We are told about the monsters that lurk under our beds at night, the ones that exist in human beings, and even the ones we see in movies. But do we ever acknowledge the monster that lurks within the shadows of our minds? Whose sinister whispers constantly scrutinize our every move? Moreover, as students, our minds are so susceptible to changes in the environment around us that even minor inconveniences can drastically influence our decisions, holding us back from our true potential.
Take this extremely relatable scenario; you are in a college lecture hall attending your sociology course. The prof lays out a simple yet baffling question… What differentiates a state and a government? Or rather, how does one define the ‘Indian state’? Then suddenly your mind clicks and ideas begin brewing, but instead of raising your hand vertically, you ‘Heil Hitler’ and awkwardly scratch your head instead. All because that gnarly monster whispers to you, ‘What if you sound stupid?’ you immediately second guess yourself causing you to wait for someone else to answer first instead. Yet the irony reveals itself minutes later when someone else jumps to ask a question you buried in your throat. And instead of questionable glances they receive nods of approval. That’s when the realisation strikes you that the monster had lied to you the entire time.
We blame others, and even ourselves, for conceding to this monster, and in doing so, we fall prey to it. In our quiet moments, it sends hushed breaths that send shivers down our spine, to doubt our confidence — it’s that ghastly voice that disguises every “What if I’m right?” into “What if I sound stupid?” For these reasons, we become afraid to voice our ideas in a large crowd. Psychology may give this phenomenon fancy words, but I simply call it the mind monster, as it provides a more tangible representation of something we cannot physically face. Like any other monster, it needs to be slain. And as its monster slayers, it falls upon us to fight back and firmly say, “What if I don’t sound stupid?”
However, we must also consider the latter, the times we do fall prey to this monster. What happens then? I like to call it the compounding effect, where staying silent once makes it all the more enticing to stay silent the next time… and every instance after that as well. Because when you really think about it, the only person who mentally keeps account of dumb questions is YOU. Since everyone is busy battling their own monsters, no one has the time to notice yours. Strangely enough this never ending cycle of doubt requires only one shaky question rather a ‘dumb question’ to prove that the monster was bluffing all along and only whispered lies into your ear. The moment we realise that our question demonstrates more of our courage than our “stupidness” is the moment we unearth versions of ourselves we never thought possible. The world has produced every possible product to reduce human work but our inquisitiveness and ability to question the existing is something irreplaceable, no monster can take away from us.