“To be a scientist is to be naïve. We are so focused on our search for truth, we fail to consider how few actually want us to find it… The truth doesn’t care about our needs or wants… It will lie in wait for all time… and this at last is the gift of Chernobyl: where I once feared the cost of truth, now I only ask—what is the cost of lies?”
— HBO’s Chernobyl
This haunting quote from the series Chernobyl resonates far beyond the realm of science. It speaks to our collective relationship with truth, and how often we are willing to trade it for comfort, convenience, or illusion. Nowhere is this more evident than in how nations, including our own, grapple with the reality of conflict, diplomacy, and national memory.
For decades, successive governments in India have pursued peace with Pakistan. From Track-II diplomacy to Aman ki Asha, our intentions have often been noble. We’ve extended the olive branch time and again, hoping that good faith would be met with good faith. But the results have been heartbreakingly consistent—betrayals, terror attacks, and continued hostility.
And yet, we persist. We continue to believe, or at least pretend to believe, that peace is just one more handshake away. That if we try just a little harder, or speak a little softer, we’ll get through. But what if that belief is not a sign of wisdom, but of willful delusion?
The truth, however uncomfortable, is that our neighbour does not want peace—not the kind we envision, built on mutual respect and coexistence. And every time we lie to ourselves about this reality, we incur a debt. A debt that is not paid in speeches or resolutions, but in the blood of innocent people.
This is not just about foreign policy—it’s about our collective memory and values. We are a people who too easily forget. We forget our villains and our heroes. We whitewash history and celebrate tyrants like Aurangzeb, forgetting the cost they exacted from our ancestors. In doing so, we blur the line between reconciliation and erasure.
The truth is not comfortable. It is not easy. But it is necessary.
We must stop lying to ourselves. We must confront reality as it is, not as we wish it to be. Because truth does not demand belief—it simply is. And the longer we delay facing it, the higher the price we’ll pay.
Let us honor truth—not just in words, but in policy, in remembrance, and in action. Because only then can we truly understand the cost of lies… and perhaps begin to stop paying it.