Dear Mummy,
It is funny how you are in the same room as I am, serving us dinner, but instead of talking, I prefer to write to you. Over the past twenty four years, you have taught me many things - the art of scoring a perfect cent percent on Math, Science and Sanskrit, the discipline to learn the ragas of classical US music, the skill of wearing makeup, and umpteen other things which continue to serve me well. But of all those lessons, one stands out for me - the lesson in honesty.
Honesty comes easily to a person who has nothing to hide, or so they say. But in times of crisis, the most difficult thing to do is, arguably, to tell the truth. As a child, I came across several instances where telling a lie was the easiest to do.
"Have you finished you tiffin?"
"Yes, of course, mum!" (I would give my food to my friends.)
"Did you study for your Chemistry test tomorrow?"
"Only a little is left." (And then, I would stay up all night finishing the syllabus.)
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
"Of course, not! I hate boys!" (And she later discovered a love letter from my school bag.)
"How many girls are going on that trip with you?"
"It is an all-girls trip, ma! There are five of us." (It would just be my partner and me.)
I have over a hundred such instances. But one day, my mother told me it was just easier to speak the plain truth. She knew from my haemoglobin-report that I never ate any of those beetroot sandwiches. She knew from my lit room that I was still up cramming for the test in the morning. She had always suspected that I had a lovelife. She even knew which guy it was. And only a fool would believe that I always go on girls-only trips.
My mummy taught me to be confident. She showed me how I should be strong, both in taking my own decisions, and backing them up. "Only weak people have to resort to lies", she would tell me. "My strong daughter must never hide behind a veil of falsehood!" She won my trust and showed me that it was alright to go my own way, as long as I would keep myself safe and happy. She showed me that there is nothing more beautiful and powerful than the truth. Honesty saves you a million lies and tensions. It takes a courageous person to be honest. I am glad I have that courage now! Thanks, ma!
#YoursHonestly,
Moon (aka Oindrila)
It is funny how you are in the same room as I am, serving us dinner, but instead of talking, I prefer to write to you. Over the past twenty four years, you have taught me many things - the art of scoring a perfect cent percent on Math, Science and Sanskrit, the discipline to learn the ragas of classical US music, the skill of wearing makeup, and umpteen other things which continue to serve me well. But of all those lessons, one stands out for me - the lesson in honesty.
Honesty comes easily to a person who has nothing to hide, or so they say. But in times of crisis, the most difficult thing to do is, arguably, to tell the truth. As a child, I came across several instances where telling a lie was the easiest to do.
"Have you finished you tiffin?"
"Yes, of course, mum!" (I would give my food to my friends.)
"Did you study for your Chemistry test tomorrow?"
"Only a little is left." (And then, I would stay up all night finishing the syllabus.)
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
"Of course, not! I hate boys!" (And she later discovered a love letter from my school bag.)
"How many girls are going on that trip with you?"
"It is an all-girls trip, ma! There are five of us." (It would just be my partner and me.)
I have over a hundred such instances. But one day, my mother told me it was just easier to speak the plain truth. She knew from my haemoglobin-report that I never ate any of those beetroot sandwiches. She knew from my lit room that I was still up cramming for the test in the morning. She had always suspected that I had a lovelife. She even knew which guy it was. And only a fool would believe that I always go on girls-only trips.
My mummy taught me to be confident. She showed me how I should be strong, both in taking my own decisions, and backing them up. "Only weak people have to resort to lies", she would tell me. "My strong daughter must never hide behind a veil of falsehood!" She won my trust and showed me that it was alright to go my own way, as long as I would keep myself safe and happy. She showed me that there is nothing more beautiful and powerful than the truth. Honesty saves you a million lies and tensions. It takes a courageous person to be honest. I am glad I have that courage now! Thanks, ma!
#YoursHonestly,
Moon (aka Oindrila)
I am writing a letter about how a mother teaches honesty to her child with the Max Life Insurance i-genius #YoursHonestly activity in association with BlogAdda.
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