Who am I ?

Yeah, it's something that's amused me over quite a long time and one which continues to intrigue me. What is my true identity? Who am I? May be everyone of us would've asked this question to ourselves at sometime or the other. Such penetrating questions become more glaring at times of distress, and though most of us get over the itch to find the answer and usually get on with life, the question remains within, ready to pounce back on us at some other difficult bend of our lives.

This blog is a forum wherein we write about our lives--as much as we want, and in the way we want to. Sometimes we distort reality, add and make up facts, hide many things and present a picture of ourselves to the world out there. We are in a way putting up a front, wearing a mask for all to see, beneath which lies our identity. The same holds good for our everyday life though in a much subtle way.

I have various roles to play in my everyday life. I'm a son, a husband, a friend, an employee, a disciple, a common man, a blogger...etc. I cannot be the same person in all these roles. As a son, i'm quite different than what i am as a disciple to my master. I may not listen to my parents and disagree with their views but with my master, I've absolute faith and obedience. As a writer i'm different to the role i play as an employee. The committment and passion i have for writing is yet to show up in my job. Yet underneath all these roles runs a common thread -- the awareness that i'm the one playing these roles in this drama of life.

On a much deeper level, this question takes on very spiritual and mystical undertones. Last week i had a cup of tea at my desk, switched off the monitor and walked downstairs to the cubicle where mouli was working on a router configuration and talked to him for nearly ten minutes. Just two days later, i had to shut down the monitor and rush towards manipal hospital where his body was lying in the mortuary, waiting for his parents' arrival. All of us stood around his body engrossed in our thoughts, feeling a sense of deep loss. Mouli looked as if he was in a deep sleep and would wake up any moment. Rather his body was lying there, devoid of the life force that kept him moving for so many years. Who was mouli? Was he just a body that had stopped vibrating with life now? Or was he something bigger that had taken on this physical frame for a brief sojourn here? In my spiritual journey, I was acquainted with the idea that we are nothing but particles of consciousness, and that this body, emotions and thoughts were our faculties necessary to lead a life here. But the idea became deeper and intriguing in that instance. How was mouli viewing this situation? What could be his perspective? Is it possible to gain that view-point when we are alive in this body? Is that what the mystics call as enlightenment?

As I continue my life as a common man living with the mundane life, working against deadlines in order to earn a living, experiencing happy moments with loved ones, worrying about the uncertainties of life, shivering in the face of the unknown and dangerous, gaining courage through the encouragement of mentors, dreaming of reaching great heights, hoping, breathing, living and loving, one question still remains unanswered, and will continue to do so until i have a direct experience of the answer.

Who am I?