Self-Identity
Who am I? Who am I? For endless time I have asked— digging through veils of doubt, yet finding only absence. History dissolved behind the mask of manhood; I forgot that eternity outlives my pride. I loved myself too much, like Narcissus forever gazing into a glass of water, believing the reflection a destiny. In that blind trust I marched ahead— past the impossible, draped in the robes of greatness, from exile to homeland, from altar to chariot, from the ordained path to the scholar’s pedestal. Yes, I told myself, I am the chosen one, nature’s favored son, an Alexander, a Napoleon. For years I lived with the weight of this arrogance, fighting the fight of living, walking far, through victories, through failures, through deserts of desire. I never truly gained— only fed the hunger of being the greatest. Then, in the thick soil of struggle, life’s hardness pressed. Before the mirror, I remembered my name. And the day came: a race of ...