We’re creating a society of liars who think it’s okay to lie, and we’re passing this silly culture of filtering only the so called polished image of ours to the new generation. They, in turn, are as confused as to what’s polished that they don’t know to what extent they are real or fake……or what is real or fake!
We’re taught to lie. My mom used to increase the price of my dresses with aunties. Mom and dad used to tell their friends that I’ve stood first in class even if my position was third at times.
And behind the doors: “See, others’ parents scold their kids for not having stood first. We’re covering up for you, so you’ll perform in next exams, na?”
My grandmom is a big fat liar. Grampa has two wives, his attention is divided, and she can’t bear it. Whenever grampa is with the other grandmom, she falls ill. And grampa, despite knowing she’s not really ill, comes to stay with her, showers her with his love – which is fake, of course! And grandmom even doesn’t realize we all know she’s not ill.
I, by all these means, consider myself to have grown up in a very lie-friendly environment. It hurts, you know, I try to tell truths but for obvious reasons, I find myself sometimes exaggerating the truth, or I have these layers of lies and truth about every issue that I find it hard getting to the real thing. And about my emotions, I‘m so unsure of them that almost every suggestion can affect how I feel. This is terrible.
When I watch English movies or even sitcoms, I’m fascinated by the ease with which they express themselves and, you see, it’s a culture.
Honesty should’ve been one of the biggest virtues passed over to the young; but here, we teach kids to win by hook or by crook. We pass cheats to kids during SLC exams – that’s a national phenomenon. We buy the seats meant for scholarships, say, in an MBBS entrance exam. We fake student ID cards in public transport. We push over in queues. We lie about the new jeans brought from a shop in the corner. We lie about what we had for lunch. We lie about the amount of our pocket money, about how friendly our mom and dad are, about what we think of colleagues, about our dreams, about our backgrounds, about our boyfriends and girlfriends.
And all of this is viral!
And now that we make up almost everything and everyone in our lives, what are we honest about? Where are we real? When for a single moment can we actually be free?
Lies, as I’ve known, don’t set us free. They are responsibilities to be carried, liabilities, without which we could’ve been much lighter. I feel there’s immense pleasure in projecting yourself raw, without any glosses. I used to think that it takes an honest listener for the speaker to be honest. You know someone with whom you can be totally comfortable with is important. But it can always be the other way round too, right?
Truth could always start with us. After all, why should the person listening affect your honesty? Yes, it comes to that point. If we could make truth and transparency our traits, like we breathe whether anyone else is around or not, maybe we could be honest with everyone, not just with mom, dad, or our closest of friends.
That thought, for me, is liberating. It’s setting myself free. It’s not having to live with a body and two thoughts. It’s getting closer to who I really am, a process of empathy that starts with, well, empathy.
Related story
NC not honest in electoral alliance: Maoist Center
