What am I doing?

A Stock-Take of the Morning

Sitting on a vehicle that transports the masses,
knowing not what awaits the future,
but yet expecting the same for the rest of the day,
thoughts of a warning nature cast over,
and I ask myself,
What am I doing here?

They sit and organize themselves,
the suits, the skirts, the bags, the shoes,
we all sit and drown ourselves in a sea of sorrow,
but we never taste the same drops,
cos we know not each other or past or present or future,
and our common destiny for death is not shared,
neither is our passion for our own life,
to be consumed by the trip that today brings us,
the question remains in my mind,
does anybody know what they are doing?

The whiff of a perfume like poison,
the shoes stamper like chatter,
I sit above and watch as they clamer for the ride,
I feel their pain and sense their irritance,
too many people rushing to the same destination,
the sun in their eyes can't lift a black face,
and the noise doesn't smoothen their worries,
we all are in for the same ride,
but yet I say to myself,
am I really doing anything different from you?

Wheels are churning,
the air-con blasts its chilly air onto my face,
I hear the voice of the newscaster,
they hear it too and allow her voice to occupy our silence,
but somehow my ears pick up a different tune,
the seduction of her voice frightens me,
her calm demeanor in relaying the news of horror,
her common sense manner of speaking about senselessness,
should I laugh or cry and be judged a lunatic,
insanity, madness, despair, sadness, melancholy,
how can these be my partners,
on my daily journey every morning,
when all I am simply asking is,
what are you doing to me?

Time is ticking,
we all must meet our destination lest we be punished,
but how can someone else be worthy enough,
have we lose every understanding of ourselves,
that we allow an ordinary person or a fictional entity,
to tell us how we should spend our time,
the news, the man and the radio can not speak to us,
our consciousness doesn't run independently anymore,
our emotions continue to be played to their dictations,
have I allowed my own interior self to be torn and played,
as I listen to the voice of seduction,
as I sit on the seat of a mechanical death machine,
as I see the eyes of boredom and restlessness,
as I smell the air of sterility and dryness,
my heart only sinks deeper into the void,
for there is now only one question,
and answers appear so distanced and out-of-reach,
there is only one person asking,
what am I doing?

Lies, Liar, Lying, Big Lie, Small Lie, White Lie, Lousy Liar....

"Don't you lie to me!", says the mum to the child. "You are such a bad liar", says the lover to the spouse. "It'just a small white lie," protests the colleague to his/her co-worker. And Jennifer Lopez sings, "Don't you lie to me...."

It's an interesting world out there, particularly with the prevalence and magnitude of lies out there. Friends continually feel the stings of betrayal when they are lied to; lovers break up and fight because one of them just had to lie; colleagues shoot daggers at each other across the table, thanks to their liberal use of back-stabbing; bosses need to be licked in glory and fame which requires the subordinates' skills of a quick (and lying) tongue; corporations overblow the status and value of their products and call it "marketing"; yes, it's an interesting world out there but it almost makes it impossible to live, when every corner and every entity you meet seem capable of lying to you. It doesn't matter if you trust the person with his/her charming and benovalent personality, with the framed up qualifications which glitter and shine to back up his/her authenticity; you just know this person, no matter how squeaky clean, is capable of lying if they have to save themselves.

What is the essence of lying? Principally, it is an act of deception. A lie, even without referring to a dictionary, involves an act of deceiving, swindling and cheating someone. It is best defined by what it is (not): it's not truth. A lie is to twist, defraud, make up, distort, change the nature of what was once a truthful statement or event (but in most cases, feelings) and then to present that as it was truth. And obviously, there is one missing element in this equation: the assumption always is that lies are spoken with intent.

In very few societies, the act of lying could be conceived as a virtue. And in literally most moral, religious and ethical systems, honesty is forever extolled as a virtue. Better to be a honest man/woman than to be a lying rat. Further, the moral weight on this virtuous trait is extremely expensive and costly, for you will usually find that a heavy penalty must be paid for carrying out a lie. If it is in a marriage, divorce comes next. If it is between friends, typically the cracks truly never get fixed. If it is told in the court, it is amountable to spending time in jail. Yet despite these risks and the heavy punishment that trails behind them, we are confronted with a deep puzzling picture: Why do we still continue to lie?

