Complimentary angles

It's a tricky business giving compliments -- or receiving them for that matter 

Compliments. They seem uncomplicated on the surface. But dig a little deeper and you realize that they are nothing short of a potential minefield which may explode in your face at any moment. 

 

How many times have you bumped into an old friend and been greeted by, “Wow, you’ve really lost weight?” It’s meant to be a compliment and meant in the best possible way. But every time that happens to me, my first thought it, “How fat did you think I was before?” I never say that out aloud, of course, for fear of seeming churlish. But that unspoken thought rankles for far too long afterwards.

 

For my part, I have made a resolution to never reference anyone’s weight when I am framing a compliment. Far better to say, “You’re looking good today.” Or even, “That dress looks lovely on you!” But when I mentioned this to my husband, he looked rather dubious. That would never work for him, he muttered after a moment’s thought. If he said anything like that to a woman he would be afraid of being accused of being ‘lookist’ or ‘sexist’ or any other ‘ist’ that you can think of. 

 

I had to concede that he had a point. In the post MeToo world, men have to virtually tread on eggshells when it comes to complimenting women – even those whom they know well. And referencing a lady’s appearance is a strict no-no, unless you want to fall foul of the politically-correct posse that polices our every utterance these days. Far better to say nothing at all than risk getting battered.

 

There are some people who find it impossible to accept compliments no matter how innocuous or flattering. Some of my friends number among them. Compliment them on an outfit that is clearly just off the catwalk and they will brush it off with a laconic, “Oh this old thing! I have had it for ages!” Congratulate them on an award they have received and they will respond with, “Oh, it was nothing much, really.”

 

This may be partly down to embarrassment, but I often feel that too many of us are hardwired to brush away compliments – or even worse, be needlessly cynical about the motives of those who compliment us. I find myself falling into that trap quite often too – and have to make a conscious effort to not question why someone is complimenting me, but to just accept graciously.

 

The best way to respond to a compliment is simple, of course. All you need to do is smile and say “Thank you.” But strangely, that seems to be difficult for many of us to master. So, sometimes we feel obliged to respond with a return-compliment, which always comes off as laboured and fake. Sometimes we act as if we don’t really deserve the compliment, thus making the giver feel like a bit of a git.

 

So, next time someone says that you are looking nice, or that they loved your book, or even that your home is lovely, just relax into the compliment rather than resisting it. Enjoy the feeling of being appreciated instead of interrogating it. And if you feel the urge to respond with anything other than a heartfelt ‘thank you’, fight it. 

Compliments of the season

There is an art to both doling out praise and receiving it

Last night I met some old friends for dinner. It had been a long day and I really couldn’t be bothered to dress up. And besides, with old friends you don’t need to, do you? So, I pulled out an old black Anokhi kurta (my go-to outfit for all I-can’t-really-be-bothered occasions), now almost grey through over-use, pulled on a pair of jeans and headed out.

So, imagine my surprise when the nice English lady at the next table leaned over and said, “I love what you’re wearing.”

“Oh, this old thing,” I replied, startled into candour. “I’ve had it so long, it’s practically falling apart.”

She started to laugh. I looked rather taken aback (as indeed, I was). At my enquiring gaze, she replied, still chuckling, “I just can’t get over how English that response is. That’s exactly what we’d say back home if someone praised an outfit. ‘Oh, this old thing’.”

I smiled weakly and turned back to my pasta primavera. It was too complicated to explain that this really was an ‘old thing’. That I had had it for years and worn it to near-death. And besides, explaining would look as if I was ‘protesting too much’ (also a very ‘English response’, no doubt). So, it was probably for the best to smile and move on.

But that little exchange got me thinking. What is the right way to receive a compliment? Getting all self-deprecatory and going “Oh, this old thing”? Or being gracious and responding with a heartfelt, “Thanks so much”?

I have to say that my instinctive responses fall into the first category. If someone tells me that I look as if I’ve lost weight, I protest wildly that I weighed myself just this morning and that is Simply Not True. If a dish I have made elicits some praise, I hasten to assure everyone that “Really, I’m not much of a cook”. If anyone says they enjoy reading my column, I smile weakly and mutter, “Oh, you are far too kind!”

And yes, if someone compliments me on what I’m wearing, I rarely ever respond with a simple ‘thank you’. Instead, I rush in with a veritable flurry of idiotic comebacks. “Oh, I got this from Marks and Spencer. Such good value!” “Oh yes, this works well in the summer.” “But I love what YOU are wearing!” Or the ever-reliable standby: “This old thing. I’ve had it for years.”

