by Shobhaa De
So what changed that stable equation?
For one, my friend felt deeply hurt and let down during a sickness, when the two women displayed indifference to her condition and were almost heartless. For another, they had started to take her generosity—moneywise, timewise and emotion-wise—entirely for granted. Conceded, she was the wealthiest of the trio. But the other two were not exactly paupers! There were repeated acts of meanness . . . and soon, my friend started to feel excluded. Like she was the intruder. Then, as frequently happens when friendships get a bit claustrophobic, jealousy entered the picture. Sniping started. Fortunately, my wise and sensitive friend picked up the vibes and retreated. That’s the sensible thing to do when things start to get toxic. I asked why she didn’t confront the two. And she said it would have been pointless. I agree. Often, things of this kind are best left alone. Otherwise, one ‘frank’ discussion leads to the opening of a Pandora’s box. Nothing good ever comes out of ‘upfront’ conversations that are supposed to clear the air. Nothing gets cleared. The pollution levels increase, you end up choking and gasping, hating yourself for opening your mouth.
I prefer to stay away from people who have hurt me. I have no desire to nail their lies. No desire to ask for explanations. I just can’t bear to be in their presence. And when that point is reached, there is often no return. Very rarely, and after years of maintaining a distance, does it happen that I accept such a person back in my life. But I do so cautiously, safeguarding my own emotions. Often, the relationship limps along self-consciously—no reference to the past, no ‘you said, I said’. Just a heavy, oppressive feeling of ‘Do I really need this—again?’ I hate self-conscious ‘friendships’. Either you can be totally naked in front of a friend, or that person is no better than an acquaintance. The moment there is calculation and stiffness in the picture—like Johnnie Walker ads advise: Keep walking!
I prefer to stay away from people who have hurt me. I have no desire to nail their lies. No desire to ask for explanations. I just can’t bear to be in their presence. And when that point is reached, there is often no return.
I remember this one time when I was dead beat. Looking like something dragged in by a stray dog. It had been a long, long day. And I was dressing to go out. My husband asked, ‘Why are you bothering? If you are tired—don’t go! It’s not even as if you like this person.’ Was he right? Should I have begged off? Did I really dislike the birthday girl? As I lashed on last-minute mascara, I did a quick rethink. There was still time. I could say, ‘Forget it!’ and wash my face, get into a kaftan and stay home. But I didn’t. I continued applying mascara and thought about the party thrower. It was her birthday. She genuinely liked me. It mattered to her that I attend her party. Yes, she had invited over two hundred people. Even so, I wanted her to know I cared enough to show up.
As I drove to the venue, I thought about the birthday girl. There was a time when she was by far the biggest vamp in town. Rightly or wrongly, she had acquired a terrible reputation as a homewrecker. Shunned by most, she had fled from the barbs and waited it out. Despite her best efforts, she remained a social pariah. I was aware of all this. But not bothered by it. I figured she had made her decisions based on her own judgements. In the process she had hurt a few people and been hurt herself. I wasn’t about to take sides or judge her. Did I like her? An unambiguous ‘yes’. She was spunky, bright, sharp and sassy. I had never been offended by her on any level. She was consistently warm, well mannered and generous. In fact, I liked her a whole lot more than many other ‘good’ girls. Each time we met, we spent time chatting about our lives in a meaningful way. I kept her confidence and she clearly trusted me. That was enough.
We all have our ways of figuring out that ‘enough’. Why get greedy? Maybe we invest too much time and energy in analysing friends to death. Why not accept them for what they are? Some are superficial, some are complex, some are hateful, some are enriching. The minute we allow another person into our emotional space, a relationship gets established. It has nothing to do with permanence or intensity. Some relationships are fleeting and perfect. They fill a specific need in a specific context. Others take time to develop. Do we have the patience to allow that to happen? We fast-track everything—relationships included. Unable to cope with the multiple demands on our time, we first look for reasons to cut a potentially wonderful friendship by finding a hundred reasons for it not to work! When I find myself attracted to a new individual these days, I distract myself by finding flaws. The faults invariably win over the good points. It is as if I am determined to stall the attraction from moving ahead, because I am already preparing myself for disillusionment. How sad! Earlier, I would be the excited, happy puppy eagerly exploring possibilities. I approached relationships with enormous optimism. Today, I take ten steps back before taking that one step forward. I continue to make new ‘friends’, but I redefine my expectations first. It is enough to enjoy an evening with a person whose mind is engaging and whose presence is positive. If that evening leads to more evenings, it’s fine. If not, that’s fine too. The experience is complete.
