An ode to the garrulous..

I have often been told that I dont speak very much or very well. It is much like telling a giraffe that it is tall or a zebra that it is striped. An attribute that maybe the gentle creatures are not exactly proud of (or maybe they are..), but has been bestowed on them nevertheless by mother nature. Looks like mother nature was not in a very pleasant frame of mind when she was giving me the "talk" gene.

I have never belonged to that category of humans that are called garrulous or talkative or chatty. Having said that, I have always wondered how certain people can talk and talk and not start feeling like radios. Certain acquaintances of mine can say the same thing in about 5 different ways in around 3 minutes. All I can say to that is, erm..

I have always marvelled at such people.

My sister is one such person. She can tell me that I am dumb in about 10 different ways in 2 minutes. I dont appreciate the fact that she is calling me dumb, but I cant help being impressed at her capability to talk so much.

Another acquaintance of mine tells me that my voice and speech dont have expression. She calls it a problem. Her body does not have a neck. Now, that is something which qualifies better as a problem!

I guess I have always been a better writer than a speaker, which is why debates and elocutions in school found me adorning one of the very last places, cheering the remarkable participants with great enthusiasm and visibly shrinking at the very thought of me being at the recieving end of all the cheering.

When it came to writing, I was all for it. The idea of the other participants not knowing what I was up to, appealed to me. Pick a sheet of paper, get a pen that writes, choose a topic, put together some words that make sense.... and voila!! You have a composition. See, that is so much easier than walking onto a stage against the will of your legs, and forgetting the very purpose of existance the minute you realise exactly how many people turned up to watch the event.

I did risk one such expedition in days when I believed religiously in the phrase - the young mind knows not the impossible (or something to that effect). I signed up for an elocution contest much to the delight of my teacher who maintained that a person who could manage to write a speech should be able to deliver it as well. It is almost as good as saying that someone who builds a plane can fly it.

Anyway, the day in question arrived with me having spent the previous night trying to memorise my speech and questioning my sanity. I was nervous to the point of breakdown even before the event began. After it did begin, whatever little I thought I had sucessfully memorised leaked away faster than water would in a badly cupped palm. By the time the 5th person had finished speaking, I was a wreck. And before I could calm down, or even begin to calm down, my name was called. Time has this very annoying habit of making the very things you dont want to happen soon, happen instantaneously. With time having a good chuckle at it's latest antic in the background and the audience enjoying a hearty laugh in the foreground, I wobbled onto the stage.

Of the rest, I'd rather not write. A friend tried to cheer me up afterwards. She said things like "It's alright", "Maybe you must look at another activity", "It was only the first time" and things of the sort. Hmm.. Friendship puts a smile where an elocution leaves tears.

Ever since, I have applauded them, marveled at their talking skills, not participated in elocutions and made contributions to the literary sphere in my own way.

So here's to the ones who talk and make existance for others interesting. Here's also to people like me (for cheering them on).. and the giraffes....and the zebras, for being the gentle creatures they are..