Who am I? -II

The idea of reducing people to their names, their degrees or accomplishments doesn’t fit in my head. It never did. If somebody asked you who you were, what will your answer be? You can ask me to talk about anything under the sun and over the moon but if someone asked me simple question of who I was? I wouldn’t know and the sinking feeling that perhaps nobody else does either.

If I took off the layers of masks that I wear, will you be able to stand what you see? The fake smile that is permanently fixed on the face like the old grandfather’s clock hanging in the lounge which my parents refuse to get rid of reminds me of how I don’t know what a genuine smile looks like anymore. The words that leave me my mouth and make way to your ears are what you want to hear and not what I want to say. What is that I want to say? I’m not sure, inside the depths of the mind all I see is cold bleak layers of snow after snow. Trying to remove the snow from the corners and alleys causes me to wince in pain as the snow is cemented, the real self buried underneath and barely showing any signs of life anymore.

As I stumble and fall across the crisscross paths looking for answers, calling out my name, I hear nothing back except the void and hollow blackness that surrounds me. A sense of panic crawls up my spine and my hands tremble, I will never stop searching if I didn’t find myself. Madness, sits calmly on a settee watching this in utter delight with eyes never leaving its prey. All it needs is a chance to take over and rein the distorted and cracked building; it’s only a matter of time now.

Maybe the answer lies underneath the skin, I will stop at nothing. I’m willing to peel off the skin to my very bones if that is what will give me the answers I want. I can hear drumming in my ears, someone is calling me frantically, asking me to stop but I shut out the voice. In deep well of the mind, madness claps in glee and jumps up and down in delight, it’s finally happening. I grimace in pain and I see the floor color changing, from as white as the hospital sheets to as red as a carnivore’s party.

I look up confused as the world begins to shake; fuzzy clouds and sharp lights are all around calling me. I hear someone begging, pleading “What!! What are you doing? What is this? What have you done” The voice holds so much pain that my own heart crushes under it. I narrow my eyes to focus at the face and mumble incoherent words as I fall into his arms, home. Even when the pale chapped walls start falling to the floor, I know I’m home.

“Who am I? Do you know who am I?” the words she spoke before she lost consciousness and in that one moment something shattered within him and the glasses of shard cut through his veins. As he picked her up and rushed outside the only thought running through his desperate mind was, “I know who you’re; I’ve always known who you’re. why wouldn’t you ask me

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12 thoughts on “Who am I? -II

  1. If you be ‘who you are’ because you know ‘who you are’ then this world walks all over you. It’s all like how you said if we take off the layers beneath which we hide us, if the world will be able to stand us. I can tell my experience the world is not fully ready to ‘accept’ reality. It likes to have more than one face to an individual. Sad but true.

    Very interesting and true to the core. Thank you for sharing, Barrira.

    -Naima

    Liked by 1 person

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