There is a saying that as you get older, you get wiser. While that may not necessarily apply 100% to me, lately, I have been seeing some signs of such wisdom, especially when it comes to dealing with difficult people or situations. If you ask anyone who knew me 10 or 15 years back about what kind of a person I am, they will definitely tell you that I am someone who doesn’t put up with bullshit in any way and that I give back what I get, right there, right then. Although there were many times when that was indeed the right course of action, with age, I feel that I have mellowed down a bit.
Don’t get me wrong. Being wiser doesn’t mean that I have suddenly become a saint who feels no anger. And by no means have I become a doormat. In fact, even now, I am sure I use my acid tongue, dry wit, sarcasm, or a slightly controlled but very firm retort when a situation worthy of it presents. And the very few people to try that with me in the last 10 years or so have got a response they wished they hadn’t been alive to receive and have never pulled a stunt with me again. So I guess the fire isn’t dead. In fact, I did that as recently as last week.
Anyway, what I was trying to say in the beginning is that, maybe because I am growing wiser, the urge to respond or return in kind in every bad situation where I am faced with someone who irritates me has come down drastically with age. While my tolerance for nonsense and general bullshit from people has also come down, I am not faced with too many such situations because I don’t have to see or talk to people at a degree above my threshold, thanks to my permanent work-from-home setup and my well-chosen, selective socializing skills where people who talk to me feel that I am a talkative extrovert while not really catching on to the fact that I am actually an introvert who talks a lot to some people, sometimes (well, I have blown that cover with this blog, haven’t I?).
But even in situations where, previously, my temper would have risen, my patience tested, and my acid tongue and facial expressions acted before my brain, now I see a calmer and more patient response. And in such situations, I have noticed that the result is sort of a win-win for both me and the other party involved.
Two days back, I went to the passport office for the reissue of my passport. I was waiting for the counter number for the second round of document verification by an official, my eyes glued to the screen where token numbers and their corresponding counter numbers kept flashing. My token number flashed suddenly, and even before I could see the counter number or get up from my seat, “Radhikaaaa… Radhikaaaa… Radhikaaaa…” kept ringing in the voice of a lady from the adjacent room like an ambulance’s hyper-wail. In less than 2 seconds, another man joined her, and from two ends of the room, my name kept being called. It would be an understatement if I said I was startled.
I jumped up and ran to the room, waving to the man to tell him I was Radhika. He stopped, but from some other corner of the room, from one of the many cubicles, the lady’s voice kept ringing out still. It took me another 2 seconds to spot where this was coming from, and I ran to the cubicle and said to her, “Yes ma’am.” What welcomed me was a volley of angry lines in Telugu. While I do communicate in broken Telugu, this was much beyond my comprehension level, coupled with her angry tone and pace of speech. So I told her calmly, “Sorry ma’am, but I do not understand Telugu.”
Man! Could that have gone any worse?! She suddenly switched to English and Hindi and kept barking at me (general English usage here, not an insult, for those who are confused), “Radhika is not Telugu; you do understand Radhika, don’t you?” phrasing it in all the different ways she could. I kept trying to get in a “But…” or a “What I meant…” in vain and just gave up for the time being when she started talking to the official in the next cubicle about how my name was not Telugu and how I didn’t respond when she kept calling. In hindsight, she might have been expecting me to yell out “Yes ma’am!!!!” from the other end of the adjacent room and run dramatically towards her in hyper-speed, and the absence of that drama might have disappointed her.
Whichever way, I noticed right then that there was no surge of anger inside me even when I was being publicly humiliated by this lady with a rather senseless rant, not giving me a chance to explain. And that surprised me. I asked myself if it had something to do with the fact that she was verifying my documents for the passport. But I knew it wasn’t that, as such fear of consequences and a resultant submission is quite out of character for me. I realized then that I was genuinely not mad at her. That brought a smile to my face – a genuine one at that – another smile of being wiser, maybe.
