Or however it’s spelt.
Marking this and the other related-religious-event that is the “Gayathri Japam” (or however that’s spelt too), I got a bunch of calls from people regarding “implementation details”. By which I mean, they called me up and gave me instructions on how I should go about doing things, now that I am alone and all.
Like hello, firstly, I’ve not been at home for over three years, if you haven’t noticed. So if I didn’t or didn’t know how to do things the last year, or the year before last, little is going to change with a few phone calls. This stuff is elaborate, complicated, and you know it.
Anyway, I hate it when I’m-technically-not-lying but really-am-in-spirit. I was talking to my thatha (grand dad) a couple of evenings ago, and he goes, “So you know what to do and when right?”. My response? “Thatha, I got a tape”.
See? I didn’t say yes I will, or yes I do know what to do. I said “I got a tape”. (Note, not even “Sure Thatha, I got a tape”.)
I didn’t even say this was one of those religious-implementation-detail-describing tapes, it could have been an old Oasis tape or something. If they proceed to assume I have this tape, and it holds enough information AND I will actually use it, it’s their assumption right? I mean, I didn’t—technically—lie.
I do this sort of thing so often, it’s not even funny. I never say no to people. I never lie. I rarely say anything to anyone that they aren’t willing to hear. Yet I always end up doing exactly what I want, when I want, and rarely what they assumed I would. (My mom was probably the first to catch on, but even she couldn’t do anything about it. Normal conversation at home, since the time I could speak—”Clean your room H”. “Sure thing ma”. (Note I didn’t say when.))
I always get away on technicalities. I used to think that’s smart. A few-failed-relationships later, I realize women, and people in general, don’t want cute equivocation, they want the truth.