THE INVISIBLE WALL

Truth can be deceptive. Sometimes when you start believing a hard core truth it turns out to be a wildest lie and the lifelong lie could prove to be a lethal truth that could churn out the soul from your body. Why can’t lies be just lies? Why do they have to bring some heart wrenching truths along with them all the way? And why does the truth can’t stand alone throughout its journey? Why it has to be accompanied by the lie?

Well!! I have a theory, an answer to these questions. There’s a thin, translucent and invisible wall between truth and lie. And in between that wall there’s a door through which the truth and the lie switch places.

This theory was not built in a day. It took many years of besieged observation and pathetic experience.

All of these damn games of truth and lie began 15 years ago when I turned 20. It was the occasion of my cousin’s wedding. In India there’s a rational rule in every wedding house to find a suitor for the yet to be married boys and girls. I was not spared either (which I came to know later on). I didn’t have the slightest of idea that when I am busy dancing and giggling, my parents are busy presenting me to some random boy’s parents as a marriage material.

Marriage ceremony winded up peacefully, it’s ironic though as Indian weddings are not at all peaceful.

My parents decided to hang on for 2-3 days more. One charming morning the next day when I woke up, all my aunts and uncles and my parents were busy gossiping about one of my cousin’s music teacher. At first I didn’t give any heed to their shit but few pieces from their chit-chat forced me to stretch my ears to get into their conversation.

Later at the breakfast table my cousin said to me “don’t worry I will take you with me at my music class. My teacher is an amazing person. You will know when you meet him.”

I smiled sloppily and paid a visit at her music class. My father accompanied me. He does that every time and everywhere……..well…….almost everywhere.

The person I saw was a middle aged man, not at all attractive, nor seemed to be any special except that he was blind and had a very melodious voice indeed. He welcomed us warmly with glasses of juice and snacks almost instantly. What startled me was, when he asked his servant to bring three glasses of juice when nobody had told him yet about the number of visitors.

He was relatively quiet and all of a sudden he turned his face towards my father, he knew somehow which side my father was sitting and said “you came here for a suitor for your beautiful daughter.”

The samosa almost fell from my father’s hand and I looked at him with dismay. This part of the story was never told to me. My father was equally surprised and he was avoiding eye contact with me. At that moment I was shocked and couldn’t decide that I should wonder at a blind man’s predictions or my father’s lies. 

My father kept the half eaten samosa on the plate and said “no ……..not at all……what are you talking about?” he was stammering.

The man smiled murkily. He said again “the marriage will never happen with the boy you have chosen for your daughter in this city.”

My father said abruptly “why?”

The blind man scoffed and said “your daughter is in love with someone else and she is planning to marry that boy.”

Now it was my turn to faint. I looked at my father and nodded my head for a no. My father gave me a stern look but he didn’t reply back.

I was annoyed with the blind man. What the hell he wanted to prove? Did he want us to know about his skills in fortune telling? But what he was doing was not exactly fortune telling, he was removing the covers from those truths which are better untold.

But he didn’t stop there right away. He said to me this time “he will never marry you. Your lover will never marry you.”

I turned dead pale. Well I knew he was speaking the truth but for my father it was a big fat lie because I never told my parents about my boyfriend. But that was not the matter of concern for me in that moment. My thoughts wandered what the blind man said right now that my boyfriend will never marry me. I needed to talk to my boyfriend right away and so I wanted to go back home immediately. I was so angry.

All the way home my father stayed quite as he thought I am angry because he lied to me about the suitors and all but the truth was not that. I had my own problems which needed to work out as soon as possible.

Later the suitor was rejected but not by me, he was rejected by my father. The reason I never knew nor do I wanted to know. When I returned back to my city, I met my boyfriend and told him everything that had happened with me. He blew it off laughing and assured me for our marriage. I was happy but not fully satisfied. Everything the man told was true. I remembered when we were about to leave his house he asked us if we carried umbrellas or not because it’s about to rain and there was no sound of any thunder or lightning. It was pretty sunny and we laughed out at his words. We were just a couple of meters away from my cousin’s home when; to our horror it started raining. This man had some sort of gift. He got into my nerves. Sometimes I just wondered why my father didn’t ask anything about my relationship with someone, that day. I couldn’t figure it out whether he trusted my truth or that man’s lies or his truth and my lies.

Five years I lived with a lie which I thought to be true. Or I wanted to believe that my love was true and that blind man’s words were a lie. Five years after that incident I married the man my parents had chosen for me. My boyfriend couldn’t go against his mother’s wish. He dumped me at the edge of a long relationship.

I was amazed, furious. I couldn’t accept that blind man’s win.

Now after 15 years of that incident, I know why my father didn’t overreact even after knowing my truth. Somewhere deep down his heart he knew I was lying. He knew whatever the blind man had said will turn out true one day. My father was waiting for that day and he won. They all won. The truth won. Their truth won not mine. Truth is deceptive you see! Now that thin, translucent wall is visible, not to my naked eyes but to my mind’s eyes.