Search

30 and Learning…

The journey continues

Category

philosophy

Distance

45394162-AF85-4765-8A42-4BFA05D3B101Out of sight, out of mind… or distance makes fonder… which is it?

It’s not a simple question. It’s also not as black and white as that. These are, in fact, two ends of a spectrum. We meet many people during our lifetime and everyone falls somewhere in between, with very few, if at all, hitting the “fonder” end of the spectrum.

Considering the large number of people we encounter, I’d say most people remain close to the “out of sight” end. These are the people we don’t make any soul connections with. We either interact with them briefly, or even if it is for an extended time, the interaction only remains superficial and purely transactional. We never get to see who they really are. They don’t get to see who we really are. There are no emotional bonds, and we never find ourselves simply thinking about them for no reason.

Then there are those who touch our souls to varying extent. There are friends with whom we share a part of our lives. They may or may not understand us fully, but they know us better than most. These people may be out of our sight but they are never entirely out of the mind. We think about them on special occasions, or sometimes just like that while reminiscing. Sometimes certain things remind us of them. Once we’ve exposed our soul to someone, even in part, that person can never be out of the mind regardless of how seldom we see them.

There’s a handful of people who carry a part of us, like family. No matter where we go, we don’t stop thinking about them. It’s not an active process of thinking but something that happens on a subconscious level. I may not speak to my family for days, but not a day goes by when I don’t think about them. It’s not missing, it’s not reminiscing. It’s more like them crossing my mind multiple times in a day for no reason and without any specific emotion involved. Soulmates fall in this category too. Soulmates don’t always have to be romantic partners. These are people we feel instant connection with. These are people we can open up to without any hesitation. It’s almost as if they already know us. It doesn’t matter how much or how little time we spend with them, these bonds develop almost instantly. Our soul never forgets these people even if we were to never see them again.

So “out of sight, out of mind” doesn’t apply to everyone we meet. But just because these people are on our mind, occasionally or constantly, does the distance between us make us any fonder? Perhaps not.

Distances can be of different types. There are physical distances, and of these physical distances there are those that can be overcome and those that cannot be overcome. Some of my closest friends are oceans apart. My family lives in a different state. These are distances I can overcome if I really want to, and maybe that’s why these distances don’t make me any fonder of these people than I already am. My love for them remains unchanged. They are my soul connections. 

But there are distances that cannot be overcome, like those that come with passing away. I have lost two people in the last year who were very dear to me – my grandma, and a nameless lover; and I can never bring these people back. I do, however, think about them everyday. I think about my grandma every morning when I’m making my smoothie, because I use the blender that once belonged to her. I have other things in my household that were hers and are a constant reminder to me. I think about her every time I’m making roti because she’s the one who taught me how to make one, and I have such precious memories of that time. I think about my lost love everyday too. The insurmountable distance has made me fonder of the memories I have of these people, but not necessarily of the people themselves. I have accepted that they are gone and I don’t wish for them to come back. In parting, all I remember about them are good things and the good times we shared.

There’s another kind of distance that is not as tangible. It is the emotional distance, and it has no correlation with the physical distance between two people. Sometimes people grow apart living under the same roof. Sometimes people feel close when they are away but when they come together, they realize that they can only love each other from a distance. Other times, people move so far away that they can no longer relate to each other.

I have a very close friend who moved away few months ago. This friend and I are very different and yet very similar. While this friend was around, our similarities overpowered our differences, and we always had great conversations. Since he has moved away though, our differences are slowly overpowering our similarities. He is finally living the life he always dreamed of, which is nothing like the life I dream of. He likes everything fancy and I like everything simple. The last time I spoke to him, I couldn’t relate to anything he said, and suddenly I realized that we are no longer “close” the way we used to be. In fact, I almost did not want to talk to him. 

The emotional distance, then, actually has the exact opposite effect. It can make people less fond of each other, over time killing the fondness entirely.

To conclude, our fondness or love for someone is a complex phenomenon, with distance only playing a small role in it. Out of sight doesn’t always mean out of mind, and distance rarely makes the heart fonder of people… of memories, yes.

 

Compromise

AD043D7F-B895-4895-99EC-C26E0FCD9BE1

The process of writing works in two ways for me. Either I have a restless mind, and I need to write to sort through my thoughts and make sense of them. Or I get engaged in conversations, or have experiences or encounters, that make me think and then I feel the need to document these thoughts, in case they might resonate with someone else. Few of my recent posts have been of the former kind – attempts to ease a restless mind. This post today has been a work-in-progress in my mind since last Sunday.

