little bubbles... big bubbles...hidden bubbles...

Once when I was a teenager (about 14 or 15), we had dinner in a revolving restaurant in Ahmedabad. I was quite enthralled by it all. There was beautiful live music playing in the background, the food was good (I think, I suppose, I assume – if I even noticed. Interesting that – for I’d rather eat in a place without frills, but which serves great food; than in a fancy place that serves mediocre food). The architecture fascinated me. The fact that we moved a little, with my every bite, fascinated me. The fact that we crossed all the bridges in the city by the time we were done with our meal, fascinated me. Everything about it fascinated me.

I was awestruck. I was also a little tongue-tied. Perhaps I felt it was all too fancy for me. Perhaps I didn’t quite know how to express what I felt. Perhaps I wasn’t quite sure even of what I felt. Perhaps the ambience was so formal, I didn’t want to seem over-excited and gauche in an elegant setting.

I was definitely taking it all in, but in a sense - on the face of it, I was brushing it all off – with poise (okay, the limited amount of poise I’ve been blessed with).

I suppose I took it all in, felt all that I had to feel, made conversation with my parents – all the while internalizing what was going on inside.

And although this is a somewhat embarrassing story, I will go ahead and say it. For I think it offers an insight into our psyche and how some of us operate when we internalize things.

When we returned to the hotel, I must have fallen asleep right away. In a few minutes (still asleep), I sat up in bed, clapped my hands and said “Oh… such great fun!! Oh… what great fun” (in Marathi – I understand a lot of sleeptalking happens in our first language/native tongue). Then, I rolled back in my sheets and disappeared into a deep sleep. 
My parents had a good laugh and I, of course, was very embarrassed the next day. And each time the story was repeated.

And although I can laugh it off now, I get it. For even today, several decades later, there are times, I still get tongue-tied. There are times and situations when I don’t know what to say. There are times when I don’t know how to react to things that are said to me. Of late, I even notice myself talking away, rather than listen, stop and show emotion. Awkwardness aside, I suspect there is some kind of internalizing going on.

Does this happen to people who are more emotional? Who have learned over time, and for whatever reason, that it is wiser to remain guarded and not express all the emotion inside – at least in certain situations? People who are not sure how much emotion will come rolling out? People who are not sure they want so much emotion to roll out. To show? Funny that, for at times, even when we try to hide it, it must show – or appear as nervous energy.

This is no Freudian analysis of any sort. Simply because I have little or no knowledge. I don’t suppose we can even tell all what we internalize. And that makes we wonder, how much of our life goes by… unsaid, unheard. Words and thoughts and feeling that get muffled when we don’t quite know how to express them.

Do we muffle them because we don’t quite know what to do with them? Or they are not clear enough for us to understand them? Or is it uncomfortable to feel them, look at them? Or do we lack courage? And so we brush them off, or try to?  

Do they then come back later as stray thoughts? Or do they melt into nothingness? I have no clue. I understand we can never express everything we feel. Thankfully!! But there may be certain things that may be small enough, but important enough that they be expressed.

Now only if someone will point those out to me, and tell me how… Sigh…