None of this, now that I think about it, is the right response to someone who is giving you a compliment. The graceful thing would be to acknowledge the praise, say ‘Thank you so much’ and move on. Instead, I end up either embarrassing the other person into thinking he/she has committed some sort of social solecism (‘How dare you say I am looking thinner? I know you are just making this stuff up because you think it will make me feel good”) or indicating that I don’t really value their judgement (“Can’t you recognize a tattered old kurta when you see one?”). Or worse, I act as if receiving a compliment implies a duty to reciprocate in kind (“Your earrings looks amazing”) which only makes me come off as an insincere sod.

In retrospect, as I re-examine those encounters, I probably ended up seeming prickly, defensive, insecure and yes, insincere, to all those who took the trouble to compliment me. And to them (you know who you are, all three of you!) I offer my sincere apologies and the promise to do better next time. In fact, I am going to practice my ‘thank yous’ in front of the mirror every night before going to bed.

There’s just one exception: those who seem to be paying you a compliment but manage to slip in an insult in the subtext. You know the kind I mean, don’t you? “Wow, you are looking so amazing. You really are good at make-up, aren’t you?” “Your daughter is so pretty. Good thing she takes after your mother-in-law.” “What great food at the dinner last night. You really must give me the number of your caterer.” Or even that old stand-by, “You look so much thinner! Have you been dieting?” guaranteed to make the other person wonder just how fat he/she looked before.

Of course, if you put these people – who specialize in putting a sting in the tail – to the test, they would protest that they were completely sincere in their praise. And that you really should not be so ‘sensitive’ or ‘quick to take offence’. But anyone who has been at the receiving end of their loaded ‘compliments’ knows better.

See, just as there is an art to receiving a compliment, there is also an art to giving one. And if you want a simple, heartfelt ‘thank you’ then you should desist from lacing your compliments with even the merest suspicion of malice.

So, how about you try this. Tell a woman she looks amazing, but desist from adding ‘for your age’. Compliment a man on his leather jacket; don’t add that he is ‘very brave’ to wear that. If you are praising the food someone served at dinner, don’t imply that it was anything other than the handiwork of the hostess/host. And don’t, for God’s sake, mention the mother-in-law!

Say please!

This year, let’s try and revive that quaint old concept called good manners

The first day of the New Year. What better way to mark it than with a fun family lunch? Well, that was the plan, anyway. But things didn’t quite work out that way. Because the next table was occupied by a large, extended family, which came complete with many small children, all of whom came equipped with their own toy horns. Yes, I kid you not, actual horns, which make the most godawful noise when you blow into them. Which is exactly what these kids did, over and over again.

Ah well, kids will be kids, right? The poor mites, they really don’t know any better. But what about their parents (and grandparents)? Surely, they couldn’t be oblivious to the pained looks being cast in their direction by all the other diners? And there was no way they couldn’t have heard that loud shushing sound emanating from that irate lady at the corner table (well, okay, it was me!).  

But not one adult on that table managed to muster up an embarrassed look. Not one of them stopped stuffing their mouths with butter chicken long enough to admonish the horn-touting children. And it certainly never occurred to them to confiscate the horns from their hyperactive kids so that the rest of us could eat in peace.

Oh no, that would be asking for too much. Because good manners, and a little consideration for others, is not something that you can ever expect from your fellow human beings these days. Everybody is far too busy – eating, working, texting, tweeting, or whatever else it is they do – to actually take a moment to discipline their children.

Is it any surprise then that these spoilt, entitled brats grow up to drive Daddy’s car far too fast, having had a bit too much to drink, and don’t spare a thought for the safety of other people on the road? Isn’t it only to be expected that these children grow up to believe that the rules don’t apply to them, because they are oh-so-special? After all, didn’t Mummy and Daddy bring them up to believe just that? And, as sure as night follows day, they will bring up their own children in exactly the same way.

Which is why, this year I intend to launch a campaign to revive that quaint old concept: good manners. You know, the kind that they taught us in school when we were growing up. Speak softly when you are in company. Say hello or offer to shake hands when you meet someone. Say ‘please’ when you want something and ‘thank you’ when you get it. And don’t lie flat on the floor and throw the mother of all tantrums if you don’t. 

So here, in no particular order of importance, are just some of the things that I would like to see happen this year (and every year thereafter):

