How bland is truth! Spice less, void of dazzle, void of charisma. Just bland sushi for the Indian palette. What fun’s life, without a tad bit of distortion. Distortion of facts, a bit here and bit there. Truth and honesty, is nothing but a fool’s way to conform to proposed eternal happiness. What is truth, when nature itself is so deceiving! But, this power, this skill of falsification, is waste if merely used for cover. No, no fun at all! The devil wasn’t rewarded as the master of hell, for significant blasphemy, no, he conjured a reality, a reality where he conjectured his own truth, his rules, and drew others into that reality! A simple lie, that can manifest one’s psyche, a simple lie that can shred one into pieces, or revive the feeling of what was lost. Ah, that’s power! The power to whirl the brain, until it loses on the grip of reality completely. But, you won’t understand, will you? You’re instinctively bound to feel that truth is virtue, and a lie isn’t. Morality, that’s your defense, ain’t it? The virtue of fucking loyalty, honesty and what not. What if I tell you, that you don’t even understand what truth represents. What if I told you that, truth and lie, the duality isn’t monogamously, a story of Kane and Abel. We live for a Lie, Dear.
We humans deny, on the grounds of morality and virtue, the most powerful thing we’re granted with, the power to imagine, and converting that imagination into reality by simple words. The naïve confuses truth with facts, and ends up stumbling over the same correspondence theory of truth. Truth corresponds facts. Does it have to? What if I told you, the idea of what is true and what’s not is not even yours to comprehend! The duopoly of truth and lies, that you believe so naively is but a linguistic conformation, a peace treaty designation to avoid the most fragrant bellum omnium contra omnes. Nietzsche in his essay says, “Does nature not conceal most things from him-even concerning his own body-in order to confine and lock him within a proud, deceptive consciousness, aloof from the coils of the bowels, the rapid flow of the blood stream, and the intricate quivering of the fibers! She threw away the key. And woe to that fatal curiosity which might one day have the power to peer out and down through a crack in the chamber of consciousness and then suspect that man is sustained in the indifference of his ignorance by that which is pitiless, greedy, insatiable, and murderous-as if hanging in dreams on the back of a tiger.” People at large are never afraid of the deception or the blasphemy as much they fear the consequences for the same. They fear the alternate reality, that does not generally conform to they’re expectations of what it should have been, they are afraid of the possibility of an alternate universe where they may be proved wrong, a universe, that a lie is capable of creating. The idea of the truth and lies is very much grey, the irony being that lie serves as the forensic test for truth. Lend me your mind for a while and I will make it question the very basis of what you understand as truth and lie. For that purpose, let us consider 4 individuals, and let us name them as Bella, Aditya, Rohan and Shruti. Now, we’ll consider a very simple lie, a lie that just involves two persons, nothing more, nothing less. So, say the lie involves Rohan and Shruti, note the truth of its deception lay only with Rohan and Shruti, the fact that it can be verified is only possible with Rohan and Shruti in picture. Say Shruti dies because of an accident, and Rohan goes on to tell the lie that involves them to Bella and Aditya, who believe it to be true. At this very moment, the ‘honesty’ of the statement can still be verified with Rohan in picture, note that the idea that the statement is false, lives with Rohan only, and now when he dies, the fact and the idea of the lie dies with him. Now, to the alive the statement has been always truth. So, what is the Boolean value of it? Or, can it even be assigned. Are Truth and Lies just and idea, to conform to the basic instincts of group survival, a peace treaty to settle the war against all? Just an illusion to prevent us from intervening our conscious experience of being human. Lying besides being the pièce de résistance of human thought and imagination, is nothing but art! But, the art where Sun Tzu and Wilde shake hands and walk past, lacks perfection, you might argue citing politicians, but just as Wilde puts it, “I assure you that they do not. They never rise beyond the level of misrepresentation, and actually condescend to prove, to discuss, to argue. How different from the temper of the true liar, with his frank, fearless statements, his superb irresponsibility, his healthy, natural disdain of proof of any kind! After all, what is a fine lie?” The story that branches out of a simple lie, has the possibility of creating the illusion of an entire universe born out of the lie, the universe with us the creators. Makes you think, what role you play in all the universes born out of lies; lies told by people who you shake hands with, who you embrace. A universe where you play the antagonist, a universe where you’re insignificant, probably even a comic-relief to the story, and in the other you’re the saviour of Troy. The question is, which one of these are you? What is your true identity, what is your being? The question is, can you ever comprehend your purpose, on this place? Too many questions for now, but just imagine the dimension of questions that is born out of a simple lie. Let me make it very clear now, your existence is confirmed by your social relations, your identity that keeps a mark on this universe isn’t what you hold within, isn’t what you tell yourself everyday looking yourself in the mirror. It’s what you, exhibit to the world outside, and it’s not a shock, that it’s nothing but a witch’s alchemy! An amalgam of multiple identities, an amalgam of multiple lies. So, what you exist as, and what you leave behind of yourself, is nothing but lies. And what more, even the person you come to love, the person you come to like, exists only for you, the Rose to your Jake, doesn’t even exist in my universe. You, my friend are in love with a lie. You, my friend live for a lie.
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AuthorSayan K Chaki, President of The Freudian Paradox. He is also a Young Fellowship Recipient of The Cognitive Science Society ArchivesCategories |