You may not know me

You may not know me. Some times even I wonder who I really am. I can write. I can read. I think. I dream. About things that are and things that can be. I wonder about the universe – its endlessness and my ignorance. I could read all the books of this world but I may not know. I could listen to all the masters of the world, dead and alive and I may not know. I could live and die and take birth again, and I may not know. Such is the glory and expanse of creation. And then I realize that there is that power that is beyond me, but in those rare moments of inspiration I could realize that power within me. I do not need to question that power or its source. I just need to embrace it with free will. I have done nothing new. I strive. I look at others and marvel. Little sparks. I do not know if there is a spark in me. I do not know how to show the spark in me. For that matter, I do not know what spark is. I act important every once in a while hoping to be taken seriously, like perhaps now while writing this. But I know within me, I am nowhere. I don’t have to be anywhere. I just have to be me. Why is that so difficult? There is a world that I look up to. There is a world that I want to look up to me. I lose my innocence. My childlike enthusiasm. I lose myself. I act. I have designations that I want and designations to live up to. But in the corner of the corner office lies my little heart which knows the truth but is scared. Can I question? Can I resist? I don’t have any Lions. I don’t have any pencils. But I wish I could save the Lions and resurrect the pencil. I look at planet earth and I look at people. I wonder if it’s worth it. Am I adding any value? What is my role? How do I look at myself? My work? No gutter bar for me. No Cannes. Not even Goa. I don’t have a black t shirt. Nor a moustache. Though I respect the moustache. I respect it all. But I wonder if there is something beyond it all? Do I have to follow? Or do I lead? And lead towards what? Something more responsible, humane and relevant. Can I do it? Can my pen or rather my keyboard do it? I love the questions. I love the uncertainty of it all. I like my doubts. Call me a loser. I like that too. I don’t mind that too. I would be happy to lose my way to a find a new one. There is fun in this. In getting dirty and losing my way. There is fun that is beyond the clunking of cocktail glasses. Exploring the expanse of the endless universe. Setting myself free into an unknown world. New meanings, new understandings. New purpose. Escaping the gravity of the now to discover the freedom of new. It’s exhilarating. Its fun. Like the Eskimos in Greenland. I love it. It’s my struggle everyday. I am no genius. I don’t know who I am. I know there is something within me. I am there in the small city, in the small room at the small desk. I am the boy that looks out of the classroom window. I am the girl who looks out of the bus in the dusty town. I am every where. I exist. I live. But then, you may not know.