Half Truth Half Lies

By Krishan Sood

Half Truth Half Lies, is story telling in an enthralling way where facts and fiction merge effortlessly to create drama, suspense and mystery. The spooky tales are short ghost stories with an element of life after death. “Admission Impossible” is a humorous children’s play inspired by the hilarious episodes of British TV serial Yes Minister. Always in awe of its subtle nature, “British Humour” and “Mirth” highlight the funny side of life.
“King Arthur and the Witch” is a story with a profound question that only a witch could answer while “My Brand” and “Wedding Trousseau” dwell on the vagaries of fashion and the love of a father for his soon to be wedded daughter.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zorba Books
• Release date: Dec 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9789393029294

Book preview

1

My Brand

Ihad my first encounter with Jimmy in the opulent DLF Emporio Mall and asked Sonam why he was always chewing something or the other. Shoo…….don’t be mean…….meet Mr. Jimmy Choo the shoe maker from East London! I was about to offer Mr. Choo a chewing gum, when I met a clothier whose name sounded like Apple Crumble & Fudge, a well dressed gentleman of high repute and impeccable taste, distinguished by an embroidered moose on his shirt pocket. My Guess was that these influential guests were not merely pushovers but were men of substance with incredible credentials. One of them was a man of humble moorings who had clearly begun his life as a cart puller and introduced himself as Mr. Cartier. Another gentleman, Ralph Lauren who had some equestrian leanings, was usually seen leaning down from his horse chasing a small ball with a stick at the Polo grounds. It was only a matter of time before Sonam formally introduced me to all the other high profile foreign guests -- Tom Ford, Burberry, Armani, Prada, Gucci, Chanel, Roberto Cavalli, Dolce & Gabbana, Versace, Bebe, Dior, Zara, and the trendy Fendi.

I also acquainted myself with an Englishman with a French accent whose name I cannot easily forget. What the Fcuk? As I remember he was a very courteous, decent and friendly chap who invited me for a drink at, The Ferret and Trouser Leg and educated me on the nuances of building a visual image of his successful brand. He then handed me an impressive visiting card, French Connection UK printed in hardly legible small print while its highly suggestive acronym - fcuk was prominently displayed in the top right hand corner. As I shook hands with him and we parted company, he added that if I ever needed any further information regarding him or his company, I should visit their website www.fcukinkybugger.com and get intricate details on their whole range of fcuking products. Not being kinky enough or an ardent fan of fcuk I thought it would be prudent to do so only if the need arose.

My immediate concern was to find Sonam who was last seen trying on some stylish Italian heels skillfully crafted by Salvatore Ferragamo. From the shoes section she had swiftly moved on to look at some pricey handbags, Isn’t this bag simply divine? she asked the moment she saw me. Before I had time to reply or find any divinity in the bag she picked up another, this time a limited edition Safari Calfskin brown Ferragamo and flung it over her shoulder. Just look at the styling and feel the soft leather, isn’t this simply awesome? It certainly was awesome. I looked at the bag in awe and for some money in my wallet. A quick mental calculation of a ten percent discount on the price tag still made it much above the credit limit on my Citigold visa. Disappointed by my lack of resource, she was quick to point out that everyone in our family had as many luxury bags as they could possibly fit into their wardrobes. Didn’t you see what Anita Chachi and Chinky Tai were carrying? I agreed that they were the trend setters in our family and that the so called Sud’s were my Joneses. I just couldn’t keep up with them.

Not one to give up on me so easily, Sonam strolled into the quaint little Judith Leiber store to look at some of the finest purses in the world. It wasn’t long before she found just what she wanted--A snazzy looking Judith Leiber crystal chain purse which she pointed out was the ultimate timeless clutch. Isn’t this just out of the world, such an amazing never before seen clutch? she gleefully exclaimed. I agreed that it was an exquisite and timeless masterpiece and very unlike me who until recently, could only think of a clutch as a device used in a car to change gear. Perhaps the time had come for me too, to change my gear and become a little more fashion conscious.

Certainly, a complete and sudden makeover would make me unrecognizable. I asked Sonam how she would know it was me, if I wore an Armani T- shirt, Hugo Boss Bermuda shorts, Gucci loafers, Tom Ford sunshades and carried a Hermes Birkin bag to which she lovingly replied, From your empty wallet and generous nature.

I began to wonder if Sonam’s love for designer wear was genetic, because if it was then those genes must have come either from her mother or from the prosperous Sud’s as I certainly didn’t possess any designer genes. My apparel was all run-of-the-mill which was devoid of any labels and logos. Besides, my Bata shoes and complimentary Singapore Airlines socks, certainly did not qualify as designer wear. In fact, most designers would be wary of my designs and by now have become bankrupt had everyone of their customers been as unfashionable as me.

The best things in life are free. The second best are very expensive.

– Coco Chanel

2

Wedding Trousseau

Much before the sound of wedding bells many bills for apparel landed at our home and my wife Sonia explained to me that they were for Sonam’s trousseau. What’s a trousseau? I asked innocently.

Like Robinson Crusoe, I was totally at sea having no recollection of what it takes to make up a trousseau. Sonam had in the meantime put London, Paris, Singapore, New York and Los Angeles on red alert as she placed orders for the most exclusive garments and other assorted articles that would make up her trousseau…….a trousseau befitting a princess. Pa, don’t you know what a trousseau is? inquired Sonam, sounding a little alarmed. As a matter of fact I don’t, but what I do know is that you are my only true So! I lovingly replied.

