Monthly Archives: May 2007

>Half truths and true lies

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.


>Tagged! 5 reasons why I blog

The Prince has tagged me. And when Prince commands, can his people disobey?

Another first for me in blogosphere, here. Here are the 5 reasons why I blog….

  1. Because my world is made of words, not images. And here my words speak for themselves.
  2. Because as a writer who likes to share her ideas – unedited – blogging makes sense. It helps me be the honest person that I am.
  3. Because of vanity: I like when people tell me they like my blog!
  4. Because I get to interact with people who aren’t judging me. And people who’re judging be even here can get lost now.
  5. Because it gives me access to all those worlds that can’t me mapped geographically – worlds created by so many different hearts and minds and thoughts and styles and people. I love being exposed to all those.

I’m tagging the first five visitors to this post. And hey, be honest!

>Travel log

Travelling from Lucknow to Delhi takes only six hours. And I was almost ecstatic to see that the AC Chair Cars of the Swarn Shatabdi actually gave its travellers plenty of leg room (not that my legs are too long!) As I nestled into one of those comfortable chairs, I smiled at the thought of dividing the next few hours between flipping through a lifestyle magazine I’d picked at the railway station, engrossing myself in the saga of Shantaram’s eponymous novel and staring out of the window. I waited for my co-travellers to settle into their seats as the train chugged out of Lucknow station: Big Fat uncleji struggled with the overhead luggage, while the PYT fished out her iPod; the exec in the coach took out his laptop to peruse through some Power Point presentations and our Mr. Casanova scanned the bogey with his lecherous eye to settle upon the prettiest girl his myopic vision could find. I spent a few good minutes observing the people around me before turning to chapter 15 of Shantaram and adjusting my eye to the tiny font on the page before me. And that was the precise moment that the 2-year-old sitting two rows ahead of me decided to yelp out in – what was it – hunger, fear, disgust, joy? I don’t know.

If I was thinking I would actually be able to read through the whole chapter without another interruption, I was obviously wrong. For the child didn’t take too long to rouse all the other raucous children in the bogey and just about all of them had found something to scream, shout and squeal about! I waited patiently for their mothers to soothe their frazzled young ones so that I could turn to my book once more and comforted myself by staring at the unattractive scenery outside.

And just when I was getting bored of doing that, Drippy Oil in the next seat decided to put his snoring skills on display. And by the time I’d got used to the sound of a lion roaring in my ear (yes, that’s what his snores sounded like!) Big Belly decided he was going to give DO competition. So all of us without our ear plugs suffered in silence the onslaught of loud snores that could only be drowned by louder talk of Miss Know All who had made up her mind that this was the best time to discuss how her daughter’s sister-in-law’s husband wasn’t the good guy he was made out to be with her own sister-in-law. I didn’t know this Miss Know All, but an hour later I knew exactly why her daughter’s S-I-L’s husband was such a loser!

Forget about Shanataram’s sojourn, I couldn’t even concentrate on the pretty pictures in my glossy magazine in those six hourse! And was left wondering if the railways would be better off categorising its travellers according to their type. I mean, really, all the snorers should be clubbed together into a bogey – spare us the sounds of sleepiness, please. And how about packing all the toddlers and their parents into a single bogey so they can shout their lungs out without travellers like me getting all judgemental about the way they’ve been brought up? And wouldn’t it make more sense to put the Walky Talky travellers in one coach to discuss their extended families and their neighbours in peace? After all, birds of a feather should flock together.

Seems like a decent solution to me. Does anyone know Mr Lalu Prasad Yadav?

>Do we become the person we never want to be?

I’m known for remembering the inanest of details about my childhood. One of them is the way my mother discouraged me from criticising someone too much. She always told me that we unconsciously imbibe the vices we hate most in others because we focus on them so much. It’s a thought that has always stayed with me. And though it might not have served the purpose my mom intended it to, I’ve always feared becoming everything I couldn’t tolerate.

I thought my grandmother’s obsession with cleanliness in the kitchen was beyond unreasonable, till I realised one day I was no different. Like her again, I’d also begun to hoard poly bags obsessively to recycle them. And just like her, I’d started making life so tough for all the house help! Of late, I’d begun to feel my grandma’s soul had come to inhabit my body!

But all that’s still alright, I think, because I loved my grandmother at the end of the day. What I really fear is that as a boss myself now, I’ll become like my ex-boss in whom I’ve seen nothing worth emulating. It’s a nightmare actually. What if I become the horror that an incompetent, inefficient, overbearing, bullish boss can be? No, I haven’t yet been described through any of those adjectives ever yet, but what if?
However, going by what mum says, the reverse must also be true. So if I concentrate well enough on all the admirable qualities of the other ‘good’ boss I had, would I be able to become like him ?