For the past four months, I’ve been dealing with a guy who promised to finish my furniture. I paid him 14 million soums ($1200). After that, it was always the same answer: “Tomorrow.” Then another tomorrow. And another.
At first, you try to be patient. You assume delays happen. Work takes time. People have problems. But after a while, the pattern becomes obvious. It’s not delay — it’s avoidance.
Yesterday, I went to his neighborhood and talked to people who knew him. That’s when things became clearer. They told me he was a good master, but unreliable. Some even called him a fraud. I also learned he had a family, and his wife cooks and sells food to support them.
Then someone told me something that stuck with me. On one occasion, he told a client his mother died, just to buy time. At that moment, I remembered he had told me something similar — that his relative passed away. Same pattern. Same excuse.
And I started wondering: how do people think like this? Do they really believe they can get away with it? Do they think creating false narratives will solve anything?
But then something uncomfortable happened. I remembered myself.
Years ago, when I lived in London, I was in a similar situation. I lied to my landlords. I told them rent was coming tomorrow. But in reality, I had already spent the money — on poker, shopping, and useless things.
I wasn’t a victim. I was irresponsible.
At that time, I had this strange belief that the world owed me something. That money would somehow appear. That things would fix themselves. I had no plan. No discipline. No effort.
I stopped improving.
No reading.
No working seriously.
No trying.
Just living day to day.
And the worst part? I knew it. I felt miserable. I felt stupid. But instead of fixing it, I kept borrowing. Just to survive another day. Just to postpone reality.
That’s the trap. When you start lying, you don’t solve problems — you delay them. And every delay makes the next lie easier.
Years later, I realized something simple. The best state for a man is when little is enough, and growth becomes non-negotiable. Growth in three directions:
Mentally and spiritually.
Physically.
Financially.
When one of these collapses, the others follow.
I saw this clearly when I changed my environment. I started reading again. I spent time with decent people. People who worked, who improved, who didn’t complain all day. Slowly, my behavior changed. Then my actions changed. Then results followed.
Environment shapes behavior more than motivation.
That’s something I’m trying to teach my kids now. If you change the environment, you change the decisions. And when decisions change, life changes.
Another realization hit me along the way: no one is coming to save you. Not friends. Not family. Not luck. You do your part, and you rely on God. You make effort, and you trust the outcome.
That’s what tawakkul really means — not waiting, but acting and trusting.
Looking back at the furniture guy, I don’t just see a fraud. I see someone stuck in the same cycle I once lived in — avoiding responsibility, buying time with lies, hoping things somehow fix themselves.
But they don’t.
You either face reality early, or reality humiliates you later.
The biggest lesson for me is simple: stay true to yourself. Don’t build your life around other people’s opinions or judgments. When you start lying to protect your image, you slowly destroy your character.
And once character is gone, everything else follows.
Tell the truth. Even when it’s uncomfortable.
Fix problems early. Even when it’s painful.
Grow in all three areas. Even when progress is slow.
Because in the end, honesty with yourself is the only stable foundation you have.
Best,
Nuri