Probably because she saw that smile, she suddenly switched to a different tone and told me in Hindi, “From morning, I am calling people’s names, and my throat hurts.” (Why she had to keep calling people’s names when she could just give people 2 seconds to see their counter number and walk to her cubicle is beyond me. I mean, in the entire time I spent in that office, I did not see even one other official who was calling out names like her.) When she said that, there was a tired and, what I feel was, a tinge of “I shouldn’t have shouted at her” look on her face.
I took the cue to finally talk and told her, “Ma’am, what I meant earlier was that I couldn’t understand what you were telling me in Telugu. And I’m sorry I didn’t respond when you called my name. I really couldn’t understand where the voice was coming from. I understand you must be very tired. It’s already 5:15 in the evening. And I can understand how tiring it is in a government office where people keep coming in all day.” Her response was “Yes maa,” and that was sign that she had put down arms completely and held up the flag of peace. We finished the procedure, and I thanked her and walked to the next counter.
When I was done with all the procedures, before leaving, I had to use the washroom. On my way from the washroom to the exit, she walked out of her cubicle and happened to come in front of me. In a brief moment of tender understanding, seeing her still tired face, I put my hand on her back and said, “Thank you so much ma’am. Bye!” She turned round in surprise, gave me a huge smile, and said, “Bye maa!” And I walked out feeling much, much better than if I had responded to her in her own tone in the first place.
Although not as intense, I had a similar experience a few months back with Taaru’s teacher. I happened to message her about Taaru not using her nap time at school properly and hence being too tired in the evening, adding that I had talked to her about the importance of nap time and would appreciate her support in talking to her from her side too. Nowhere in the message was there an implication that the teacher was at fault. However, the teacher’s response had a slightly defensive tone to it, with “I am aware of the importance of nap time for kids, and I don’t make them do other things during that time.”
My first instinct was to think, “When did I say it was your fault?” But then I thought of a teacher who is handling 25 kids all day for 5 days a week, with senseless complaints and questions coming from us parents quite frequently. That helped with keeping a passive-aggressive tone out of my response, where I explained that I was talking about Taaru’s tendency to finish things first without napping and how I would need her support in getting that under control. As an add-on, I went on about how I ensure that I am totally understanding of my kids’ teachers and their circumstances and would never judge them for something as trivial as this when they are doing their best to take care of so many little ones at once when we parents find it hard with just one or two.
That seemed to make all the difference, and I guess she went back and read my first message again and understood that she had misunderstood it. Because when she replied, the tone was absolutely pleasant and conveying how this was a miscommunication that happened owing to chat messages and not talking in person and how she totally understood what I meant. We went on to talk for a couple of minutes on chat about how we can help Taaru together, and that was that. And thanks to that, the next time I went over for a PTM, I didn’t have to worry about any awkwardness or unease that might have come up if my response to her was any different.
I guess, what I am trying to say is that, there are situations and people who deserve a firm dose of drawing a line and saying exactly what comes to our mind as a response to their unnecessary or irritating comments. And in such situations, by all means, do so. Sometimes, just giving them a piercing stare and cutting them short with a curt “I am busy” and walking away in slow motion works in itself like a “Mind your business” or a slap on the face without the actual words or actions. Trust me, I am a pro.
But not all situations are hills to die on. Knowing that is part of being wiser. There are instances, even with total strangers, when a second to calm ourselves down, look at things from the other perspective, or just choose to ignore something that isn’t going to make a huge difference to us in the long run can make the situation turn positive instead of a toxic encounter or a feud. And the smile on my face and the lightness in my heart after the incidents I talked about earlier really showed me that we are doing ourselves a favour by not engaging with the negative thoughts that strive to come out initially as an impulse. If we are able to walk away with a smile, with no lingering anger, it gives us one thing less to overthink about – that is a win in itself, and it is freeing. And to see a smile from the other person who has now switched gears – that is nothing short of a win either!
Also published on Medium.
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