs. I do not want to talk about the mainstream. I don’t want a haste-up meeting where you are always distracted by your watch, words slipping from your mouth in a rush.
Give me time only when you can.
I want to really listen to the stories – be it about your 4th grade crush or about your discovery of the person you are today . I would love to discuss over matters beyond this time- the future, the sweet day-dream fantasies you knit in your boring classrooms or a far-reaching past life we have no 3D evidence of.
Divulge me of a random business idea you’ve been pondering over since forever; your dreams, your fears, your insecurities. Or maybe, about a front-page political issue or maybe some lyrical discussion over Frank Sinatra.
Tell me about the movie you watched, or the book you read, and more importantly why do you think it was so hilarious. I don’t want to know the facts- I have my own Google. I want to know your opinion, your
I don’t want to know the facts- I have my personal encyclopedia latched up on my right hand always .
I want to know your opinion, your idea and your perspective.
I want to hear something which would enlarge the realm of my thoughts, something which could define the dimensions of it in a new way perhaps. If not that, just reflect those of my own.
A conversation which ends where I am able to find a part of myself, and you yours. I want this conversation to add a piece to our lives in this ‘now’.