As the father of the bride how can you not know what a trousseau is especially when you have to pay for all those things I ordered. You know it is not every day that I ask you for something exclusive and expensive. After all, I am going to get married only once in my lifetime, argued Sonam. Being unfamiliar with the term, I decided to look up the Oxford dictionary and found that in the mid 19th century a trousseau was merely a bundle of clothes, linen and other belongings collected by a bride for her wedding and not insignificantly, the double ‘s’ in the word stood for the stamp of authority in Sonam’s signature.

I guess going by what Sonam’s idea of a trousseau was, the bundle must have swelled over the years and included a lot many more things that filled up the whole house while emptying out my bank balance. Pa, please think of a trousseau as a treasure trove in which all the money you put in disappears and magically becomes designer wear! And magically my money did disappear and our home started to swell up with an assortment of fashion garments, linen and other accessories all meant to add colour to the start of a new romantic life.

The excitement of shopping began with wedding exhibitions, bridal fairs, couture carnivals and fashion weeks several months before the wedding date. Don’t you know I am going to have my own walk-in wardrobe soon? I am going to need a lot more clothes after my wedding and really need to look trendy and chic, Sonam announced. She made it sound as if she had never worn anything fashionable and trendy in all those years preceding her wedding.

Of course, now came the most intricate and delicate part of her trousseau, the wedding ‘lehenga’ itself and it came with almost unlimited choices. I asked Sonam what kind of lehenga she had in mind and she promptly replied that she hadn’t decided as yet. She was having so much fun trying on and modelling different clothes every day that it seemed unfair to ask her what she was looking for. She liked almost everything and being svelte and slim almost everything looked good on her. She tried on a Pari lehenga, an Anarkali lehenga and finally a Katrina lehenga and still couldn’t decide which one to buy for her wedding. She was perhaps looking for something exquisite and out of this world which would give her a classy and modern look while still being traditional. All these lehengas were designed to enhance the charm of a bride and Chandni Chowk did have some of the most ravishing, astonishing, breathtaking, and bewitching collection of lehengas which were absolutely stunning and mesmerizing. Would you like me to show you a mermaid lehenga in a fish cut? asked a sales girl. And I was at sea again, trying to fathom how Sonam would look as a pretty mermaid about to be married.

Alu papri chat and tikki quickly arrived for all of us followed by coffee, as the welcoming owner realized the true potential of having such a valuable customer. Sonam’s modelling and draping of lehengas had inspired many other customers to quickly make up their minds and keep the shop’s till constantly ringing. I had a sneaking suspicion that the owner was fully aware of this and was only too glad to let her spend as much time in his shop as possible. Sonam by now had received a heap of compliments and was thoroughly enjoying herself. She had befriended the owner’s daughter who was about her age and proceeded to happily chat with her for the rest of the afternoon in a timeless synergy of colourful bridal wear in the midst of saris, lehengas, ghagra cholis and shararas.

The unlimited shopping extravaganza had truly begun. While the hunt for the perfect wedding lehenga was an unending one, many georgettes, chiffons, velvets, brocades, and crepes crept into our home surreptitiously. Gota Patti embroidery on a dupatta, a sari with a pallu in antique zardozi, a traditional salwar kameez embellished with crystals and gemstones along with a sharara with beads, sequins and mirror work which reflected Sonam in every hue and silhouette, all became part of her trousseau. Jewellery, makeup, lingerie and other accessories made up the rest of her bundle which by now was bursting at its seams and convinced me that it would surely see her through her honeymoon and early part of her romantic marital life.

So true to her name she is my loving true So!

3

Mirth

"Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone;

For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,

But has trouble enough of its own"

– Solitude by E. W. Wilcox

It was a cold and frosty wintry morning in Delhi. I was shivering and my hands were quivering. My thoughts were running faster than my single finger tap on my lap top. I knew I had to take both my hands out of the quilt to type at least at the speed of my thoughts, lest they get lost forever in my head.

Actually, the trouble was that I had boasted to the whole wide world that I was capable of writing and publishing a book for which I had set myself a deadline...... and now time was running out. My mind was racing towards a storyline and for it to be interesting it had to have a twist.......be it in a fox’s tail or in a fairy tale. I made up some funny stories but before I could put pen to paper they faded away like an apparition and for the ones that I did remember, I had forgotten where the twist was. It was akin to remembering the whole joke to perfection and forgetting the punch line.

I toyed with the idea of writing some funny ghost stories (believe me some ghosts can be funny) but before I could make them humorous they became scary, so I had to give it up. I tried my hand at fiction but half way through, I got confused with my characters and had trouble with my diction. Still, my addiction to writing prose grows with each passing day and who knows some day this obsession maybe my only treasured possession! (Did you notice the change in tense?)

It is no pretence that in my writings I often get mixed up with the tenses and I effortlessly drift from past to present and to the future or vice versa. The problem with tenses is that they create a great deal of tension. The tenses demand a lot of time, attention and tender loving care. Unfortunately, my span of attention is so limited that it is easy for me to be overwhelmed by them.

Grammar is another stumbling block for me. It is full of pebbles, stones and boulders to slip and fall. It is the whole system and structure of language, its syntax and morphology (morphine mixed with a metaphor to alleviate pain) consisting of verbs, adverbs, adjectives, nouns, prepositions and conjunctions which are difficult to master. It is also a set of clauses and