After losing the passion for ensuring that there are footprints left on every step of the way I walked, I started walking into a night in the making. Hoping there would be no other sunrise. If I looked back, I would definitely have things I would cherish. But I choose not to. Not because they would fade away with the arrival of night. But because I wanted to contemplate on the very existence itself.
The sun is setting behind my back. I looked down. I could see my shadow. I thought, Is the shadow real?. How would it be real, if it exists only in the presence of light?. And it cannot be unreal, because I'm looking at it at the moment. Is it the case that, there is really no way of telling if something is absolutely real or unreal if it is not permanent?. But then neither my body nor mind is permanent, they could perish anytime.
I thought, What if the world is devoid of the idea of reflection, then there is no way I could see myself entirely. Then the only way I can see myself entirely is to look at my own shadow. But that is not me. And, What if the nature of reality is in such a way that, One is ignorant of his own true self, lost in the experiences of body and mind, And being unable to realize that he is not the body and mind, as easy as realizing that one is not his shadow.
Then there manifests the eternal question. Who am I?. Who was born when the sun rose? Whose shadow was cast as body and mind in the presence of life? Who is dying when the sun is setting?