Who Am I?

By Vrinda Tiwari, BBA, Batch of 2024, NMIMS Kirit P. Mehta School of Law, Mumbai.

Who are you? HE ASKS

Who am I?

I’m a bit hard to describe, really hard, I’ve got this little thing, nothing like a big thing, well it’s umm biggeshh, but it’s not huge, well, it’s not tiny either, it’s, it’s just a thing, but how to tell you about it, Oh, you want to know who I am, well …here’s who I am!

I am someone who wakes up to a bright sunny Monday morning. Sitting on the fusty, old, maple wood bench of my backyard, I’m listening to the rustling of the dark green mango leaves, feeling the bright sun kissing my face, my eyes shining bright, I’ve beautiful eyes by the way, skimming through Dan Brown’s novel, enjoying my hazelnut coffee, gulping down the chocolate chip pancakes I just made, everything’s perfect you see, I can see some golden Orioles chirping and resting in the mango groves, some squirrels chattering and purring at a distance, moving back and forth into the leaf nests and deep dark cavities of the mango tree…. beautiful Monday morning feels, people. Nothing could be better than this.

I’m enjoying nature’s lullaby.

(cell phone rings)

Suddenly a notification on my phone breaks the peaceful silence and I realise it’s 9:30 in the morning and I’m late for work (not again)

I grab my laptop and specs from the table, work like crazy, it’s a big day, I have a presentation scheduled at 11, it’s 10:40, I’m all psyched, Kundan gets me my go to coffee order, my boss, she’s proud of me because i ace my presentation, the clients are impressed, everyone’s congratulating me, there are people celebrating my victory in the background but, but here’s where the problem starts…..

A deafening silence follows. Something gloomy, something dark just kicks in, the wholesome smile on my face suddenly vanishes, this eccentric drive gradually overpowers my mind, my heart feels heavy, as if someone’s put a 20 kg weight on my chest, I can’t breathe, my fingers go numb, I grab my bag and head straight towards home, voices of people are faintly audible now, they’re calling me back…..

(wait, don’t go, goooooo, no don’t go, I

said just leave, oh boy, inner voice rumbling)

And in no time, I’m at home. I’m scrolling through the notifications (cell phone chimes)

Texts received from colleagues: “congratulations, why did you leave suddenly, hey, are you okay, amazing presentation dude”.

I realise that the glistening in my eyes has vanished, as if someone’s doused the fire they carry, a fire to thrive, to strive, to succeed, to learn, to grow.

I decide to sleep it off, but I can’t seem to do that either. Maybe because I’m starving, yes, yes, that is it, I’m just starving, it’s nothing big, (inner voice says) I order my favorite Italian red sauce pasta,

“Your order will be delivered in 30 minutes” (The text on the cellphone)

30 minutes, well I can wait for 30 minutes. “Just listen to some jazz honey and you’ll be fine” (inner voice says again), damn, the music isn’t helping either, it’s coming again, the dark pitch, it’s coming again,

Doorbell rings

“Ma’am, here’s your order. Have a nice day”.


I’ve been staring at my pasta for the past 45 minutes, 15 seconds, the delicious red sauce pasta, I’d been craving for but I can’t seem to have it. I’m not hungry anymore.

“Stop being so panicky Vrinda, you’re just hungry, have the pasta, you’re not sad” (inner voice says, constant battling)

Wait! hey shut up, inner me! stop deluding me. I’m distressed, I’m afraid, I’m dejected, I’m, I’m lonely, should I call someone? But no one will understand because this feeling’s ineffable, it’s, it’s hard to describe. Forget it, I’ll just have my pasta. (Vrinda says)

So, you see this is who I am, I’m just exceptionally normal, but my feelings aren’t, they’re jittery, sometimes spooky, sometimes stressy, but people, its normal to live in an overwhelming emotional bubble like this, I just tend to mess things up sometimes okay, but I still am myself, an unimaginably, extraordinarily ordinary self.

Umm, well, that’s who I am, exceptionally normal.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Kirit P. Mehta School of Law Publications