Let me confess.
My belief is Firm
and I know
this is Truth.
I believe in it.
When I say
I believe in it
I don’t know
whether ‘I’ that believes
or ‘I’ that knows
that I believe
are same
or on same side of A divide
or in conflict with each other.
When I say ‘I know’
I don’t know
Which part of me
I am referring to.
But still
I assert, I know and
I know
this is truth.
This truth is my ‘I’
a capital ‘I’,
I don’t believe in small humble ‘i’.
This might smack of narcissism,
this might be construed as
self aggrandizement,
this might be interpreted as
my being selfish
or I may run the risk
of being labeled egocentric but
I will always believe in my ‘I’.
My this ‘I’ is not alone.
This is just a mask of or representation of
countless ‘I’s that I carry within me.
These ‘I’s keep dying in me,
birthing in me,
solving my riddles,
presenting me with conundrums.
They even remain entangled with each other.
These countless ‘I’s
are like sky,
a million sparks, I see through them.
If any of these ‘I’s, like fog,
blinds me, sometimes
another ‘I’, comes forward
like a straight path, without any bends
and shows me the direction.
If they hold fast in snare at times
then sometimes they set themselves
in an anodyne legible order.
If they behave childish
then before one realizes
they get coloured in the guise
of a seer.
If sometimes they are like a shrine
being visited by sacred thoughts,
another moment they are like tavern
intoxicating my nerves.
Like chameleons, they change colour,
but they never desert me.
I am nothing without
These ‘I’s.
I love my ‘I’s.
These ‘I’s make me.
Without even knowing
whose (‘I’) ’s voice this is,
which ‘I’s are responsible
for what is good in me,
which ‘I’s are accountable
for what is bad in me,
I will keep saying
that I believe in ‘I’.
Pramod Khilery