I was watching a Netflix special where the comedian tells the audience that he doesn’t know anything about his father’s life before he was born, which made me think; how well do I know my parents, in this matter? And the answer was nothing. I am not even sure of the colour they like. I would definitely fail in a family tag game. After watching that show, I decided that I will try to learn more about my parents and get to know them a little more than I do. Following this path, I asked my mom a bunch of questions like, how she lived when she was 12 years old, any memories she has of her personal life, anything she can share with me before I was born. I wanted to know everything about her. I hoped that she would share her life with me. But she didn’t. I know it’s not possible to share an entire life’s stories with someone but it would be fascinating to know those stories. My mother asked me why I was enquiring her about these questions and I told her my reason. She told me that, she wa
My sister once asked me this question, who are you? I couldn’t give her the answer. She gave me time to think about it and as I thought about it, I didn’t know what to answer. Maybe I am a nice (my friends keep telling me that), or selfish ( I want to be but I mostly fail in it) or manipulative (I like the idea of how one can convince others but I am not because I have never done and I don’t know how to do it) or something else. My sister always asks me those kinds of questions that make me uncomfortable because I don’t know the answer to it and I don’t want to because I am doing just fine without it. I know my likes and dislikes, my favourite foods and movies to watch. I am cheerful, goofy, sad and happy, at times. All these things can’t and doesn't define me, then what does? I am not one thing. I know who I am. I am me. I want to quote Taylor swift here: “I will never change but I will never stay the same either.” If I will never remain the same, how can I know who am I