The only thing that defines me is a lack of self; at least, the self that one could see. Whatever the analogy du jour was- be it a changeling, a shapeshifter, an actor or a bearer of many masks – it was an element of pretence. Like a façade, one only sees the front- the “face” of its building but never what lurks behind it. Like a business that springs from money laundering, the unconscious mind is kept away from such things, maintaining an air of naivety and innocence, appeasing its patrons and onlookers. On occasion, the mask slips, the walls show cracks, string snaps, but it doesn’t take too long for such mistakes to be mended.

Chehara Vitaran