Without asking you to spend a moment of your life in reflection, you may nevertheless agree that there may have been a few instances where you did lie. And even if I had to hazard a guess, it would most likely be during times of childhood, where perhaps you told a little lie to your parents so that you can get that new toy. You may also think of the times as a teenager, you lied to your parents about studying with friends when you were actually satisfying your raging hormones with kissing your teenage sweetheart. In looking back on these adventurous moments, you would probably brush them off as a sign of immaturity and that you have since grown up to be a person of stronger character and virtue.

Funny then it must seem if you are to be excused for these little acts of mishap, then why should we be so outrageously uptight and parochial to accuse with eternal condemnation that "Person A is a liar! Don't trust him/her!" or "S/he lied to me and I can't forgive him!"? If that's the case, your family members and those well-acquainted with you shouldn't be placing any faith in you being the truth-teller of the century. Are lies to be taken so literally that one is not only sentenced to a life of solitude but also judged to be a person of sinister and malevolent character?

Undoubtly, most people do lie with an explicit intent. Perhaps the intention to enjoy an activity without guilt or obstruction (like when your mother told you to stop seeing that boy); or perhaps to protect your image of yourself (Be happy driving that BMW and wearing that Gucci bag but come back to a poor-ridden family); perhaps to cover up your mistakes so that you can correct them (oh my, you better tell your dad that you have fixed the car's tyres when now you have to repair both the tyres and bumper) but you know what people say, don't you? That it doesn't matter why you lied, it dosn't matter if you did it to protect me, or to make things up, the fact of the matter is that you LIED.

Yet, are all sorts of lies so easily disapproved of? If they are, then why are still a majority of the lies out there being accepted? Just like when our "favourite" President of all time declares frivolous and ridiculous reasons and intents for invading another country, or when the politician continues to propagade better prosperity and wealth but you find your wallet getting emptier by the years, or perhaps when your boss presents a clean picture of the company's practice when you have seen and experienced all the dirt floating around the place. In fact, we continue to accept being lied to from our family members (who criticises you to your trustworthy siblings), friends (who don't really think you have the best taste in clothes), colleagues (who is desperate to ask for your help but thinks you are a doofus) and many others, all of which we know, if "real" honesty were to surface, the ugliness that has been lurking in the shadows are bound to appear. Oh yes, it doesn't become any more pleasant, does it, if someone is allowed to be brutally honest with you? It seems that only your idealistic thoughts and feelings will be crushed by the cold hard stamp of "reality bites".

This then brings the whole irritating problem into one full circle, doesn't it? To lie is regarded as a repulsive act, and something (that I rightfully) think should be condemned; but yet, to be honest and to be truthful also means facing the ugly realities of human relationships and nature, and also to realise that much of your cherished assumptions and thoughts are just wrong.

In writing this post, I am to recall the many instances where I have seen and experienced lies. Friends of mine have been lied, they have also lied; I see lies on a daily basis in my job; and there are also lies continually being perpetrated on the public. My own family members have lied to me, and of course I can't claim to be any more of a saint, I have lied in some occasions. But somehow, I have also found that the policy of being honest, despite suffering considerable consequences, a much enriching experience. The state of the world now is that there are too many people reaching harsh and overbearing conclusions based on lies, and not enough people recognising that honesty, for all its faults and ugliness, should continue to be promoted. Rather, lies continue to be accepted because deep down, as human beings, we have accepted that there are legitimate reasons to give a lie and retain them. What has become lost in the process, is that the negative responses from being truthful and honest should not be shunned away from; but rather to be embraced as a painful lesson in humility and acceptance.

Lying with a conscience. That's what we have always been doing. But it is far braver to be honest with a conscience and a heart.