Words

In everyday life, doublespeak seems to be an expectation. When you meet strangers, your interactions are characterized by this, with words exchanged of "How are you doing?" and "The weather is nice," which don't really mean anything. Instead, they convey a message about the kind of person you are. They paint you as someone who is a good enough person to be kind to strangers, as someone that anyone can have a decent interaction with. This always seems to be the case with such language in relationships where the two people are either unfamiliar with each other or take on a professional connotation. When you form actual connections, such as those with friends and family, such expectations drop. This is expected, since close connections come with the expectation that you can say more of what you really mean without worrying about social niceties. After all, friends and family have stuck by you through hardship and are not as easily dismissed by not being greeted with proper politeness and small talk. In fact, I feel like the way you say what you don't mean switches, actually. In society, you say what you don't mean to be kinder. You're trying to portray yourself as more considerate than you normally would be. With people you've already formed close connections with, you don't have to build that reputation. You're not trying to put on an image of kindness and compassion because they already know about the natural versions of those qualities that you carry. In fact, I noticed that among my friendships and family, we say the opposite of what we mean in the form of insults and teasing. We say that we dislike each other and make fun of each other, but it's all words we don't mean. In a sense, it's that the idea of actually meaning such words is so ridiculous that saying them already creates a joke. Obviously, anyone can take this too far, where it becomes legitimate bullying rather than a form of friendship. However, I still found it interesting how different the words I don't mean are in these different contexts.  

Name

The only thing I really hate about my name is the confusion it causes for me. I'm already a quieter person, and I don't like having to ask questions that seem dumb to others. So, every time someone is calling out names, I have to try really hard to hear mine. I don't want to miss it because someone pronounced it wrong, but I also don't want to accidentally respond to someone else's name. The most common mispronunciation of my name is Nishika, which is the real name of a few other people. Half the time I hear someone say Nishika, I respond to it. Sometimes it ends up being right, and sometimes it ends up being the actual Nishika. I know it's not technically their fault, especially when it's someone's first time saying my name. But I hate having to be confused about who they mean when they say that name. I don't mind having similar names at all, and I wouldn't change my name. Having similar names is honestly what might have kick-started my friendship with Nishika, and I'm grateful for that at least. I just hate being confused and then having to ask people a question that they deem completely obvious. If not Nishika, the next default name is Nishita, which I don't really get because the "th" sound exists in America. However, there's usually little mistake about who this name is meant for, so it's moreso a bit annoying than confusing. 

Am I really one to talk though? I've mispronounced my fair share of names, even my own.

Style

The children of the Naricema also partake in a daily ritual, a rite of passage to adulthood. Every day, they awaken at the break of dawn and perform their bathing rituals. Then, they are sent off to the temple, a place referred to as loohcs, where they are forced to wander its halls while carrying large loads on their backs. It’s a miracle there aren’t major spine development issues considering the frequency of this ritual. They continue this for hours of their day, with brief periods of respite where they sit in rigid formation. During these periods,  they are led by trainers, who are entrusted by the society to lead the children through this ritual every day, essentially meant to train them for the rituals they will have to perform as adult members of the society. Despite this purpose, it does seem that this ritual doesn’t achieve its touted purpose. As I’ve been able to speak with the children, they all express a distaste for this ritual. They loathe spending such a large portion of their day entrapped in the building of the loohcs. Even the adult members I’ve discussed this with have conveyed their unhappiness going through the ritual as children, though they see no reason to change the ritual to make it less grating. It seems that going through it themselves has only indoctrinated them into believing this ritual is essential to society and cannot be changed in any way. Yet another odd characteristic of the Naricema makes itself clear.