We hunger too much. For love, attention, reassurance. We demand ‘proof’! What proof? During the throes of teenage passion, we used to be impressed if the gangly, unworthy fellow from the neighbourhood cut his finger and signed a love note with his blood. That was ‘proof’. Later, the ‘proofs’ we craved became more materialistic. A ring, a wedding band, a mangalsutra. Such nonsense! As if that bit of metal guaranteed everlasting happiness. Proof is for those who live with insecurity. The whole point of a solid, confident relationship is to do away with proof. Either you believe, or you don’t. Without unconditional trust, there is nothing but unhappiness. Often, it takes decades to figure out a simple fact of life—friends change. So do we.
How boring life would be if all of us stayed constant! When you start off liking someone instinctively, suspend all other reservations. Just like! Don’t try to pry or find out too much. That ruins discovery. Let the friendship unfold gently, organically, painlessly. If it is meant to bloom, it will. If not, so what? I remain open to newness. I enjoy meeting young people. They bring so much to the table with their wicked views and irreverence. I see my younger, cheekier self and chuckle. Was I this irritating? I must have been. I got away with a lot. And so should my young friends. Sometimes, they are stumped as to how they should address me. They start off haltingly with a ‘ma’am’. Then it gets changed to ‘Shobhaaji’. Finally, when I can’t stand the stiffness and formality, I raise my hand and say, ‘Stop! Call me by my name. It is Shobhaa. Just Shobhaa. Call me Shobhaa . . .’ They look a bit embarrassed. They stare questioningly at one another. The first one who dares to say ‘Shobhaa’ out loud gets a high five from the others. Some push their luck and call me ‘Shobes’. Excuse me? Once the breakthrough is achieved, it’s all good.
We should actively aim for that elusive ‘all good’ feeling.
Officially yours
Work relationships require a different code. I have always preferred to maintain some distance and a level of formality with people I have met only because we have a common professional platform. I have seen my children and their friends struggling to maintain a balance between intimacy and aloofness with their colleagues. This is never easy. Today’s generation communicates differently; the language is more colloquial and racy. The use of slang is not discouraged even in semi-official emails. This leads to serious missteps, especially if the boss is from another generation and he/she mistakes a certain relaxed exchange for something else.
Office flirtations are a strict no-no and I have rarely seen anything good come out of them. Yet, when you are spending long hours together, how stiff can the upper lip be, and for how long? A beer or two after work may be considered de rigueur and mean nothing, but when those beers start multiplying and become a regular routine, even the most disciplined colleague with high standards of correct office behaviour sometimes slips—and that’s when problems escalate. Why get into such a potential
ly messy situation? By all means be friendly, helpful and polite. But that’s about it.
Office trips sound like amazing fun—which they are! I hear about all the team building taking place at an exotic venue, and chuckle to myself. I wonder how exactly a beach volleyball contest contributes to the company’s bottom line. All I can tell from the exuberant FB posts is a bunch of people having a great time by day and getting piss drunk at night. Perhaps buried deeply in all this frenzied activity, there is earth-shattering progress being made. But I have spent far too many hours consoling friends who have returned from ‘bonding’ with mates and regretted the changed dynamics to recommend this strategy blindly. Especially so in our predominantly conservative corporate culture, which, despite claims to the contrary, still clings to old-fashioned, deeply hierarchical roles.
