His grey suit,
An obsession and compulsion
Of family and heirloom;
But, not his true self.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
His grey suit,
An obsession and compulsion
Of family and heirloom;
But, not his true self.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
“Write about yourself in 250 words.” A task I gave myself a couple of months ago. “Ah! This is going to be really interesting”. I exclaimed. And I sat down to write in my diary.
A few minute of “I”, “me”, “I ‘m” and I found myself completely lost for words; the words that came by easily and took the form I gave my writing. The humour was at bay, seriousness failed to stop by, and emotions withheld from display.
It was very easy to say “I am so and so” and “I did this and that” and crack a joke at your own cost. But when deciding to write about “yourself”, I began to ponder. “Who am I?” “Am I what my achievements are?” or “Am I what people told me, who they think I am” or “Am I the person who speaks to myself when in solitude?”
I could not arrive at an answer. With every situation I was finding a different “I”. While at work the search was for an academic “I”, at home “I became truly myself”, and in a group it was I who selected an “I” that the situation demanded.
I could not believe that even when it came to writing about myself, the true self seemed apprehensive about being a story teller. It surprised me. Making a bio-data was easy but “yourself” had significance beyond the perceived.
I scribbled a few sentences as if they were my first writing assignment in life. Expressed in simple and lucid language, the complications of “I” and the frills of exaggeration gained with time were erased effortlessly.Those few sentences were indeed “who I am”.
My heart goes out to all those who pen down their true self, honestly and sincerely.
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