We lie to save ourselves from nasty situations. Some sort of a defense mechanism. To deny reality and to steal from someone the right to information. Lying starts from an early age. Although we are taught to tell the truth, somehow, lying is something we learn from birth. Like pulling back our hands from a hot object. Or running away when we sense danger. Maybe this is why so much emphasis is given to truth. Because to be truthful takes a lot of courage.
Some lies are small. Momentary bluff, they save us from those trivial troubles. And sometimes we lie to please others. We dont want to embarrass the other person or hurt them. So we just lie a little to comfort them as we go our way.
But have you noticed the times we lie to ourselves. For instance, when we do not succeed in something, we console ourselves, and others, by providing an excuse. An excuse based upon stretching the truth to accommodate our failure. The first time we give the excuse, we know in our hearts, that we are lying. As we continue telling the story, each time we get convinced a little more, until finally, the story becomes the reality. The story we had concocted is what we start believing in.
Speaking about myself, I have found that somehow truth does not work with me. Everytime I have mustered up courage to tell the bare truth, I have somehow landed up in trouble. Whereas, when I dress up the truth in a fine garb of lilting words and half lies, people believe me more. This idea seemed so absurd to be that for a long time, I continued experimenting with different sets of people, exposing them to stark naked truths. Believing that the great saints who spoke volumes on the importance of truth, I continued. I met with very strange reactions. Most people continued to disbelieve my version. When I switched to my sweet affected mode, people seemed to find me so right, so correct.
I honestly dont know why his happens. The only possible conclusion I could come up with was that people dont like reality. Because reality is stubborn, unyielding, unbending. It does not depend upon the version or the narrator. It knows no nuances. Whereas fantasy can be changed at our will. If we want to stretch truth, it can be stretched in any way we want. Fantasy is in our control, reality knows no master.
1 comment:
Well written !!!!. The post ellucidates a lot of reasons-perhaps all that makes a person lie. The ending is superb-if the fact is considered that the authoress is not lying now :D All in all nicely woven. No dillydallying-direct to the point.
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