Last Sunday I was talking to a friend who has been dealing with marital issues for number of years now. During the conversation, this friend said something that stuck with me. My friend said, “two years ago I felt like I had wasted so many years of my life trying to make things work. Today, I feel like I have wasted so many plus two years of my life. If I don’t gather the strength to walk away now, 5/10/15 years later I would simply look back and say, I wasted so many plus 5/10/15 years of my life. And for what? For other people”.

It was a very profound speech. It made me think about how hypocritical, perhaps even sadistic, we are as a society. When it comes to material things we are vying for self-fulfillment. I want a high-paying job, I want a big house, I want the most expensive car my money can buy. We amass wealth but don’t care to help someone in genuine need. We put ourselves and our desires first. But when it comes to things that truly matter, like something as simple as happiness, we preach self-sacrifice. “Compromise” is one word I despise more than anything else, and the statement “every relationship involves compromise” is the biggest lie that has been handed down generation after generation.

The way I see it, a healthy relationship does not make you feel like you’re making a compromise. To the outside world it may appear so but you don’t see it that way. If you do something that you wouldn’t otherwise, simply to make the other person happy, and their happiness makes you happy, you don’t think of it as a compromise. It is how good relationships function. There is a healthy amount of give-and-take because no two people are the same. And people derive happiness from each other’s happiness. On the contrary, it is a compromise when the other person’s happiness does not make you happy. You do things out of a sense of duty or obligation, and that is when you console yourself with the banality of “every relationship involves compromise”. My opinion on this has always been very clear – the day you start feeling like you’re making a compromise, the end is not too far.

And yet people choose to keep making compromises, and keep sacrificing themselves, like my friend, simply for the sake of other people. “How will the other person feel”, “what will my family say”, “how will I face the world” – are some of the common questions people ask themselves but never once do they ask, “do I deserve to be unhappy for the rest of my life?”. We are programmed to feel like wanting happiness for ourselves, real happiness and not the material kind, is somehow wrong, somehow selfish. It saddens me to see just how many people go through life without ever realizing that they have a right to be happy.

Some people think I’m not a romantic because of my views when it comes to relationships. In my opinion, I am a hardcore romantic and that is the reason why I have these views. I will not settle for anything less than love, and I will not sacrifice myself for other people. I have been in love several times. There was a boyfriend of 5 years, a playboy, and recently, a lost love. But I was a different person each time because people are always changing and growing. I could’ve been happy with any one of them, back then. I am not the same person today. So I will wait for the right person to show up. And when it is a love that’s meant to last, we will change and grow together, without making compromises.

So there are those who compromise, and those who don’t. But there’s also a third category of people, and the truly blessed ones I suppose if you believe ignorance is bliss. These are the people who are just too scared to be alone. They have never spent time with themselves and/or have no desire to do so. Although alone and lonely are two very different things, to this group of people they are more or less the same. Not having someone to hold and love makes them sad, hence being alone makes them lonely. They can lose themselves just to keep the other person from going away and leaving them behind. So compromise becomes a moot point because everything they do is to ensure that they don’t end up lonely. I was talking to someone else during the week who more or less falls in this group. He is going to be taking a trip soon but he did not sound excited about having to do it alone. So I suggested signing up for a guided tour where he could be part of a group. He responded saying that if the group is full of couples it will simply make him feel worse. The funny thing is that even right now, he is in love with two people as far as I can tell. But I can’t say if he’ll miss one or the other, or both, in such a situation. He’s the kind of person who loves holding hands while walking. On a date, he would sit next to the girl instead of across from her. But in all of this, it doesn’t matter who the girl is, as long as he has someone to love. He would still hold hands, still snuggle up beside her, and still love her the same way. Compromise, then, is non-existent in his world because happiness simply means being with someone, anyone.

Ultimately, it all comes down to one simple truth – we all deserve to be happy. We may have different ideas of happiness but it’s our right to seek that which makes us happy, and hold on to it should we find it!

Change

4530f1d6-d5ca-4e8d-831a-83a18353dbefChange is coming…

I’m not scared of change, not anymore. I have seen more changes in the last few years than the rest of my life put together. There was a time when I was resistant to change. But it was mostly out of fear – fear of the unknown. I was comfortable with the way things were and trying to imagine life any other way was exhausting. Things can go so many different ways. There’s no way to tell which one of the many possible paths life would take, and not knowing that is what invokes fear. We all get used to living life a certain way, and the smallest change to status quo seems like a threat to our very existence. But over time I’ve learned to accept change as something good. 

