Public Speaking

Public speaking is an art. Being a very shy and tongue tied child I was never good at it.  Elocution, debate, group discussion, recitation were part of the school curriculum that I dreaded. Extempore speech – out of the question.

But give me a role in a play I was a pro. I was the star of the House (No.5). If the school took part in a drama competition I was sure to be there in the main role. I guess being an introvert fitting  into fictional characters was easy for me. Soon my studies suffered and just a fortnight before the 10th class Board examination, I realised I was the most ill prepared examinee. It was my elder sister who finally coached me and I passed with flying colours for which she takes the credit even now.

Coming back to my awkwardness in facing the public. As a child I had to rehearse many times what I had to say if my mother sent me to the local shop to purchase daily necessities. It  had serious consequences in my professional life as well. I hated interviews. Before a presentation I had to literally grill myself on the subject (even though I had adequate domain knowledge) in a self-rehearsal mode. Often I would go blank mid speech. Social appearances where I had to talk in front of strangers were a nightmare.

Strangely, I don’t have issues in one-on-one interaction where I easily take on the role of the speaker. (And if it’s on my favourite topics I shoot off like a rattle gun).  Stranger still was my ability to emote and deliver dialogues in front of live audience when it came to a stage performance. But that’s it – there the bucket stopped. Though classically trained if anybody asked me to sing I’d forget all the songs I knew by heart.

Given my limited abilities, I still take pride in my histrionics. However, in every play that I performed I was always given the role of the male lead. Yeah, you heard me right. Ours was an all girls’ school and I was always the king, the prince, the Sravan Kumar, the obedient son of the blind sage but never the queen, the princess or the heroine. One of the juniors in school had nicknamed me Raja Didi. My teachers told me I had a ‘regal bearing’ and that I was their ‘favourite hero’ which kind of mollified me. But not being able to enact a coy Shakuntala or a petite princess will always remain the biggest tragedy of my life.

Now at the fag end of my journey I think I’d do good on the director’s chair casting others in the roles they suit best – almost like moving the pawns in a game of chess – tutoring their minds and emotions so that they are able to execute my vision of a narrative impeccably.

😂😂😂😂

Day dreaming, you see.