Truth and lie. Separated by a thin line of trust. On one side of the line, every lie seems believable, on the other, no truth is convincing. All it takes to cross over to the other side is a half truth, a total lie that’s caught, transgressing the lines of faith and trust. Speaking the truth would seem like an easy task, but what secrets make it so difficult?
You build a relationship on trust and you build your trust on perceived honesty. If the perception of honesty isn’t strong enough to build your trust on, the relationship has failed. Infidelity – emotional or physical – between lovers is that failure of faith at some level.
And why just lovers? In dishing out incomplete truths and true lies, we are all infidels.
In the Mahabharata, when Yudhishthir announced that Ashwathdhama had died during war and let the bit about the death being that of an elephant and not of Dronacharya’s son drown under other sounds, was he lying? In that moment, was Yudhishthir being an infidel? Did he cheat on guru Dronacharya? Is concealing the truth not a lie?
So why do we do it – take recourse to dishonesty in our relationships? When does the ‘I’ leave the ‘us’ behind and become an ugly battle of your word against mine? Could it be possible that my truth is your lie?
And why am I asking these questions? I just realized that my most important relationship had crossed over to the wrong side of the line.