Sometimes it’s good to be pushed out of our comfort zone; complacence never did anyone any good. Sometimes the change itself is good, other times it shows us what would be good. Sometimes we want things to change and when they actually do we realize that we had before was all we ever needed. Sometimes change leads us to things we never thought we’d want but then we end up loving them. Regardless of what’s on the other side, a change always serves us well.

I used to think I’d never want to move back to India. But here I am, loving it, rejecting any opportunity to leave again. I used to think I want I a fancy job, a fancy house, a fancy car… now I don’t care for those things. I’ve been there, I’ve done that, and now I know that things don’t make the soul happy, people do. I’m wiser for all the changes I’ve gone through in the recent years and I know myself better. I know what my core values are and I know what are some of the things I absolutely can’t do without. It wasn’t easy to develop this attitude towards change but if we can simply learn to trust the process, accept that what’s waiting on the other side of the change is a good thing, it no longer seems scary.

So once again, the season of change has begun. I was standing at the cusp only recently where I had to make a choice. And no matter which option I chose, change was imminent; status quo wasn’t one of the options. Hence I chose, not with my head, but with my heart. It was scary but exciting at the same time, and I was looking forward to my new life post this change. Then things changed again. The new life that I was supposed to begin relatively soon got pushed out indefinitely. Then something changed yet again and, once more, the universe is presenting me with options.

As I have mentioned in my last several posts, I recently found love and lost it forever. The very fact that I’ve been able to write about it shows that I’m doing ok. It’s been over a month and I’ve developed an acceptance for the reality, as harsh as it may be. I understand that life must go on, and as much as I miss this person I simply cannot bring him back. No one can take his place but it does not have to mean that no one else can share my life. I won’t go into details but someone hinted to me that he’s been looking for a ring, for me. All I’ll say is that I haven’t even met this person.

I was talking to a friend yesterday who asked me what I thought is the “right amount of time” to date before deciding to marry someone. I told her that I’m the kind of person who believes in love at first sight. Sometimes you just know. People make so many rules about love! Checklist of desired qualities, list of dealbreakers, right number of dates, appropriate length of time to date, to live together… as if there was a formula for love! I simply follow my instinct. So when I finally meet this person in a couple of weeks, I will let my instinct make the call.

Change is coming… I just don’t know what it’ll be. Only time will tell!

Blank Space

antique blank camera classic
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.come

No, it has nothing to do with Taylor Swift…

Some days I wake up feeling like I have been buried under a massive rock that I can’t seem to move. Even before any thoughts can start flowing through the mind, even before I am fully awake, just as I am opening my eyes for the first time in the morning, I get hit by an enormous wave of sadness that washes over me, drenches me to the bone. I don’t even get the chance to understand what made me sad and there I am, struggling to get out bed, feeling like I’m carrying the weight of the whole world upon my shoulders.

There are two kinds of sadness. There’s one that we impose upon ourselves. We miss something or someone and we keep thinking about them and everything we miss about them. We are actively engaged in the process of reminding ourselves of our loss. Or we want something badly, or we think we don’t have something that someone else has and we keep indulging in deliberate self pity over what we don’t have. That’s the kind of sadness that’s easily managed. We simply need to keep ourselves busy and involved in healthy activities. We need to shift the focus from what we don’t have to what we do and be thankful for it. And slowly but surely, all the sad thoughts are replaced with happy ones.

The other kind of sadness is more pernicious. It stays in the background, rearing its head only once in a while, but it never truly goes away. It keeps gnawing at you on the inside and you never truly know the reason for it. That’s the kind of sadness that I’m feeling right now. I’ve battled with depression before so I know how to nip it in the bud. I drag myself out of bed, no matter how burdened I feel; I spend time with the puppy; I eat healthy; I do all my chores; I go to work, stay busy… in fact, I’ve been welcoming extra work so I can stay busy for longer. I am doing everything right to stay happy and healthy. I also avoid doing anything that would bring on the first kind of sadness. And I must add here that despite the sadness I feel, I’m not sad. There is a certain emptiness, a void that just stays. I doubt this void will ever fill – it will perhaps become part of my existence. 

There are things I want to share, but only with one person. That person is in heaven now, with everything that he could ever want right there. There is no room for me in that perfect paradise. So since he’s not here, I share everything with this empty space. New people will come in my life. Some will stay, others will go, but this space will never get filled. It’s a sad but beautiful thought, and no matter how weak I wake up, this thought gives me the strength to power through the day. And then the next day, I wake up happy because everything I want is right here in my heart, including this blank space.

