Interpersonal differences

It was finally Friday! After battling many a tough weeks of illness, exams, assignments and crazy work schedules, I was looking forward to a relaxed weekend with family. I packed my little over night bag, grabbed my half-read Salman Rushdie (The Enchantress of Florentine – a most engaging read) and my laptop and set out to work. I was going to go home straight from work, and I looked forward to a quiet, peaceful weekend.

At this stage, I must explain something. As per my psychologist boss, friend and colleague P, I have an introvert personality type. This means, that while I can handle large, gregarious groups of people, I actually need to frequently recharge by spending time by myself, or with my closest friends and family. Also, when overloaded by tasks, I tend to reduce anxiety, by breaking down my mammoth to-do list into organized, attainable little jobs. And so, when I plan an office picnic, I look up the weather to check for rain, I fret if I am not on time, and I do not handle sudden, unexpected changes in my schedule very well.

It takes most of us a lifetime, before we are able to ascertain with some level of confidence, our exact personality type, and how to cope with it. And so often, in work and family situations, there is bound to be friction when you throw a gregarious, pressure prompted extrovert, with an organized, methodical introvert. One finds the other brash, inconsiderate and frustratingly disorganized, and in return, the other thinks the first is picky, fretful and often slightly boring.

P’s assessment of me had come as something of a shock – I guess even the meekest of us, likes to believe that we live in the moment, revel in the public eye and can improvise along the way. But I regress too much now, in the name of giving you some background, allow me to continue with my narrative.

And so, as I stepped out of the house to catch a train to work on Friday morning, my cell phone tingled away merrily, announcing the advent of a text message. It was P. He wanted me to join him and a few friends for dinner; I was welcome to bring along a friend. He was notoriously last-minute as well. I hesitated. I had been telling Siddharth all about P, I really wanted them to meet. But I did not like the idea of changing my laid out plans.

“Let me ask Sid”, I thought. “If he is free, we’ll go for dinner, if not, I’ll go home”.

And so, as I got to work, I called Siddharth.

“Hey! P would like you to join us for dinner tonight. Are you able to come along?”

“Umm..sure. At what time?”

“Maybe about seven? There are a couple of people. Could you pop down to my office at about a quarter to seven?”

“That should be fine. I’ll be there, although I might be a little late”.

I put the phone down, satisfied. I can go home tomorrow. Tonight, I’ll unwind with my closest friends. And so, I accepted P’s dinner invite.

Later in the day, closer to dinner time, I called Sid again. He can be time poor at times, and I did not want the others to wait too long. He was still busy working.

“Hey, just checking that you will be able to make it in on time as we all leave from here for dinner”.

“Can I be late?” he asked, hesitantly. “Will we take very long at dinner?”

Sensing a change in plans, alarm bells started sounding.

“We will be two hours at the very least.”

“It’s just that I have a deadline to meet, and I have not yet completed all I need to do.”

There was an expectant silence for a moment.

“Oh well, that’s fine then. I’ll let P know that you cannot make it”, I said with some resignation.

I was unsure why I was so upset, as I resumed work. Perhaps it was disappointment. Perhaps I did not like last minute changes to my plans. I needed time to digest and deal with changes…unexpectedly creeping up on me, most definitely was not pleasant.

P bustled in at the very moment.

“Hullo Shrooooottttteee! I am so excited that your gorgeous Indian friend will join us for dinner”, he said.

That was the icing on the cake.

“Oh he can’t come”, I got out, perhaps a little more miserably that I intended.

P eyed my morose expression.

“Gee…should we all wear black T-shirts in mourning then?”

In spite of myself, I smiled. Shrugging the moment off, we went through the rest of day.

Dinner was a lovely, relaxing affair. We went to a quaint little restaurant in Wilston, where we polished off melt-in-the-mouth servings of caramelized pork chops, braised trout and grilled chicken, all washed down with wine and great conversations. As we clinked glasses, laughed outrageously and fiercely debated our favorite movies, I felt the stress of the past few weeks leave me. It was a mellow evening.

P chose the moment to make some observations.

“Yeah, It was disappointing that you could not bring a friend tonight Shrootee,” he said. “But perhaps that was because it was all so sudden. Maybe the next time, we’ll plan these things a week in advance.”

I smiled at him – loving him more for trying to approach things my way. P is a complete extrovert – planning in advance is as alien and desirable to him, as a bath is to a cat. P cannot be sure if he will keep his coffee meeting in the next one hour, we both knew that planning for a week out was impossible for him. But inexplicably, his holding out a suggestion that impossible and difficult for him, made me feel so much better and cared for.

Sometimes, by just being ourselves, we unintentionally send out the wrong message to those around us. Recognizing our style, and those of others, and talking about effective strategies to cope with the difference, goes a long way in communicating to the other, how important the person is, and the extent to which you will go out of your way to ensure that he does not feel taken for granted.

P has often taken so many such steps to make me feel nurtured and special. And so, I share this strategy with you, in the form of a long, wieldy story on my blog. Because it is important.

Oh dear… I guess its time to have this chat with Siddharth though!