• That people put their phones on silent during business meetings, while eating at restaurants or watching a movie – and better still, slide them into their pockets or purses. There is nothing more annoying than to be discussing business with someone whose one eye is on his/her phone, who keeps picking it up when it beeps to check messages, and then starts replying to these messages, ignoring you completely. We’ve all had dinner with that self-important sod, who keeps taking calls all through the meal or texting incessantly, telling you with every swipe of the screen that you are not really worthy of his/her full attention. And then, there are those obnoxious creatures who keep their phones on in movie halls, picking them up every 10 minutes to whisper loudly, “I am in a movie,”. Oh, for God’s sake, put it away already!
• That people respect other people’s time as they would their own. So, doctors don’t give you an appointment for 2 pm and then see you a good two hours later. Your friends don’t fetch up for dinner for 10 pm when the invitation clearly said 8.30 pm. And that everyone finally realizes that it doesn’t take much effort to call people to say you’re running late. Only don’t text if you are in a business meeting (see above).
• That ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ see a revival in their fortunes, and become a part of everyone’s vocabulary. A very well-mannered friend of mine, who always holds the door open for those coming through after him, has a nice passive-aggressive way of dealing with people who fail to say ‘thank you’. As they rush past him, heads bent over their smartphones, he says loudly, “You are very welcome!” Nine times out of then, the offenders are shamed into saying a belated ‘thank you’. The tenth person of course glides away, oblivious to the call for good manners. But, as a strategy, it is not a bad way to call people out for their bad manners and force them to do the right thing.

Will any of this work? Or am I just fighting a losing battle and setting myself up for disappointment yet again? Well, I’ll let you know how this little social experiment works out in a year’s time. Until then, be good, stay nice, and thank you so much for your time!

Mind your manners

Turn up on time; say sorry if you’re late; and a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ wouldn’t go amiss…

These days wherever I go I hear people bemoaning the demise of good manners. Just off the top of my head, these are some of the biggest bugbears: those who conduct long conversations on their mobiles while ignoring everyone else at the dinner table; those who let their kids run riot in public places without any attempt to discipline them; those who never bother to say thank you (never mind writing a thank-you note) for a birthday present or a dinner party; those who arrive late as a matter of course and never ever bother to apologise for their tardiness.

As you can see, the list is long and exhaustive. But what is most worrying is that what seems boorish and offensive to some is seen as perfectly acceptable behaviour in someone else’s book. Most of the serial offenders, when confronted with evidence of their ‘bad manners’, confess that they had no idea that they were, in fact, offending anyone. (Arre, what’s a 15 or 20-minute delay between friends, was the most common response.)

So when it comes right down to it, what are good manners? And is there a bare minimum that we can all agree on in an effort to keep the wheels of social discourse running smoothly?

Well, first off, good manners dictate that you don’t make people around you feel ill at ease, gauche, awkward or plain ignorant. It is perhaps best illustrated by the famous – and possibly apocryphal – story of Queen Victoria who was entertaining an African chief (or the Shah of Persia, depending on which book you believe) at a royal banquet. When the finger bowls were laid out at the end of the meal, for the diners to wash their fingers in rose water, the visiting potentate picked up the bowl and started drinking from it. Completely unperturbed, the Queen followed his lead, gesturing to all the other guests to follow suit, so that he wasn’t embarrassed about having done the wrong thing.

Now that is what good manners are all about: making the other person feel at ease at all costs. And we will all be better people if we assume them in our everyday life.

Don’t snicker when the shop assistant mispronounces the name of a French label. If you really want to correct her it’s much nicer to just repeat the name with the correct pronunciation. Do it a couple of times – with a straight face please – and she will get the message. You really don’t need to humiliate her in the process. If one of your dinner guests appears uncomfortable using cutlery to eat such tricky stuff as crab on the shell, start eating with your hands so that he can follow suit without feeling he has committed some sort of social solecism. If you can tell that the mother of a colleague is not too fluent in English, switch to Hindi halfway through the conversation. If the parents of a young child are mortified when he spills his drink on your pristine carpet, tell them it doesn’t matter; you were bored of that colour anyway.

Making other people feel small is the height of bad manners; don’t do it. Be gracious; be charming; be kind. And don’t grudge the odd white lie you have to utter in the process.

And while you are at it, don’t forget that the essence of good manners is treating other people’s time with the same respect as you accord your own. If you have made an appointment keep it; if you are running late, phone and apologise. If you have accepted an invitation to a sit-down dinner, turn up. And be there on time; don’t saunter in when the main course has been served and then depart before dessert can be wheeled out. A lot of effort has gone into putting the meal together. It won’t kill you to sit down and appreciate it.

If you are with people, pay attention to them. If you are expecting an urgent call that you can’t possibly miss, apologise in advance. When it comes through, keep it short. Or else excuse yourself and conduct it in private. Don’t keep messaging, tweeting or Facebooking when you are in company. It is just a non-verbal way of telling those you are with that they are not important (your social media presence is). So, stop fiddling with your Smartphone or staring at your Ipad; invest in some face-time instead.

But most important of all, don’t forget that basic courtesies go a long way: saying ‘sorry’ when you tread on someone’s toes instead of just brushing past; an ‘excuse me’ when you are intruding into a conversation or someone’s private space; peppering your speech with ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. This politesse costs you nothing and buys you an enormous amount of goodwill. (And it’s even better if you can throw in a winning smile for good measure.)