The dying art of dirty look

I am known to speak nineteen to the dozen in pleasant company but words fail me when I am angry or upset. There was a time when I was reputed to have a short fuse. In case that leads you to imagine that I had a sharp tongue to lash at people who provoked me, you are wrong. What I’d do was to withdraw into a silence and it would get deeper as the anger intensified. And when it reached the peak I’d burst , err...into tears. I have never been an expert in verbal pyrotechnics. I never seem to find the right putdowns or comebacks when people are sarcastic or mean to me. I personify l’espirit d'escalier, giving myself ulcers thinking of all the things I should, could and ought to have said but alas, a few minutes too late.

Here's an example. I am dark-skinned and my sister is fair but it is not difficult to make out that we are sisters. There was this mean girl who commented how fair and pretty my sister was and then proceeded to ask me if she was my own sister. Obviously her main point was that I was dark and ugly. I got it but just said ‘yes’ and quickly left feeling hurt.
It is tough to react quickly in situations like this and time is of the essence in handling meanness effectively. For example when I met her next I could have said “ that brainy girl – is she your own sister? who’d have imagined?” or something like that but the point would have been lost. If only I had come up with it as soon as she dared to be rude to me - now that would have taught her not to mess with me in future!

Every time I have been on the receiving end of a particularly insensitive remark and become tongue-tied I resolve to do better the next time it happens but then I always manage to get my fangs out a few seconds too late.
I admire some friends who can make a person squirm by just rolling their eyes or with a simple remark like ‘really?’ when people dare to mess with them with their smart remarks. And they can retort with dirty looks – the kind that makes you wish you had never been born.
Since my tongue and brain never co-operated with witty retorts just in time I decided to master the art of the dirty look. For the uninitiated, it involves turning your face slowly and deliberately towards the target and then looking at an imaginary slimy green creature crawling down their face. I used to do it rather well in my younger days or so I imagined. I have made a few people slink away with their tails tucked between their legs with this above technique and was quite proud of it.

I haven’t had the occasion to practise it much in recent years as my interactions are confined to people who take political correctness to a painful level. – you know the type who ‘think’ of an overbearing and spiteful woman as ‘a canine female’. How feline is that!

Last week in the train there were these two youths who decided to broadcast an FM channel for the entire coach using their mobile phone. A few people wanted to read and there were quite a few who wanted to sleep but these two were oblivious to all that and were determined to keep the junta entertained with their FM channel. They sat two seats behind me. I waited for someone to object and since nobody did, I decided to give them my famous dirty look. I got up from the seat, slowly and deliberately moved my face in their direction, fixed my eyes on them and glared for a couple of seconds and sat down. A second later, the song became louder. I think the good Samaritans had interpreted my gesture to be a request to raise the volume loud enough for me to catch the lyrics from my row. So I did an encore, this time demonstrating my disapproval with a gesture to lower the volume and finally they understood.
I notice that my dirty looks don’t have the same effect anymore when I try it on people
who try to jump queues
who spit on the road
who talk loudly into their cell phones in public areas
who don’t switch off their phones in aircrafts.
They are totally impervious to all the elaborate bhava(expression) and mudra (gesture) involved in my dirty-look technique and even give me a smile at times. Most of the time it is lost in translation. I am curious.
Is it because people have become less sensitive to non verbal communication? Is it because dirty words are no longer taboo in conversations and so people don’t have to be subtle and use dirty looks to make their point. Or perhaps it is just that age has blunted the edge of my dirty look.
Time I acquired some colourful vocabulary to deal with the changing times.