Sometimes I stare in to the mirror and see a stranger staring back at me. “Is that the real me?” I always wonder. Isn’t it strange that we are so trapped in our body that we cannot see what we look like without the help of something inanimate like a mirror? How would I ever know how I look when I smile or when I was genuinely happy or when I had that scorn on my face unless I act it out in front of this mirror? will I ever know what I truly look like to others? Sometimes when I close my eyes and try to recall my face I end up etching a confused caricature.My features from the past and present , the familiar faces from around me all mix up together and I feel lost. How queer is that God let me see everything around me through my eyes, but myself?
How true is this in case of the mind? Can I actually see through what my mind is, what my soul is?Do I actually know who I am or what I am ? Or has this earthly body prevented me from reaching out to the real me? Do i see what I want to see or what I think I want to see? I mean how much do I actually know me?
Here I am in this armor of flesh
I can see the world through my eyes
I can hear what it has to tell
I can feel the pain that it has caused.
I can smile at the little joys it gave me
I know this world better than anything else
I know its tricks and its betrayal
I know whom to trust and whom to love
I know what it wants me to do
The one thing I don’t know is who I am
The one thing that I am not sure is what I want.
I sometimes feel that who i am is not the real me. What I do is not done by me, its just a mechanical process. Some times my hollow words keep on echoing inside my ears and I keep wondering who spoke them out aloud.What am I doing here? Is this a mistake of some kind, was I misplaced or did I stray unknowingly. Is this some kind of amnesia?