Buy a Kanchipuram silk sari worth ?20,000 and receive two complimentary saris, each worth ?2,000. Buy a single-seater recliner worth ?9,999 and get a cooker worth ?2,222, whistle-free. Buy one and get two free.

These are advertisements that we often read in our dailies and watch with interest on our Android TV. They really inject venom but make us dance, sometimes with our family members. We rush to those particular shops that have advertised so. We come back home carrying things in both our hands and sometimes on our heads too.

What we fail to understand is that these advertisements are traps into which we fall easily and become prey. Have we ever looked askance at such advertisements? If we do so, the advertisers have a readymade answer: "What doubting Thomases are we?" They know fully well that we are gullible people and would sport a broad smile at the instance of getting anything free. It is humorously said in Tamil: "People would drink even phenyl if given free of cost."

It is our avarice that makes these advertisers richer by the crores, especially during festive seasons. We often fail to consider how two saris can be given freely when we buy one. We believe in the advertisers, as we believe in doctors, and do not flirt with the idea that the cost of two saris is violently thrust into the price of one costly sari. Not that we are incapable of thinking so, but our love for anything free does not allow us to do so.

'Gift' is another word for 'free.' That is to say, we get things without having to pay for them. We are benefited by the gift we receive. That is what we think. But the one who showers the gift on us, indirectly thanks us for our stupid generosity.

A couple of houses away from mine, a politician has his office. It is challenging to navigate our way through the road, even on a two-wheeler, let alone a four-wheeler. Sometimes one has to struggle one's way even on foot. Elbowing one's way in a milling crowd is not quite easy.

The politician, whose party affiliation is unknown, gives freebies to the people of that constituency. As a result, a major chunk of the street is flooded with two-wheelers, whose owners stand in long queues that stretch like Hanuman's tail, with greedy faces and sturdy cloth bags in hand. One day, 2 kg of rice; another day, rava and maida, 1 kg each; yet another day, a packet of sweets. But invariably, every day, a packet of sambar rice or curd rice for lunch is given, with a big, broad, and victorious smile of the politician printed on the cover.

Not only the poor, who cannot afford three meals a day, but also the rich, who want to save something more in their coffers, make use of the things given free of cost. And whenever I look at the milling crowd, lovers of freebies with their cloth bowls, I pity them for turning into beggars.

Occasionally, the politician turns up to give darshan to the queuers. The needy look at him with great reverence. Elections are fast approaching, you know! So, freebies become baits and politicians are perfect anglers. That reminds me of the words from the Bible: "freely ye have received, freely give" (Matthew 10:8).

A story I read long ago crosses my mind. A thief decided to rob a house in broad daylight. He opened the latch of the iron gate as if the house were his and crossed the path that led to the main door. To his great surprise, he saw a sleeping dog unleashed. At first, he called a halt to his steps out of sheer fear. But on second thoughts, he said to himself: "Let sleeping dogs sleep." As he resumed his steps, the dog woke up. It cocked up its ears and stood up. But it didn't bark.

So, the thief moved towards the locked door and fumbled for the right sort of key in his trouser pocket. The keys jangled in his pocket. The dog didn't bark. He pulled the supposedly right key. The sound of the key turning in the lock didn't make the dog bark. The canine looked at the thief as if he were the owner of the house. The thief pushed open the door. Before he could step into the house, he thought deeply about the easy to get along with dog. The wise saying, "Barking dogs don't bite," crossed his mind. Commutatively, he thought, "Biting dogs don't bark." Hence, he asked himself, "Is the dog waiting for me to set foot into the house so that he could tear me to pieces? Quite possible. Better be on the safer side." He pulled out a biscuit from his shirt pocket and threw it at the dog. Immediately, the dog began to bark loudly, baring all its ferocious teeth.

The thief was taken aback. He began to shiver in his shoes. Mustering up enough courage, he told the dog, "Hey! Hey! Look here ... When I broke open the gate you did not bark. The jingling sound of the keys and then the unlocking of the house ... you didn't bark. I opened the door of the house ... you did not bark. But when I offered you a biscuit wholeheartedly you started barking. Why?"

"I mistook you for a plumber or an electrician. I thought you have come to the house to do your duty. And so, I didn't bark. But when you offered me a biscuit, I was sure that something was wrong," answered the dog and did its duty.