THERE is this curiously insignificant term in the English language, used to denote a conversation of sorts.
As all conversations go, it bears no difference other than to merely reach out a curt message to someone.
An opening salvo, if you may, or a sort of warming up when attempting to get through another person.
It’s called ‘small talk’ and if one sifts a little deeper, there is a particular kind that shows that nothing is really small about it since it packs quite a punch when it comes to having a say.
There was this short article long ago in the Reader’s Digest (the everyman’s journal) about Albert Einstein.
Once, while visiting a park, he came across a small child sitting quietly near a pond.
A small crowd of onlookers, among them photographers and newsmen who had come to cover the Nobel prize winner, had gathered and watched from a safe distance, curious as to how the genius would breach the gap between two ages, while attempting to communicate with the small child.
As the article goes, Einstein had merely smiled and gently pointed to the carp on the water’s edge and whispered “fish.”
The two lonely figures then spent the next few minutes seated on the bench, without much of another word, appreciative and lost in nature’s surroundings. The smallest of all small talks, if there ever was one, in all of human history.
Often, too, many lasting friendships start with small talk.
A couple on a commute might perhaps start with one offering a short comment on the weather and, if the other person were responsive enough, their repartee might gravitate toward favorable interests and shared history or other commonalities.
Truly, these are delightful, especially when they’re re-discovered, this time with new acquaintances. Packs a mean punch, it has, but sadly, there is also a darker side of small talk (but not of the force, just yet).
Often, small talk has a long-drawn enough translation which many do not actively wish to put out in the open.
Roughly, the dark patch of small talk means, when one has nothing left to say. While it is true that on the sunny side of the fence, it is an excellent conversation opener, this opposite represents a bumbling counterpart, lost in balance, with hardly any gas in the tank, so to speak, to offer a flicker of civil exchange.
So often have I heard it cited in waning relationships, “we don’t talk anymore” or “we’ve nothing to talk about anymore,” as though “anymore” were the definitive indicator of the edge.
Also often, when this predicament is shared, this crossroad is uttered in whispers, so that severity is ironically passed onto other willing ears, other than the one who had lost any semblance of a signal to receive it.
Sad, of course, but the intent here is just to put this obvious red flag out in the open. Let’s celebrate the happy side of small talk or casual conversations, if you may, but be wary when a sudden tilt is on the horizon.
