They say that, the truth sets you free. And there are two kinds of truth, your truth and mine one. I still find it intriguing, which kind of truth sets you free.
Life is subtle, steady and has started walking. I don’t think, it has started moving. But I have stopped standing. A bit of brisk walking a day might rejuvenate the circulation of my life and resurrect it from its slumber.
The other day, when Taral asked me to tell the honest story of my life, it seemed I swallowed a bitter pill. I wondered what ‘honest’ meant to her. I insisted to elaborate the meaning of adjective she used. For another ten minutes she summarized my first statement, there are two kinds of truth; yours and mine. We all try to be victim in our stories. How about for once I narrate a story from the neutral point as if I saw it without being a part of it. There I knew, what she meant. I told her bits of it, but I remember putting my remarks and hashtags in the story line. I might be a good story teller but not an honest one.
The truth is, You live in a lie and a lie can’t be a truth.


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