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Touch your nose

Faisul Yaseen

Sweet are the memories of childhood. My childhood memories, I'm sure, will not erase away with the passage of time. They will accompany me to my grave.

A few of my sweet childhood memories are linked to my father. As a child I would ask to narrate me tales. Once he told me a story, which I can never forget. This is not a story from the Arabian Nights, neither is it a tale of a King and a Queen. It is also not about fairies or supernatural creatures. But it keeps repeating in my life every single day.

When my father narrated the tale, he started with the ever usual, "Once upon a time," and sitting on his lap, I shouted back, "There was a King."

"No my son, you are wrong," he replied and continued, "Once upon a time there was a piece of wood."

On hearing this I lost interest in the story and said, "Tell me some other story. I will not like to hear a story about a piece of wood."

Sensing that I was not interested in the story, before proceeding further, Dad assured me that it was a good story and I would surely like it. "It was not a very special piece of wood but a common one, like that used is fire places during the winters," Dad went on.

I started getting bored but kept listening to my father. "It was an interesting story," I did not forget the words of my father. Continuing, my father said: "One day, the piece of wood went into the hands of a kind man Geppetto who turned it into a boy Pinocchio."

"A piece of wood turning into a boy. Vow!" I exclaimed bursting into an instant laughter.

"I love such stories. Tell me what happened later," I curiously inquired of my father, "The boy grew up into a man, who probably was the first pathological liar. But everyone knew it. When he lied his nose grew and when he didn't, it shrunk," he said and continued the story.

Now touch your nose and ask yourself, "Do I lie?"

Check your nose again and you will find if you have answered the question correctly.

If you haven't then you are just like me.

Don't we all lie from time to time? We tell big blue-blooded lies and silly little ones. We lie about money, about education, job, love, beliefs, values, attitudes and a number of other things.

Sometimes we lie for getting our work done. Sometimes, to get away form an awkward situation. Sometimes due to the fear of hurting of the truth. Sometimes well! Sometimes just!

I fall in the last category. I lie for no obvious reasons. I deceive to derive a thrill. It thrills me to make a fool out of someone. For me lying has become more of a habit and a second nature.

When my parents catch me lying I receive a lot of brickbats. But I think the need of the hour is to lie. Sometimes, we would excuse the visitors coming to our house by sending a message, "We are out," through our children or parents. But that is what one calls "normal lying". Isn't it?



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