Choices

 

671F1570-775B-4C0C-95CB-093E2E12EE7C.jpeg

Destiny or free will?

I daresay that’s a question as old as humanity itself. Since man developed the cognitive prowess to think and reason, people have wondered why things happen to us the way they do. Is it all preplanned or do we shape our own lives? Some people believe in absolute destiny – that our lives follow a fixed blueprint that was created by some higher power long before we were born. Others, mostly those who do not believe in the existence of such higher power, believe that we create our own destiny by the choices we make.

I’ve never had a firm opinion on the matter, instead still searching for an answer. One thing that I do firmly believe in is that there are no absolutes in life. So I guess I neither believe in absolute destiny nor in absolute free will. I came across a piece recently that seemed to resonate with this idea (wish I had the link to share). What the author said was that there is a plan for all of us but it is up to us to make the choices that will allow us to follow that plan.

To look at it in another way, my life is supposed to be a certain way and yet I can alter its course by making choices that deviate from that course. Since I talked about my nameless relationship recently, I’ll use that as an example. At every step, I had the choice to either continue or run away. My heart said continue and my head said run away. There are very few times when my heart and head are in conflict but I’m a person wholly led by my heart. So I continued, and I am so happy I did, regardless of the pain I feel right now. Because knowing this love was my destiny, it just feels right. I wouldn’t have it any other way and I’d do it all over again if I had to.

That’s the other thing with choices and destiny – if it doesn’t feel right, it isn’t. And that is why I feel that it’s important to think with the heart and not head. Now obviously I don’t mean the literal heart, but what I mean is the instinct, the gut, the intuition… Whatever you want to call it, but there’s always a voice inside that lets us know when we make a wrong choice. So maybe that’s our cue – if that voice inside is not in agreement, maybe we have chosen an option that doesn’t align with our destiny.

But what if someone keeps making the wrong choices all throughout? What if someone completely silences the voice inside? Honestly, I think that happens all the time. The world we live in forces us to be logical, practical, rational – all that manmade cerebral fluff – and ideas like this are considered absurd, even loony! Yet we hear stories all the time about people on their deathbeds, breathing their last, reflecting upon the life they lived and regretting the choices they made, regretting not following their hearts. When in doubt, I wonder that if I died today, would I be happy with the life I lived or would I have regrets? As long as the answer is the former I know I am following my destined path.

And finally, someone might say that what if there are no choices. But I doubt that’s ever the case. We always have choices and whether knowing or unknowingly, we are picking an option each minute. When I had to leave the US, I thought I had no choice, I was forced to leave what had become my home and move back to India. But I had the choice – to marry someone and stay. I wouldn’t have been the first one to do that. Logical people do it all the time. But I’m not logical. My heart wouldn’t even consider that as an option. So I chose to leave instead. Leaving Izzie and Milo behind was not an option my heart would ever acknowledge either. And I am so thankful that my inner voice is so loud and clear because if I made either of those choices, I would’ve regretted them immensely. So if I die today, I would die happy, knowing that I chose love each step of the way.

Maybe that is how souls get liberated from the cycle of rebirth. Maybe people who die with regrets have to come back. I don’t know, I have no opinion on that subject either and I’m open to be convinced either way. But that’s for another time; let’s not get too hyperbolic now!

P

Relationships

BEF1EEAD-76BD-43C0-87E1-854B206A5392.jpeg

Relationships are funny business really…

Some relationships have significant labels and yet they mean nothing, and some have no name but they mean everything. I was in a no-name relationship recently, and it is the most beautiful thing I’ve experienced in a long time. We did not have time on our side or we might have given it a name. I might have told friends about it, I might have introduced him to my family – yes, it had the potential. But all of this is pointless because he is no longer in this world. I’ll never see him again, or feel his presence. I’ll never hear his voice or share a comfortable silence with him. He is gone, and yet he is always here.

One might imagine me being sad as I write this but I’m not. I’m actually at peace. I know he loved me, just as much if not more. And he still loves me wherever in this universe he is. I didn’t know that the last time I spoke to him would end up being our very last conversation or I would’ve told him how much I love him but I’m sure he knows that too. I suppose you can say that life was slightly unfair to us, but when has life been fair to anyone! I am simply thankful for what we had. And just because he’s gone doesn’t mean this relationship without a name is over for me. I never told anyone I was in a relationship before but now if someone asks, I simply say that I’m in a long distance relationship. I suppose I’m just trying to preserve his memory for as long as I can. The distance between us is something that no trains, planes or automobiles can cover but how does it matter? Distance is distance – I love him and he’s not here. No one needs to know that he’s gone forever. Sure, in time I’ll move on, find someone else to love but that wouldn’t change the fact that I loved him once upon a time, and if not for this distance, would’ve continued to love him for the rest of my life.

