“I’m just leaving, Bob,” said my friend over the phone. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

In the background I heard his wife say, “At least put your trousers on before you tell him that.”

He lives forty minutes away.

In Mumbai, we blame the traffic for a great many things, including the time we spend at home looking for our car keys. One evening, when my wife and I were expected at a friend’s place, I rang to say we were caught in traffic. At that very moment, the pressure cooker whistled. “Good heavens, Bob,” said my friend. “They’re cooking on the Western Express Highway now?”

Even when we’re caught, we rarely surrender. We just issue a revised estimate. “I’m leaving” becomes “I’m on my way,” which becomes “I’m practically there.” A friend once told me he was downstairs. I went down to let him in and found nobody there. When I called, he sounded genuinely aggrieved. “I am downstairs, Bob,” he said. “I’ve just got to take the car out.” He was downstairs in his own building. I had to admire the man. He had told the truth and still sent me down a couple of floors.

It’s funny when the only thing at stake is a cup of tea getting cold. But imagine a boy waiting inside his school gate on a rainy afternoon. His father has told him to stay there until he arrives. “I’m outside,” Dad texts, though he’s still two signals away. He’s tired of seeing Where are you? flash on his phone, and he reckons he’ll be there in a minute anyway. The boy sees a silver car like his father’s on the other side of the road. He pulls his schoolbag over his head and runs across. A motorcyclist coming past a stopped bus sees him too late.

All the father had to say was, “I’m still at the signal. Wait inside.”

I remember years ago, when I had a branch of my business in another city and had to travel there, my younger daughter would ask me when I’d be back and I’d tell her in a day’s time. Most often I knew it was a two-day trip but didn’t want to tell her.

But on coming home I was horrified to hear that for the last two days she had been looking through the window waiting for the sound of my car.

“Kumar, are you ready?” a man’s wife called one evening as they were getting dressed for dinner. “Just putting on my shoes,” he called back.

“But your socks are here on the chair,” she said.

Poor Kumar, but all in all, it’s better to tell the truth, than allow pressure cookers and socks to tell others that you lie, because, that’s exactly what we are doing…!

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