Stammer
People who stammer have to overcome fear and embarrassment while doing things that most consider simple.
Whenever a new chapter started in the English language, the teacher followed the same pattern. The chapter was read loudly in the class by the students. Each student had to rise and read one paragraph one by one. It would start from the front row and would slowly move to the last row. Once the complete chapter was read, the teacher used to explain the chapter.
I knew a new chapter was to start today and the teacher as usual would ask each student to read a paragraph. On such occasions, my mind used to go numb. I just prayed that the class would get over soon. I could feel my heart pounding and my breathing getting heavy. I just sat waiting for my chance. My palms were all sweaty. I was a backbencher in the class and hoped the period would be over before my turn came. Unfortunately, the turn always came. It was a forty-minute period, and everyone got a chance to read. I did not want that chance. Slowly one by one students were reading the paragraph and my turn was coming near. There was nothing I could do other than just wait.
The student next me got up and started reading a paragraph. I could hear his voice. I felt like it was coming from some far distance. I knew my turn was next. I was no longer thinking — just sitting with my mind gone blank and my heart pounding faster.
“OK Mitrabh your turn now’, the class teacher remarked.
I got up with the book in my hands. I look at the paragraph to be read and start but the words won’t come out of my mouth. I try but I couldn’t speak, I tried again and all I could manage was “H..H…H” and I just stammered. I did not know what else to do. I could feel my eyes swelling with tears and I could no longer see what was written. I still tried “H…H” I still could not. The shame was unbearable.
“It is OK Mitrabh, you can sit down, you can wash your face if you want to”.
I nodded my head and went to the bathroom. I washed my face, but I could feel salt from tears in my mouth. Now tired but relaxed, I dreaded going back to class. I looked in the mirror. My face looked clean and calm. I washed my face again a few times. I didn’t want to think about the incident. Thinking about it made me ashamed of myself. I drank some water and stood looking in the mirror. I returned back to class and sat on my seat. The students were still reading. After class I talked with my friends, we behave as if nothing happened.
I didn’t like talking about it. It was too embarrassing, and I didn’t know what to say. Even if someone would say something or suggest something, I would just listen without responding, it was too humiliating. So, I just continued to struggle not ready to share or accept help.
Simply ordering a meal in a restaurant or saying Good Morning to the teacher at school was a challenge. Every public place where a word had to be spoken was a battle ground. Things most people take for granted were anxiety inducing. A long hard struggle to win over fear and overcome embarrassment ensued.