Learn to traipse lightly over rough terrain in the workplace. You don’t have to be cold or distant with colleagues. But neither should you be in a zone that is intrusive. Sharing personal information beyond a point is counterproductive and can lead to embarrassing situations. Imagine a scenario in which a husband/wife gets introduced to a stranger, who exclaims: ‘Oh! So you are the person who messed up on that amazing trip to Istanbul by missing the flight home!’ Not cool.
Know where to draw the line. Know how much to share. Ask yourself why you are sharing it in the first place. Does it add to the other person’s knowledge base in a positive way? Or are you doing it to look good, to show off? Never discuss a colleague behind his/her back, or post jokes about the boss on social media. None of this makes your position stronger. If anything, chatty-flirty exchanges can come back and bite you hard. So can ‘harmless’ dates with colleagues. Take a look at the number of victims whose careers have been irreversibly ruined because of office indiscretions.
Learn to traipse lightly over rough terrain in the workplace. You don’t have to be cold or distant with colleagues. But neither should you be in a zone that is intrusive.
Then comes the question of inviting the boss home. This is a delicate one, and varies from company to company, boss to boss. I would suggest broad guidelines: Let the boss define social behaviour. If the boss invites juniors home, it is a strong signal that he/she is keen to get to know employees better outside the office environment. Should you wish to reciprocate, it is more appropriate to start by thanking the boss for the hospitality by sending flowers and an appreciative, personalized note—perhaps praising some item of food or the choice of wine. After a decent interval, and if there is a celebration in your life to which you have invited several people, then it is acceptable to include the boss. But at no stage should it become a pressure to attend. Nor should you ask for an explanation if there is a no-show. This puts the boss in an embarrassing situation and works against you.
Inviting colleagues over is another difficult call. By all means do it, if you enjoy entertaining people you spend most of your waking hours with. Don’t do it as an obligation or a duty—that always shows. Keep the evening short rather than long. Indicate a time frame. Stick to it. Don’t allow it to drag on and on because one person wants the bar to remain open. Any guest behaving inappropriately should be firmly dealt with. This is your space. Guests who do not respect its sanctity should be struck off your guest list forever. Letting one’s hair down is one thing. Being obnoxious, quite another.
We have had incidents at our home with guests who tried to misbehave with other invitees. The boors who had offended our friends were promptly asked to apologize and leave our residence. Needless to add, they were struck out of our lives permanently. Yes, it isn’t easy to deal with ill-mannered colleagues—they can present a completely devilish side to their personality in a social gathering, especially if the drinks are flowing. Use your skills to control the party from degenerating into a disgusting brawl.
I often tell my children to err on the side of caution rather than regret an office relationship that sours later. I myself have made monumental mistakes in the past. I talked too much, allowed strangers into my life without a single filter in place. I revealed too much, heard too much, got intricately involved in their lives and didn’t succeed in extricating myself from an emotional tangle in time. This led to major misunderstandings, which could have been avoided had I maintained a distance.
I was young, over-communicative, reckless and, I suppose, a bit of a show-off. Each morning, I’d waltz in cheerfully and share all that happened the previous evening—a fight with a potential boyfriend, an argument with my sister, any trivial, silly little thing—there was a compulsion to immediately share it. I still don’t know why I did it. Was I looking for approval that desperately? Did I want to belong at whatever cost? The attention I received while I blabbed on must have been flattering too. But I do realize it was a mistake on my part. Not everybody is on the same wavelength, or the same page. Some snigger behind your back, others remain indifferent. Still others throw your words back at you later. It was very childish and impulsive on my part to confide in strangers. I learnt my lesson soon enough.
My daughters are wiser than I ever was at their age. Their office relationships are friendly but formal. They leave office affairs back in the office when they come home. Yes, they do socialize once in a while, but, by and large, they keep a healthy distance. This is the space where modern careerists often trip up, unable to define the limits of social–official intercourse. I would say sending flowers to the boss on a birthday/wedding anniversary is fine. Taking a bottle of wine with you if there is a party at a colleague’s home is also fine. But anything more intimate—regular weekend binge drinking, for example—is just not on.
