Ideal identity

Arshleen Kaur

My identity? My name
My name is a river drowned in the ocean of forgotten
It is a time capsule buried in Mariana Trench
It is a clamour to be engraved on a lover’s locket
It is a gentle strumming on a ukulele’s strings when he serenades me
It is a whisper of my mother after singing me a lullaby

My identity? My language
My language is a play of letters and entangled words imbibed by poetry
It is an alchemy of cajon, djembe, guitar and violin playing altogether
It is a caravan talking and making miles and miles of love to the desert
It is the chanting of Bible’s verses , Shabads in Guru Granth saahib , shlokas in Bhagavad Gita, and Ayahs in Quran
It is often white in colour , singing the song of solitude
It is a language where your vocabulary becomes mine and mine become yours
It is the mother tongue of universe since time immemorial

My identity? My scars
My scars are Marias and highlands tattooed on the moon
They are the preserved historical manuscripts written in gold
They are the ghosts from past but wisdom granted by a Seraph itself
They are the hallmark of millennial fiascos and petty sins
They are the rumours of ‘once upon a time’ kind of tragic story
They are the manifestations of a baby’s first steps and grief of a bereaved man

My identity? My soul
My soul is subtly a Renaissance painting framed on a museum’s wall
It is a fusion of queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody and Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah
It is a contemporary dance with a dash of Salsa
It is a scent exuding out of an old perfume bottle
It is the heart of Kashmir valley palpitating rapidly in Mumbai city lights
It is simply an invitation letter to life


My identity?It is my individuality
I ablute in the four elements of it
My name: to be a roar of my impending arrival
My language: to be an unceasing sky
My scars: to be a painted canvas on an easel
My soul: to be the only trial of my verity

So, to put it in simple words ,
Identity is merely an excerpt from the poet’s poetry about the poet