Millennials Meet The Gen Z Stare: A Side Of Stoicism With Your Watermelon Curry

July 15, 2025: At a recent food tasting in Dwarka—specifically at the newly opened and intriguingly experimental Matram—the dinner plates weren’t the only things offering layers of complexity. Somewhere between tandoori gucchi mushrooms and a delicately spiced mutton main, an unexpected theme emerged around the table: the unflinching, unreadable Gen Z stare.

Not just a glance. Not a look of disapproval. It’s that signature, flat, emotionally elusive expression that has begun to haunt many millennial bosses who came of age in offices where nodding, smiling, and a firm “Yes, boss” were the norm—even if they were muttering dissent into their chai later.

Now, in a world of boundary-setting and unapologetic self-prioritization, Gen Z employees are walking into meetings with statements—not just on PowerPoint slides, but on their faces.

“I Was Having a BT”

Take the story of a manager whose new hire ghosted the office after three days—only to reappear a few days later as if she’d popped out for lunch. When questioned, she delivered the now-iconic line: “Oh, I was having a BT.” Not burnout. Not bronchitis. Just a Bad Trip. Delivered with the kind of stoic calm that could make your performance review notes blur.

The manager looped in HR, half-expecting a medical emergency. What he got was a new cultural lexicon—and that stare. The one that dares you to say more, to challenge her emotional weather forecast, or even ask what “BT” fully entails.

Meetings, Ideas, and the Silent Audit

Another friend shared how he now finds himself second-guessing himself in brainstorming meetings, not because his ideas are bad—but because of the judgment-free, feedback-free Gen Z gaze. “I’ve presented to boardrooms of intimidating executives, but one quiet twenty-something telling me, ‘I don’t think that’ll work,’ without flinching or blinking? That shook me.”

It’s not hostile. It’s not rude. But it’s enough to derail your confidence with more precision than a sarcastic jab.

Dress Codes and Dialogue Blocks

Then there’s the now-legendary tale of the young woman who showed up for a high-stakes client meeting wearing a T-shirt that read: “These are not my eyes. They don’t talk.” When gently told by a senior colleague that perhaps such attire wasn’t suited to the occasion, she didn’t raise her voice. She raised… nothing. Just the stare. The “explain yourself if you dare” face that stops policy enforcement mid-sentence.

Quiet Rebellion or Just Quiet?

So what exactly is the Gen Z stare? A new form of workplace resistance? A boundary-setting tool? Or is it just plain emotional detachment in a hyper-connected world?

For a generation raised on face filters, instant feedback, and mental health awareness, perhaps the stare is a statement: “I’m here. I’m listening. But I’m not performing for approval.”

Layers of Flavour, Layers of Meaning

One thing everyone agreed on: Matram’s food had depth, creativity, and spice. And so did the conversation. The experimental watermelon curry raised eyebrows. So did the Gen Z approach to work.

As we dug into chili prawns and deconstructed our generational communication gaps, the question hung heavy in the air:

Do we adapt to this new language of silence and stares, or do we find a middle ground between open feedback and emotional opacity?

For now, we’ll keep chewing on it—both the food and the dilemma.

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