“Life is not a plot; it’s in the details.” ―
He is reading my analysis for twenty minutes now, stretching his legs upward on the edge of the table. Outside his glass wall, some of my close friends are waiting for me to go for a tea break. I get bored when people read my stuff silently. I get annoyed when my friends take tea breaks without me. But I can’t ask him anything now. This is the analysis I made after working ten hours a day. This is the analysis that kept me away from food, shower, and even my most favorite TV shows. I worked on every minute detail before calling it an analysis. After another ten silent minutes, he looks at me with a smile, saying, “It’s a great analysis- you covered everything. But can you make it short?”
From that day, in last ten years, I worked hard to make the story short. The discussions. The analysis. The emails. The chats. The meetings. The gatherings. The talks we talk when we meet someone all of a sudden. Phone calls where my mother has too many questions. Even my blog posts- mostly they all are short. It’s the clarity where I try to focus. More clarity in less words. I learned: no one has time to read two page long write-ups these days!
I went to writing classes at one of country’s most popular schools. Every aspiring author there filled up their pages with a lot of emotions and explanations. I was the only one who wrote a page long stories, and six lines long poems. I was also the popular one. Not sure if that was due to the length or the content of my pieces. It’s a pressure to control our thoughts in limited words. But isn’t the world changing in that direction? Aren’t we the generation of small talks, emojis, and abbreviated emotions?
On my phone, the most used emoji is the “Face With Tears of Joy.” I send it every time something makes me extremely happy. I overuse it. Though in reality, I never cry out of joy. I grin, or maybe I laugh out really loud. At times, I feel, I’m lying to people; instead of that emoji, I should write five paragraphs about real emotions I feel that moment. But I don’t do such things. I just follow the rules, and keep conversations short.
The chat history with my sibling doesn’t carry any word. We use emojis from every category to talk. A broken heart- every time we sign off. The emoji of a weight lifter, when I’m in gym. Birthday cake symbol on our respective birthdays. Breakfast emoji with a fried egg, if we had breakfast- it doesn’t matter what we had that morning.
I feel like a caveman, painting the world with images, decoding other people’s emojis to understand the words. Sometimes they even don’t mean what I think they mean. Why did we learn languages then? Maybe to describe a joyful breakfast story in which we eat a cake, and last night’s leftover pasta, and call it the best morning? Maybe to explain differences between a duck egg and a chicken egg. Right?
The data on my blog stat shows: every single short post gets more views and more comments. It gives me an idea what readers want to read. Almost everyone wants to read short pieces, opinions within hundred words. But aren’t we missing out details while keeping thoughts short? Isn’t it good to talk to the neighbor for ten minutes once in a while, after our thirty seconds long greeting ritual? Aren’t we getting too busy while chasing the time? Aren’t we making our real stories real short?