Honesty is The Best

Since we could barely talk, haven’t we all been taught the age old adage ‘Honesty is the best policy.’ From out mothers to our kindergarten teachers to random posters on the road, they all preach it. But still, can we all honestly (the irony! :D) say that we’ve stuck by this saying? That we’ve always, always told the truth?

Obviously, no.

It’s not always easy to say the truth. In fact, you know how people say it’s harder to say the truth than an untruth? I dont agree with this. I’m sure I’m not alone in having experienced times when its apparent that saying the truth is going to get me into trouble, so instead, I lie, just to save my skin. In a way, this is so much easier. But then, we also end up having to deal with the complication of lies upon lies… a whole web of lies. And in the long run, this becomes so tough, because you need to keep all those lies straight in your head. If you misstep, well, you’ll have to face the consequences. Its at times like these that you think, ‘You know what? I should’ve just told the truth and been done with it.’

This is one time when I felt that telling the truth was so much easier than anything else:

I remember one time, when I desperately, desperately wanted to go out with my friends to a party, but my Mum wasn’t ready for us to be on our own unchaperoned. She offered to come along wit us, but then, c’mon, who wants their mother to tag along with them when they’re with their friends? So I told her that my friends had changed the plan and they weren’t going after all, and ergo, neither was I. All was well.

But the thing was, there was no such change of plans. I decided that there wasn’t any harm in going to the party, and went anyway. The party was at a restaurant, and it was to celebrate the birthday of someone who I wasn’t very close with, but hey, a party is a party, right? So I went.

At first there was this thrilling sense of liberation that I’d escaped the diktats of my parents, but after about a quarter of an hour, I began to feel really uncomfortable. I wasn’t able to let my hair down and just have fun. The fact that I’d lied to my parents was constantly nagging me, lurking there at the back of my mind. Despite all of my friends’ efforts, I still couldn’t simply forget the wrong that I’d done.

I started wondering why exactly I’d lied to my parents? Saying the truth would’ve been so much better. I lasted for about an hour and a half, before I gave in and called my mother. I confessed, and asked her to come pick me up. I wont say that I didn’t face any repercussions, because I did. I was grounded for about two weeks, I think. But it soon became apparent that it was a good thing that I’d confessed, since soon after I’f left, a huge fight broke out at the party, and security had to be called in.

So at the end of the day, I learnt two things:

I’m just not the kind of girl who can lie to her parents and be okay with it.

And second, it’s always better to say the truth. And if there’s something that you really want to do that the ‘powers that be’ are reluctant to permit, you sit them down and explain rationally why you want to do whatever it is you want to do.

Ending on a light note, here’s a heart warming video that’s kind of similar to my story:

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This post is written for the IndiBlogger Happy Hours programme, courtesy Kinley.

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