“I’m doing okay, how are you?”

All world’s a stage, as Shakespeare eruditely writes in the drama As You Like It (Act II, Scene VII.) We are all actors, having a part to play, with our designated entries and exits in this theatrical production that is life.

There is a lot that we experience and acquire over the course of our tenures; atop that list of skillsets is the ability to put up a performance. To paste a smile on one’s face, go out and about our lives, to answer “I’m fine!” to every “How are You?” that we are asked, and expecting to hear the same if we were to pose this question in return.

What’s rather remarkable is that often we do not realise what a dull show we’re putting up in front of other co-actors. Catching their bluff, and in retrospect, our own, isn’t that big a task. What is also remarkable is how conveniently we forget this and think that we’re all putting up a one-person show – that everyone we come face to face with is a member of the audience, a critic, or an understudy; who must only have pleasant takeaways from our flawless portrayal of smile, cheer and optimism.

This singular understanding of putting up a socially acceptable show has given birth to hustle culture, a tendency of sugar coating; neglecting burnout, and above all – fashioning an unrealistic idea of self that sees further reinforcement courtesy the social network. We’re all trapped in that ideology, and but obviously, coming out of it is difficult. Nobody wants to be perceived as a whiner, as a weakling – and putting down one’s guard to say “I’m not doing okay” is exactly what conventionally brackets people into weak and strong.

At work, you’ve got to be professional to get things done; at home, you’ve got to be resilient to keep things going. In such a case, what really is the place where you can take off your mask? (The mask frustration has multiple trigger points, but follow the mask rules when it comes to the pandemic, please!)

Pop culture sets a trend of maintaining a carefully curated public image, while also setting subliminal expectations of needing open and honest conversations; and we’re all left to balance between both the boats to prevent wreckage. The extra pressure of not wanting to add more to someone else’s plate renders us simmering, all of us going through struggles that we are too insecure to talk about. Discomfort cripples us the moment conversations surpass the superficial pleasantries; nothing feels more frightening than the thought of having to open up; no matter how much we may need it. To internalise all of this feels like the easier path to tread, no matter how unhealthy that might be.

Some of the best performances and cinematic experiences come out of improvisations. Maybe for once, we can shed the script that our performances are tailored on – how about we improvise? For every “How are You Doing?”, ditch the dialogues that we’re conditioned to speak without even processing what we REALLY want to say. Maybe then we’ll see each other as co-actors, and not as audience that we are so desperate to please. For I really don’t know; the acting methods designed to enable us thread through life are getting redundant. We are saturating and in a dire need to unlearn aspects that make us hollow collectively.

Maybe this time, we could try practicing a better answer than “I’m doing okay”. And maybe this time, we could really mean “How are You?” when we ask that question. End of the acting workshop.

”All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages.”