Mirror, mirror on the wall

I've just enrolled in a writing workshop at St.Xavier's college.. It's just five sessions and focusses on creative nonfiction writing. Here is a piece I wrote for the class.. Do read!

  I stormed into the classroom at St. Xavier’s college, panting, face flushed red. A last minute cancellation had prompted me to register that afternoon for the workshop, my first stint with a structured creative writing course. Unable to find parking, I reached ten minutes late, irked the teacher, clumsily took a seat at the back of the class and took a few deep breaths.  The walls were painted in a bleak grey and the chairs creaked from bearing the burden of several students over the years. 4 antique ceiling fans whirred leisurely above me, setting the pace for the ensuing session.

  The first exercise was almost over and the teacher prompted us to sit with a partner. The girls around me had already paired up so I was asked to move and join an older man who sat by himself. The bespectacled man greeted me and I muttered a hushed greeting in return. He had a large mole beneath his nose, visible from his left side profile only, the kind that helped you distinguish between the good and bad guys in Indian movies. He wore jeans and a t-shirt but his receding hairline easily gave away his age. My cursory impression of him was that of suspicion. I questioned his incentive for taking a workshop that abounded with young graduates, majority female. I conjured an image of him being in a midlife crisis, unhappy with his job and irritated with his wife finding an escape through this workshop, using it as an excuse to go home late and not confront his reality. Had I been on a flight with him, I would have put on my headphones and looked away from him.  Now, we were tasked with introducing ourselves. I considered making up an excuse and leaving the room, but he began talking immediately leaving me no choice but to listen.

   “I am the country head for a major chemicals company from the United States. I have worked with them for over 13 years now. We employ over 130 people.”

   Oh no! He is now going to go on bragging about himself, and list all his achievements. I knew it from the first glance: he is an egotistical narcissist. I had a very sharp instinct about these things and could read people very well.

   “But, that’s enough about me. Let me tell you about my wife and children. That’s more important.”

    I melted in my seat as he began detailing their lives. The glow in his eyes brightened when he talked about his wife.

   “She has her own business. Export focused, you know. My son got his MBA from Chicago and my daughter is just finishing her degree in medicine. They have done well for themselves.”

   He enlisted their qualifications with pride and it became evident that he was extremely attached to his family and saw himself as an extension of it. Clearly, he was not planning an escape from his life anytime soon.

  The next instruction was to discuss a problem with your partner. I began sifting through the myriad problems in my life to determine which one I should share. Unable, to make a conclusive decision, I prompted him to go first.

  “You know, I can’t think of a problem. My work is great. The family is doing very well and my health is also fine,”

   I didn’t believe him. “Surely, you must have a problem.”

   “Well, if I must then it’s probably that I cannot get the wedding hall of my choice for my son’s wedding. Yes, that is my biggest problem right now,”

   By now, I had enlisted about a dozen personal problems I could have potentially discussed with him and the biggest issue disturbing him wasn’t even about himself. I wondered who between us appeared to be going through a midlife crisis. The answer came from the smile on his face, the calm of his eyes and the smooth lines on his forehead.

  Next, it was my turn to share my problem. I spoke for around 3 minutes continuously, ranting about several unconnected issues without keeping track of time. In fact, I spoke for so long that just as he was about to suggest a solution for my problem, we had to proceed to the next exercise. Embarrassed that we had run out of time after my bitter monologue, I began to work on the next exercise and momentarily looked over at him. He seemed lost in thought like a NASA scientist who has just been informed about a missing spacecraft. He seemed to be in no rush to begin the next exercise and was eager to share his solution to my problem. He summarized his response structuring it with positive language and smiling reassuringly. The suggestion was simple, honest and could be mistaken for blunt had it not been for his flawless delivery. His thoughtful response triggered an urge to discuss more of my problems with him, to have him as a confidante.

  The rest of the class did not require team work so we did not interact further. I however, found it hard to focus on the remaining exercises. My short dialogue with my partner kept reeling through my head as I realized how judgmental and superficial I was. I had formed an opinion of him, even before we had spoken, based on his exterior. Yes, people judge others based on their appearances all the time; but, not me. I was a well educated, liberal and open minded individual, or so I believed. Ashamed at my instincts, I made a mental note to never make casual inferences about people without probing deeper. A strange curiosity then crept over me; I wondered how he had perceived me. I tried to surreptitiously glance over at him. Unable to confront what I might see, I quickly turned my head away and began the next exercise.