So that was the story of my relationship without a name. We never gave it a label and yet we loved as truly as two people possibly can.

Picture credit: Dearly departed

 

Realization

9B7FA86C-1A99-4404-9A04-55A88A78F5FB.jpeg

This post has been in the making for a really long time now, since my grandmother’s death to be precise…

I started writing a post as I boarded the flight to head back home for her funeral. But that was lost. And ever since then I’ve been writing this in my head, and it has been evolving constantly. It’s as if my whole perception of this experience called life has changed ever since I bid her farewell. Everything I have been feeling since then somehow links back to the moment I saw her for the very last time, in the crematorium, her body being engulfed by flames that rapidly consumed every last fiber of an entire generation.

My grandma was the last surviving grandparent on both sides of my family. My mom’s parents passed away a long time ago. My dad’s dad, whom I was very close to, passed away over a decade ago. So for last several years, my grandma was the last standing pillar steadfastly supporting the weight of a generation, the “elders” as I call them. With her, that generation is gone. And as I sat in the hearse next to my dad and his brother, staring down at the body that was once my grandma, I realized that now my dad and uncle have become that generation, they are the elders. Consequently, I have become their former generation, the adult; I am no longer the kid in the family.

I was also the only grandchild present at my grandma’s funeral. My sister, and my uncle’s daughters, are all in the US. It was neither practical nor possible for them to travel all the way on such short notice. Before I delve deeper into my own thoughts and sentiments, I must make note of couple of things. Firstly, India is a predominantly patriarchal society so all rituals involve sons and grandsons. My family, however, going all the way back to my grandfather, never conformed to such traditions. Secondly, sons and grandsons set the funeral pyre alight as a symbolic adieu to the departed into the afterlife. In modern times cremation units have taken the place of a tradition pyre. Going back to my grandmom’s funeral, I did everything that a grandson would have. As I stood next to my dad and uncle, with tears in our eyes, hands gently resting on the handles of the gurney, gathering the strength to roll it into the cremation unit, I was overcome by the idea that I am more than an adult – I am the only adult who is around! In that moment I was more thankful than ever for the journey I’ve had over the last couple of years that led me back to India, and to that exact place and time where I could stand shoulder to shoulder with my dad and uncle, sharing this responsibility. There was another responsibility that dawned on me that day. Being the only grandchild there, assuming the role of a grandson, all of that also made me feel responsible for the future of my family’s name. There is a certain sense of narsissism associated with starting a family. I’ve always known that but it was never more evident than on that day when I felt the weight of this responsibility upon my shoulders – the responsibility to carry forth the legacy of my family’s name. Of course I have a sister and two cousins, but they are away. Their children will also be away. I am here, and I must keep this name going.

I was overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions over the next few days. As I spent many a evening with my parents and aunt and uncle, sticking together as a family, I started feeling a certain sense of sadness for them. They are now what my grandparents were. And yet, all they had was me. They were happy to have me around, they constantly kept saying it. But shouldn’t they have the joy of having a grandchild or two running around too? A generation had passed but where was the new one? I felt selfish, and yet helpless. I wished I had someone I could marry and have kids with. And the emptiness of my own life made me sadder still.

I was back in Goa after a week and change, and the sadness lingered. Then something strange happened. Someone I had known for only a little while asked me if I would marry him. I felt like jumping and saying yes! I didn’t. My fears were still bigger than my sadness, and this couldn’t have been love or my fears wouldn’t even exist in the first place. But the entire experience has left me thinking about what I want from life. Suddenly I want to get married, I want to have a family. Not for myself but for my parents. I want to make them happy. I want someone to take my family name. I am not ready to be a wife or a parent, but I’m ready to be an adult. It doesn’t even make sense, but that’s more or less my state of mind – it doesn’t make sense!

P

 

Love Will Find A Way

51C48B7F-92AB-45C4-A2A7-713525928674.jpeg

Some days I want to be in love, other days I wonder if I’ll ever be ready for it again…

I’ve been having a lot of conversations about relationships lately. I think it’s because one of my friends is getting married and he keeps trying to convince me that I should start dating seriously too! But it’s been a while since I was in a serious relationship and honestly, I’m not sure if I miss it… or perhaps I don’t allow myself to miss it.

