The Demise of Etiquette

By Seikholen Thomsong

(Have strangers called you up in the middle of the night out of nowhere, roused you from your precious sleep and gave you an earful of nonsense on some nights? Some ring you up by genuine mistake. Some people ring to give you crank-calls. If you were in Bollywood or say, in Manipur, it would have been an extortion-calls from some Bhaais or Dons or supposed ‘Freedom Fighters’. Then some people call you, without even the courtesy of introducing themselves, and start questioning you as if they are God. You get mad! You call them names and cut them off. Then they ring again and have even the gall to ask why you were rude to them. One such incident occurred to me)

I was invited by a family friend to dinner on Friday, 04 of May. Prior to that, I had been thoroughly bored. I had been looking out for an opportunity to socialize. Most of the parties in the army are like formal parades where you have to be your best at all times. There is something fake in them in the sense that you cannot feel free or be yourself with so many work-people around you. You always have to be on your tiny toes exchanging pleasantries with all and sundry, maintaining a smile there and a smile here.

So when I got the invitation to this family friend’s house I grabbed it. It was a chance to let my hair down and entertain myself. I went over to the Officers’ Mess and picked up a gift. It would have been insulting to go empty handed. I promptly reached the place, handed over the gift and settled down.

The best thing about socializing is the banter. I mean you talk to different people about people, places, events and occurrences –it really keeps you informed on what is going on around you. And if the company you have (like this host of mine) is some one who can really lead you on a chat. Well then, your evening is made! Don’t get me wrong I am not talking about the romps et al. I mean to say the evening is well spent if you get to talk to a person who is well informed.

A few drinks down, and before I could realize the time of day or night, the food was ready. The host suggested we had a bite as she was concerned that I might have been hungry. As it is, I always look like I am starving. I, perhaps, would even be leaner than a poor church mouse residing in the Methodist Church RK Puram Sector-2 where we, the KWS, have our weekly congregation. Had I been a woman some people might have thought I was trying to become one of those page three anorexic models. Bird flu be damned to smithereens, I relished the dish placed before me. We had our fill and settled down for some more light banter then it was time to leave. I got up and said my polite fare-thee-wells and rushed home for some goodnight’s sleep- I had a long day the next day.

The evening was not supposed to be for some quiet or sleep it seemed. I got a call at 0130 hrs after midnight that jerked me up wide awake. By that time, to put myself to sleep, I had just finished counting the 1,00,00,00 imaginary sheep jumping over my imaginary hostel fence. A voice of a stranger began to address me in overbearing tones and almost threatened to know why I had gone where I had gone in the evening and done what I had done.

I asked, “Who are you by the way?” Surprised that somebody in Mumbai knew my number.

“Perhaps my stars were on the rise and some hapless producers or directors who were unable to obtain dates from Shah Rukh Khan or John Abraham were ringing me up.” I thought and my chest heaved outwards. My newly groomed moustache too twirled by itself over the possibilities of yours truly becoming a matinee idol.

The voice said something like, “It does not matter who I am! Why did you go and have a drink with her (my host) for the evening?”

Then I hit the roof. This bloody clown woke me up from my slumber at 0130 hrs after midnight. He did not have the presence of mind or the courtesy to tell me who it was that was calling me at such an un-earthly hour. And here he was asking me questions like a headmaster seeking an explanation from an erring student.

I lost my cool and said, “Who the fuck are you? Just who the hell do you think you are?” Had he told me, in polite words, how he felt about the whole thing I would have come down from my place and even apologized. The intimidating voice, as if trying to subdue me and make me cower in fear, irritated me. I then cut him off unable to contain my anger.

A few minutes later, he rang again. I picked it up. Being a creature of strong force of habits, I manage to pick the phone up again in spite of knowing it was him.

“Why did you speak to me that way?” he said as if the inconvenience he caused me was not enough. The fact that he didn’t have any manners of civilized speech from the beginning didn’t dawn on him.

“You prick remain in your shoes!” was the words I hollered at him. I have no regrets. He deserved it. Given a chance I would tell him he is just that a hundred times again.

Look at it this way. You wake a guy up from his sleep after midnight and ask him stupid questions just because you are stupidly insecure about a friend of yours. You do not even have the sense to talk like a cultured young gentleman that you aspire to be or do not even know how to address somebody elder to you. I tell you somebody else would have given you a worse hollering than I did.

Where have all the manners and etiquettes that we have learned or accumulated from our schools and educational institutions gone? Its alarming how we put our own upbringing to shame. So my friend if you come across this article, take time to check yourself where you have gone wrong. Improve yourself. The fact that you might have entered in the best institute of the country doesn’t guarantee you to ride roughshod over others or to be rude to people. There is something called emotional quotient, build up on it or else you wont get anywhere.

Well to my host I would say, “After this incident I would never think of refusing your invitations again”. The first time I almost didn’t turn up. Now I wish you would invite me a hundred times over if only to drive that stupid oaf insane.

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