Breaking the Ice
As the world is slowly opening up from what seemed like a never-ending lockdown, I feel I should open up a few undisclosed chapters of my life. Travel with me to the year 2000 — A much simpler time and a much simpler me. As it was the millennial New Year, my relatives decided to arrange a grand party. As most of my generation’s kids were… well, kids, there was a fancy-dress competition too. Being a 5-year old, I was delighted at the prospect. I was told to be an Ice cream and I obliged as any other 5-year old! Yeah, that was my “fancy” dress.
You all know that the competitors need to go on stage and do a little something, don’t you? A fairy would wave her makeshift wand and bless you, a lion would put on a scary face and roar, and an ice cream…what does an Ice cream do anyway? Worry not! Dressed as an ice cream, I had the coolest (No pun intended) thing to do! I had a line —
“I scream,
you scream,
everybody screams
for an ice cream!”
As embarrassing as it sounds now, I believe it was cool back in 2000. I thought I would nail this costume. I enjoyed the time designing the costume with my parents and cousins. I spent the next few days chanting my line and, in the nights, I dreamt of the big prize I was so sure of winning at the competition.
The most awaited D-Day arrived! The fancy-dress competition was the first event and the kids had assembled backstage. One after the other, I saw the kids going out. They must have been acing their fancy dresses, as everyone received thunderous applause. Before I knew it, it was my turn. I remembered my lines once again and went up to the stage, holding a me-sized thermocol-made Ice cream cutout, with a hole in the middle to insert my face. I reach the center of the stage and something happened. I did not understand what it was. Words failed me, knees shivered, and my breath was out-of-control. I vaguely remember being ushered out of the stage by my parents with a complimentary gift in my hands. I felt like my dreams had been shattered.
Years later, I realized I had the “Stage Fright”. So much so that the fear even translated to a stutter. Every time I faced a large enough audience, I would panic! Anxiety would befriend me, and words would desert me. The stage became a place that was equivalent to hell for me. I actively avoided any chance to get onto the stage. I was, what I like to call, a stage-virgin. Things got worse when I saw myself in situations where a question was asked in a class, but I used to keep mum even if I knew the answer. It felt like the fear vortex was successfully sucking me into the depths of no return!
In college too, when we had to give presentations on group projects, I always nudged the others to present. I had the perfect excuse with me — “If I present, we might lose marks for a bad presentation. I don’t want to do that!”. I’m not proud of it now, but it always worked!
Looking back, all I remained with were nothing but excuses and regrets. Yet, this is not a sob story. This is not a tragedy either (Except for the fancy-dress competition. That was a total disaster!). If anything, this is an experience. Although, it is so profoundly influencing that majority of my life was adversely affected.
I realized it was time to change these things. I knew that I cannot cower behind this fear forever. I knew…that an action had to be taken. 17 years later from that fancy-dress competition, I saw myself walking into a Toastmasters Club meeting.
To be continued
