Tuesday, April 25, 2006

I always wondered why must everyone ask themselves-who am I. It seemed to lead to time sensitive answers to satisfy oneself -whatever ones desires be. But its only when it becomes this need, a purpose that cannot be put aside for another day, does one clearly see that its not a search for answers but a willingness to understand.

In confusion there’s this tendency to sort out the “I”, in despair and sheer loneliness. In this state of being- of uneasiness in ones skin one asks again, who am I, without any sort of care, seriousness or urgency-only desperation. And all that we’ve been told we are, the things we are loved for, the things we’ve been told make us unbearable, the ones that make us different ,precious, special and all that, is what we’ve been clinging on to.

That’s our relationship with each other - the expectations, the words, the expressions and the reactions. Sometimes the silence-at times awkward, or peevish, unsure or even easy. We look for ourselves in this relation-how we fit in or don’t .That’s how we formulate our definitions of ourselves. Sometimes the me is just a reaction to a bad relation. Or a semblance of a good one. A product of a thousand interactions which are a product of a million others.

Complicated-that’s what one becomes without an idea of the self. In keeping with our roles then we become liars. Even more complicated.

2 Comments:

At 4:46 AM, Blogger Girish said...

Me, is God...nice read

 
At 12:03 PM, Blogger Saurabh said...

What does the author want the reader to interpret when she says 'time sensitive answers'?

does she mean answers in a temporal context that we all seek and foolishly satisfy ourselves with?

Please elucidate.

Rest of the matter is extremely lucid though esoteric(which is in the nature of an accusation than a fair assessment, fate of K's friends).

 

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