Whenever I think of the phrase ‘tongue-tied’, my mind draws quite a grotesque picture. I imagine this cartoon like character with its tongue being pulled out as long as the red carpet at the Oscar’s and then being tied into a knot. Well that would definitely shut someone up. Do you see where I am going with this? I don’t.
On a serious note, I don’t much enjoy being provoked, I doubt anyone does.
Before, I used to turn into the above mentioned nightmarish cartoon. My mind would just go – blank. I would probably say something inconsequential and escape. And the entire night would be spent tossing and turning, trying to figure out what I should have said or done. Somehow even when alone I never had the guts or the imagination to think of something cruel and hurtful, yet well deserved to say to the provoker.
Suddenly in the past few years, in spite of having shed certain inhibitions and a lot less shy, I feel I have turned into the worst version of myself. As if Pandora’s box full of hatefulness, arrogance, condescension and spite has been unleashed. Instead of just moving on, I can’t stop myself from giving back. Everything starts to get uglier and nastier by the minute, and I am unable to stop.
Sometimes it pays to keep your mouth shut. Or does it?
My tongue-tied self always wanted the pleasure of saying what was meant to be said at the moment meant to say it, unaware of the fact that remorse inevitably followed such an act.
Now that I have experienced the guilt of portraying inexcusable behaviour at times,I wonder if my former routine was a better approach. But wouldn’t it make me a push-over?
I’m finding it difficult to establish a middle ground here. I doubt if any such concept exists.