I haven’t lied in a while.
I haven’t had to go to family gatherings where I smile through my teeth and stuff graphic images of genocide down the toilet.
I haven’t had to nod, and tell wellwishers my entire life’s plan and had to justify the choices I might have to make.
Kings and queens in their moth-riddled furs of past grandeur, sitting like plastic sausages staring at me, “look at us, we are success stories. This is what your best-case scenario future looks like.”
The worst-case scenarios are not invited to family functions.
I haven’t lied in a while because I have been under house arrest.
I haven’t had to meet my best friends, who I quite recently realised would rather not hang out with a grumpy bipolar teenager, and haven’t had to sit through conversations that I find hilarious but don’t have much to contribute to.
I haven’t had to lie, to teachers, barefacedly, with my eyes all wide and innocent as I tell them I had no idea I was bunking classes, Because school’s finally over. I’m glad I got out before they took down all the mirrors. Which school does not have a single mirror, what the fuck?
I haven’t had to lie to my mum, about the fact that my best friend is sleeping after coming to hangout at my place not because she is sick and malnourished but because she is shit-faced drunk.
I haven’t even lied to myself, about my self-imposed tag of ‘socially awkward’ because I don’t like most people. Yes, I’m a judgemental bitch.
Being in hiatus from the world of the sick and sorry can be strangely refreshing. I do want to claw my face out with my over-grown nails, but that’s irrelevant.
I feel strangely at a loss, for not being able to go out into the world which demands you to cheat, lie and pretend to fit in. Cocooned in the comfort of unrealistic expectations and the joke that is the Indian education system, I’m not sure what I’d rather be doing.
For the record, I do kind of prefer honesty over lying.
Its not my fault likes it the other way round.