LIFE AND LIES #66 | Talks A Lot

His talking a lot was not the problem. The problem was that I didn't get to participate in the conversation. I was listening to a soliloquy.

We were not best of buddies, but he was a friend nonetheless. We seldom met. I could not offend him by telling him to shut up. Therefore, I got myself a routine. At regular intervals, I bobbed my head in polite affirmation and gave an occasional smile when all I was doing was staring in the distance at random people passing by. In college, I had attended many lectures where my mind just wandered off while my eyes remained focused on the lecturer. Being able to do the same thing with my friend in such proximity was a commendable skill that no resume/CV had a column for.

I wondered if he knew what I was doing but still chose to go on. But why would he do that? Or maybe he was as doubtful as I was. The best explanation would be that he became oblivious to everything when he droned on. My resolve weakened at times. I ran out of made-up expressions. Therefore, I tried to butt in, trying to start a conversation in which both of us could participate, something that concerned both of us. But, no! He thwarted every such attempt of mine by interrupting me and resuming himself. I am not much of a talker myself. Hence, I gave in and went back to my old routine.

Somewhere along, I noticed a stain on his shirt. I pointed it out. And the very next moment, I regretted doing that. Pointing out the stain brought forth a fresh barrage of comments involving his previous maid and how she turned out to be a total loss.

I was left in a state of wonderment: how could this man bring out a story at a random turn of a conversation? As a writer, I was torn between envy and admiration.

Later on, after we went on our separate ways, I couldn't help thinking that if God made someone to compensate for my taciturnity, it was him. And He, in his desperation, overshot what He was aiming for.

***

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