My name is Suhani, a fitting name I believe.
I know who my parents are, I live with them.
I know who my siblings are, I love them and they love me.
I know which roots I come from – faith and belief.
I know who my friends are, they have stood the test of time and effort.
I know that my parents hate my guts. They think I am fixated and stubborn. They think I am ruining my life. They want me to follow their footsteps; get married, settle down, have kids and finish my life.
I know my siblings love me without judgements. They might not agree with me and my decisions but they let go. They are there for me.
I know what my friends think of me. They think I am bold and can face challenges easily. They think I am clear headed and opinionated. They think I have too much ambition. They think I am logical, pragmatic and practical in my approach and decisions. So, they think I don’t understand what they are and the pain that they go through.
I believe I understand how strangers look at me and perceive me as someone who is independent with a ‘I give a damn’ attitude. They don’t like me but they are intrigued as to who am I? They like the confidence in my walk but it also freaks them out.
To sum it up, I know who am I in the traditional sense because I know what people think I am.
But do I know who am I? NO.
No, I do not know who am I because what my parents see me as is only because I want them to let me make my own decisions. I don’t defy them because that is who I am. I defy them because if I don’t I will have to live their life which is definitely not me.
No, I do not know who I am because what my friends think to be my strength is actually a wall. Yes, I use my brains more than my emotional side but that is because I am afraid to loose it all to emotion and be pathetic like so many others. In reality I am scared, very scared to be ‘anybody’. I don’t want to be an ‘anybody’.
No, I do not know who I am because the strangers who see my independence do not see how I long for someone to take care of me. When they see my confidence, they miss the flaw it is hiding.
Then who am I?
I am someone who wanted to be journalist, but that ship has long sailed.
I am someone who could have been a lawyer, but I did not have enough confidence in myself to pursue it. I still don’t.
I am someone who wants to be a writer. I used to write more often. I used to write better than I do now. I am struggling with my writing for a long time now. It is still a long journey and a distant dream which I may or may not realise.
I am someone with insecurity issues. I fear losing what I have and prefer death over it at times.
I am someone whom death doesn’t scare. I struggle with my issues and come back rising.
I am someone who needs to be somebody because being ‘anybody’ is a huge identity crisis.
I am someone who can not live with an identity crisis.
I am someone who is afraid to pour her heart out to anyone. Writing about it helps.
I am someone who is trying to open up with the help of writing.
I am someone whose life has been more or less an open book but who herself has been more of a closed book, sealed from cover to cover.
I am someone who is gathering courage with every passing day to force open that book page by page.
I am someone trying to become more than who I currently am.