The Truth About Lies

               She smiled. She did a lot of it as she talked. She was always talking thirteen to the dozen and most of what she said was not true. Not that she cared anyway. She excelled in creating lies so realistically that no one suspected her of lying.

                          Amara was her name, so she claimed. (Now I wonder whether it is her real name!) She was always up and about, gleefully trying to make people happy with her corrosive stand-up comedy acts. She maligned others freely, but she said, it was all, to raise a laugh.

                             And laughs she did raise. She lived to raise laughs. But she also lived a lie. Who was this Amara? Who is the real one, the one behind all the masks, one wondered? When the lights went off and she was alone, her pillow soaked with tears as she lived a lie. The truth, the harsh truth came out to taunt her when she was alone.

                          "Who are you, actually? You are not Amara! You are only pretending to be Amara. I know." The ennui would taunt her.

                          "No, I am Amara" she would scream. The ghost would just smile and say, "Tell me another one dude. I know you through and through. May I know if you have ever spoken the truth from the time you were born?"

                          "My Master Down below is tremendously pleased with you and is preparing a place in the Inferior for you to be warm and cozy when you retire." screamed another little devil at her.

                          Amara could not take it anymore. "No, No, No!" she screamed. But no one listened to her. No one seemed to care.

                         In the early hours of the morning, she could sleep a little, fitfully. She got up to face another day. A day of telling lies and living them. At one corner, her rational mind chided her, 'How long will you deceive yourself and others with this charade? Why not own up and tell the truth for a change. Your agony of the night will be a thing of the past and you can live with respect.’

                          But her bubbly self refused. "How can I do that when so many look up to me. My words have a fascinating effect on so many young people. Where would they go if I relent? No, I won't do that"

                          This see-saw of ideas continued to wage a bitter war in the mind of this driven and divided being called perhaps Amara.

                          That evening Evangeline arrived. She looked lovingly at Amara. “Why don’t you come with me for a walk dear child. We will talk as we walk?” she suggested.

                          “What about?” barked Amara, “I know your types, you want to convert me!”

                          “No, dear Amara! I just want to listen to you and spend time with you. You look like you need some friends to share. I want to be that friend for you.” Said Evangeline gently.

                          Amara literally pushed Evangeline back. “Get out from here. I don’t need busybodies like you. Go. Out.” She shouted and pointed her to the door. Evangeline kept looking lovingly at Amara as she slowly left the room. She had no choice.

                          This went on for quite some time. One day the bubble broke. Amara's screams were audible. She was tormented and troubled even as the day broke. She let herself out and ran to the seashore.

                          "Should I lie to myself, still?" she shouted as she plunged into the dark waters of the sea. The tide continued mercilessly and pushed the inert body of what was called Amara into the deep blue sea.

                          Where is this tormented soul now? Do you want to know? Come with me to the underworld. The Master Below was having a huge guffaw as he arranged for a warm reception for Amara. The fires of hell burnt brighter as the minions of Satan danced for glee.

                          "This Amara was mine before and now too. What a victory for me?" shouted Satan as he led the dance for Amara. What about Amara? As she cringed before the sweltering heat of the furnace which invited her, she froze paralyzed and was forced to face her final lie.

                          "How I lied to myself? How I lead so many innocent youngsters into this horrible end?" she lamented. "I wish that someone could go over to earth and undo at least a part of what I did all these years." she yearned.

                          "Lies are true, and, the truth is a lie" shouted Screwtape, one of the minions of Satan as he continued to dance in the furnace. “Boss,” he said, “when that servant of our Enemy Evangeline came into the picture and tried to lure this one, I was a little anxious. Evangeline has lured many of our folk away to the Enemy earlier.”

                          “I knew Amara was made of tougher stuff Screwtape! That’s why I was not bothered. In fact, I am plotting to get Evangeline into our net too, soon!”

“Wah! What a masterstroke that will be!” guffawed Screwtape.

                        He tried unsuccessfully to bring Amara into the dance. But she refused and went to a corner. Her tears this time were real and they flowed freely as she envisaged all those who will eventually face this reality at the end of their lives.

                                            "Who can save us from this terrible lie?" cried Amara. As she cringed in the fire, she recalled how she had ridiculed the claims of Evangeline who came to share the gospel with her. She, Amara had mocked Evangeline, and sent her away in bitter tears. She had come actually to share the gospel of Truth, the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. But Amara had sent her away in disgrace and triumphed over her, as she thought then. Today as she felt her flesh burning, she recalled bitterly how she negated the Truth which would have set her free.

                                   She put her face into her hands and sobbed, “If only I had taken the claims of the Lord Jesus as the truth! I was so enamored with this lie that I lost it. I lost my life, my eternity.”