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Once Shakespeare cried out; Life is a drama and we are mere actors.
This line always resonates in my head: actors, actors!

I ask myself, Am I actor too?

Sitting in this cold chair, looking around happy faces: I confront myself. Am I not? When have I been real? I prefer to be more reel than real. I have always pretended to hide myself from gaze, stare, judgments, and what not?

Searching skeletons in my wardrobe!

I always acted like the big cat; not afraid to reveal, at least to some. But when time came, I chickened out. Chicken; cuckoo-doodle-do.

My dad always tried to teach me: stand up for yourself, not for others but for yourself. I try to look back; have I? When my own relatives tried to snatch things away, I pretended I am too young to confront. If only had I said NO, things wouldn’t have been this way. Probably, I would have something else to rant about but not this one. Many relationships made, broken, betrayed over the time but I never had my own say. Had I taken my own stand, would things be this way? Certainly not.
Is this trait going to overrun me this time too?

Truth: stranger, bitter, unpredictable, magnificent. But still the most feared one.

No, I can’t digest bitter and stranger truth. Would I be always waiting for truth to be magnificent?
With truth: comes judgment. And I am afraid of that. Your truth will be more stranger and bitter than my truth. Won’t it be, or am I now trying to judge you?

I thought it’s up to me: why, whom, when and how! Probably a cover!

It’s time to follow my father’s footsteps. I don’t care how ugly it could be but I am not ready to make nice! And also I am not ready to back down. I shall leave things from future for future to deal with.

Stranger, bitter, unpredictable, magnificent: but truth.