Sleeping casually with colleagues? Call me a prude, but there have to be better options out there. Office ‘affairs’ are the worst affairs. I have rarely seen them end happily ever after. The aftermath invariably gets messy, and one or the other loses the job—gets sacked, has to resign, leave town, demand a transfer, consult a lawyer, cough up court charges, get blackmailed. Why bother?
Dangerous social media games
Then comes the other age-related issue: social media and Facebook. It’s primarily my age group that still believes it’s a great way to ‘stay in touch’ and ‘find old friends’. Others, far younger, have long moved on to different, sexier, hipper platforms. Since I have always maintained privacy settings on FB, I have fewer than 150 ‘friends’ I share stuff with on a regular basis. I like it this way. It’s more manageable, and I like to think of it as ‘quality control’. I have not the slightest desire to ‘reconnect’ with people I knew at school. If we have not been in touch for fifty years, why ask for trouble at this stage? Our lives have changed. We have changed. There is no real love lost. Why bother? But there are some deliciously wicked FB friends I have known, respected and loved for decades. We never really lost touch. Some have children the same age as mine, who in turn are close friends too. I deeply value our fun exchange on a daily basis, especially since we are all photo-obsessed. There are also a few very young people whose minds and views are terrific. We may have met once, twice, ten times. But over FB it’s a special bond and it’s wonderful to get a fresh perspective on life through these individuals.
There is also the troubling question of ‘unfriending’ people. And getting ‘unfriended’. I don’t care a jot about being ‘unfriended’—often it’s a relief. But I do feel apologetic when I unfriend someone. I don’t do that often, but when I do, it’s with good reason. I see FB as an interesting platform to share some of our joys and celebrations with people who appear to care for one another—albeit virtually. If that sounds naive and self-delusionary, it is! Most of my FB friends are on the same side of the political spectrum so there is a certain comfort level in expressing views that are not in line with the establishment. I also post my columns, and read other people’s posted on my timeline. This creates a small community of people with compatible mindsets, speaking freely in a world that is increasingly bigoted and illiberal.
My children assure me nothing but
nothing is private any more, least of all what is posted on FB. Somehow, that doesn’t deter or daunt me. It’s comforting to say something one is feeling strongly about, and have comments coming in that suggest we are on the same page on that particular issue. Those I unfriend are either aggressively selling something, promoting themselves shamelessly, pushing an agenda too blatantly or have nothing of consequence to share. Of course, there are the pests who bother strangers they have ‘met’ on your timeline and claim ‘friendship’. And then the worst offenders—those who use crude language and post abusive, offensive material. Out!
I am not on FB to peddle anything. That’s the way I like it. I once accepted a friend request from a really senior journalist whose columns I used to appreciate, only to read his boasts about hitting 5000 ‘friends’. I asked him directly why on earth he would even want so many friends. How can there be a meaningful dialogue with so many strangers? He replied testily that he was proud of the number, and it made him feel important. He also added, the number of his ‘contacts’ across the world had dramatically gone up, thanks to FB.
FB posts create odd situations, even with those who know you well. Like when I talked about being depressed after watching a particularly depressing film. I received solicitous messages from people I thought would get the comment in the right perspective, expressing their concern: ‘Are you okay? Did something happen? I can’t imagine you being depressed. You are a bright, happy, luminous star. Why are you feeling depressed? We don’t know you to be like this! Please just get back to your usual, positive, upbeat self.’ I was affected by a powerful film. Am I not entitled to feel low? Did my mood affect them so much because they can’t handle emotional swings themselves? Was it personal? Or was it about me? I am still not sure. If Mark Zuckerberg’s Twitter account was hacked—who are we? Take it for granted your accounts are far from secure. Assume there is zero privacy. Remind yourself that whatever you put out there is going to be accessed. That has been my ground rule from the time I became active on social media. Most of my contemporaries find it hard to decode the unwritten rules of social media. There are specific but not stated procedures in place that the young understand instinctively. Social media protocol doesn’t come with a rule book. You have to figure it out as you go along. I have made a few blunders myself, despite the caution.
