The man in the mirror

At some point of our lives or other, each one of has lied. Be it a lie as innocent as denying the responsibility of have broken a plate or be it as grave us deceiving a man into giving you some money. Nevertheless, they are all lies, and we all are liars. Each one of us knows what it is to lie to someone else. The nervousness involved, the risk, the relief when it is over. But what does it feel like to lie to oneself? How does it feel to make oneself believe something false?

Is it something that we don't know, or is it something that we all know? Do we know ourselves? Do you think you are who you think you are? Is the man in the mirror the same as the one on this side? Am I the same person on the inside as I appear to the outside world or are there secrets that should always remain within lest the world for me would be no more the way I know it now? And even worse, do I know those secrets myself?

Some of my readers have asked me whether I feel exposed when I know that people can read my thoughts on this blog. But the real question is, "Are these really my thoughts or is it just an attempt to paint a picture of myself as I would like to be perceived?". Or to rephrase it, "Don't I know that people read it? So won't I make sure that you read what I want you to?". These are the questions that should trouble the readers. As for me, the more disturbing question is "Is it me?" or to be more frank, "Do I know myself?"

2 years ago, for someone in my life, I had written an essay describing myself; describing myself as I saw myself. But as days, weeks, months passed; I began to realize the differences in the 'perceived' me and the 'real' me. Since then, I know that I've lost track of where the lies end and the truth begins. I am still looking for the answer and although I'd be glad to be not the only one lost, I wish that none of you end up with me. The absence of the knowledge about the real self takes away the confidence and fills one with doubt; it scares one to be close to someone for the fear of hurting him/her or oneself; one can no more expect others to understand him because their perception is based on his exterior; one is ever doubtful about his own goals and ambitions which at some stage were as clear as the October sky.

I'd conclude with the question, "Is the one with the above doubts the same as the one writing this post?"

Dreams, Day-dreams and Reality

Since childhood, I've had a variety of goals to be achieved. Some forgotten, some modified, some discarded for the better....but eventually if I were to create a pile of what I all I've wanted to do or aspired to be, it would be as tall as the Eiffel Tower.

And even today, I dream...dream a lot about what will become of me sometime in future. The future seems bright, silent, peaceful....My dreams seem vague to some. Some feel that it is a symptom of the lost confidence in me. Some feel that its way below my potential;but for me,it is still my dream. In the course of time, the dream might undergo some amendments, but I'll always have a dream.

Surprisingly, no where in future do I aspire to be a millionaire, but all I expect is professional peace. Is that too much to ask? Is it a childish dream? Is it denying the reality? Will it always remain a dream?

Many of my friends have chosen to change their dreams, and by change I mean completely change. They have come up with an entirely new perspective of their future. They call it maturity.

Is it? Does maturity come with sacrifices? Is the price of maturity to lose the faith in dreams? Some defend it with vague excuses; excuses that aren't even enough to silent their minds. Some just finally decide to give up their fight against the so called "FATE/LUCK/DESTINY".

Whatever it maybe, I hope I can stick on to my dreams and thoughts till the end of life and achieve most of them. I wish the same for my friends, even if it comes at the heavy price of being called "immature"....

NOTE: Inspired by a friend's blog...