I’ve been in love several times before – with places and with people – and never has it worked out. I’m certainly not the first or the only person in this world who has gone through this pain but I’m one of those people who go on to build every barrier to never have to go through it again. While I can love easily, I’m not so sure if I’ll let myself fall in love just as easily.

I see the two things as being vastly different. The way I see love is that it is unconditional. I can love from a distance and remain detached. But being in love craves togetherness. Being in love comes with hopes and dreams that are founded on the notion of staying together. There is no detachment there. It can evolve into love but to get there requires time; and again, time spent together. I don’t know if I can want someone or something that way again.

I was in love with Buffalo. Leaving Buffalo has been one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. It tore me down, perhaps even killed a small part of me. I had built a beautiful life there that I thought would last forever. It didn’t but I’ll always love Buffalo because I got enough time there. Now I’m beginning to feel familiar emotions about Goa but I just can’t let myself fall in love. Because tomorrow if I have to leave, I don’t think I’d be able to cope with the disappointment. I’ll obviously live but I can’t imagine how long the road to recovery would be.

It is both the beauty and disenchantment of life that we move on. No matter how great the love may be, the resilience of human spirit is much greater. Loss of love cannot actually kill, the spirit endures and survives.

And yet, I refuse to fall in love, with another place… and with another human being. I have become a commitment phobe in a lot of ways. But it isn’t the commitment I fear, it is the possibility that it will not work out. Commitment, in fact, is my strength. I’m the artist-type, a romantic. When I fall, I fall hard. I give it my all. But even my all has never been enough. One might say that it’s because the other person didn’t give it his all. Possible. But what’s the guarantee that the next person I give my all to wouldn’t hold back on me like the others? That he will be just as much in love with me as I with him?

I’m not a pessimist. I like to believe that there’s love out there for me. But I’m trying to strike a delicate balance between realism and idealism. I’m not going to fall in love again until love twists my arm and forces me to. If there is indeed love out there for me, let it come and find me. Let it prove to me that it will last, that it will not leave me wounded this time. I’m going to let someone fall in love with me first before I allow myself to fall in love. I believe in destiny, so if being in love is my destiny then this isn’t a huge ask. Destiny has imposed several things on me, still does, let it impose love on me too!

P

 

 

Expectations

086DF26E-D63D-4C9E-A9FF-048A009400CC.jpeg

You try to guard yourself from all the hurt, and yet it manages to find you…

I’ve been hurting, but I’m not quite sure why. I feel like I have lost something but I can’t put my finger on anything particular. I’ve thought a lot and I think I may finally have an answer.

Yesterday I found out that someone lied to me, and it made me sad. I don’t really know this someone that well, nor do they hold a significant place in my life. Only we can give people the power to hurt us – I believe that. When we love someone, or care about someone, we automatically give them this power. But this person means nothing to me, or I to them. I did not give this person the power to hurt me. It’s the knowledge that I was lied to that seems to have hit a sensitive nerve within me.

The way I see it, we only lie in two situations. We either love someone and want to protect them from the truth. Or because the lie is simply convenient for us. I suppose there could be people who are habitual liars and lie for the thrill of it. But for most ordinary people, the first two conditions hold. This someone lied to me because it was convenient.

The thing, though, is that when you lie simply because it’s better for you to withhold truth you are insulting the person who’s being lied to, especially when the truth affects them directly; when knowing the truth would have changed any or all of the decisions they made. The insult may not be intentional but that doesn’t disqualify it. And I think that is what’s hurting me. I feel insulted. My pride is what I lost, even if momentarily. As much as I can help it, I don’t lie. If at all I do, it is to protect someone I love. I’d never lie to someone for the sheer convenience of it. So when I get lied to, it seems unfair. But the world is unfair, I daresay.

I’ve become indifferent to a lot of things over the years. I have come to expect nothing from people around me. I don’t judge, I give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I have become as understanding and forgiving as reason would allow. But dishonesty has no justification when the underlying intention is to fool or beguile someone. Honesty, then, is the one thing I still expect from people. And what really hurts is the thought that should I give up that too if I want to go through life unscathed? There’s hurt either way. So I’ll hold on to the honesty, and accept the hurt that comes from others’ dishonesty. At least that way I’ll know who deserves a place in my life.

Photo taken by my dear friend, Madhu!

 

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