A-Z of Emotions: H for Humiliated
I have had my share of several humiliating moments thus far in my life. My future hope is that humans will evolve to a point where we all grow a shell that we can collapse into, during moments of immese embarassment like this giant Galapagos turtle . But, I had no shell to crawl into during my humiliating moments. Instead, I suffered the humiliation and lived to laugh about it with you now. Well, you will be the only one laughing at them. I still need more therapy. These are a couple of the hard-to-forget ones:
The ‘Boyfriend’ Incident
I am awkward around girls. It is true now, and it was certainly the case in my teens. This story goes back to Grade 10, the peak of my awkward years. I had a massive crush on a girl. Let’s call her Sofia. We had a lot of the same classes, and even worked together at Burger King. She was pretty and laughed at my jokes. Basic necessities of this guy to have a crush on you back in high school.
The incident happened during group work in Geography class. We were supposed to have a discussion on something, but the class was just chit-chatting instead. I was trying to ‘flirt’ with Sofia. It had been weeks since we had been talking. It was time to ask her out, low key.
“Hey, what are you doing Thursday? I have tickets for an early preview of The Matrix Reloaded. Wanna come with?”
I knew she was a big fan of The Matrix franchise. That’s one big thing we had in common.
“I’m in. Can my boyfriend come?”
“YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND!?!”
That was supposed to be my inside voice. Instead, I apparently had shouted it out, much to Sofia’s shock and everyone else’s amusement. There was a moment of mumbled silence before howling laughter broke out. I was rendered completely stiff in light of the humiliating situation, as Sofia mouthed the words ‘I hate you’. I guess that meant she wasn’t going to come to the early previews of The Matrix Reloaded with me. The laughter continued for, what seemed like eternity, until Ms Patterson, with her devious wit, chimed in,
“I guess, we know now that SHE DOES!”
The class resumed bursting out in laughter in unison. This embarrassing incident followed me until Sofia ended up changing schools, although that had nothing to do with me.
The ‘Fancy-Dress’ Incident
If you have been following along so far, you should know I grew up in India. My school would host various talent competitions to give a platform for students of all ages to showcase their talent. Sounds great, right?
Wrong.
Talent competitions are great for extroverts and kids with confidence. I was shy and a kid with no confidence. One year, my parents coerced me into competing in the ‘Fancy Dress’ competition. It is what it sounds like: kids dress up as famous people (real or fictional) and do an impersonation of the character for 20–30 seconds. Best costume and impersonation wins. My parents thought it would help me come out of my shell.
I was going in as Chandra Shekhar Azad. He was a famous Indian freedom fighter. My parents slaved for weeks to prepare the perfect costume. Grudgingly, I memorized 4 lines of inspirational banter. To the confident you, 4 lines seem like nothing. The insecure me had lost sleep over those 4 lines.
The judgement day was here. I was dressed the part: the suave moustache, the watch with the vintage dial, the beautifully combed hair, the fake gun and the corresponding fake bullet belt. As I walked to line up with the other impersonating 8 year olds, my costume was getting “oooos” and the “aaahs” from the other parents. I appeared confident, but I was metaphorically crapping my pants while repeatedly cramming the 4 lines I had to say.
I heard my name getting called. This was my moment. Maybe, this wasn’t going to be so bad. I would just have to say few lines, sound coherent, and my immaculate costume would take care of the rest. With this fake confidence, I walked up to the microphone from the side stage. This was my thought process leading up to the moment I began to speak:
Holy Shiva, there are a lot of people in the crowd. I see the judges laughing. Are they laughing because I look cute? Do I look funny? Did I do something wrong? Oh Krishna, I have to say something now. It’s okay, I have it all memorized…right? Wait.. what is the first line? WHAT IS THE FIRST WORD?
“Hello, my name is Nilabjo .. and .. umm”.
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember the first word. I could have improvised something. Even something cute could have won me a 3rd prize based on the merits of the costume. Instead, what did I do?
I ran off the stage shouting, “MOMMMY, what’s my first line?”
What happened next was a blur. I have no recollection of what I said. I don’t remember if the crowd laughed or was in complete silence absorbing the train-wreck on the stage. I am surprised I hadn’t literally crapped my dhoti (traditional Indian male garment), or maybe I had. It’s all blocked out. All I recall from this nightmare is the humiliation I felt running off the stage yelling ‘MOMMY’ and my so-called friends calling me ‘Momma’s boy’ for the years to come. That certainly helped with my confidence and shyness!
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