“All the world’s a stage” – Shakespeare came to this conclusion years and years ago. The first time I read the line, I was in “I couldn’t care less” mode. Of course, I was only 16, and one of my gravest concerns at the time was acne.

But, as I grew older (and hopefully a tad wiser) I kind of began comprehending the depth of this line. In mere five words, Shakespeare has explained all there is to humanity. At each stage in our life, we are enacting a certain role. Sometimes it’s pre-defined, and most of the times, we simply mould into it depending on our circumstances.

The participation in the drama commences at an early age. While as kids we are too naïve and young to shield ourselves from the adult drama, we are not left with much choice, but to take on an independent role of our own. And slowly and steadily as we start turning into adults, our roles become more and more complex. The pre-school going toddler, who can sing the alphabet song without mistakes, soon becomes a Marketing Strategist, who knows just how to make many, many promises about delivery, quality and timelines to the person sitting across him.

I guess the main reason why we are all so involved and obsessed with our roles is because slowly as we proceed and switch from one role to another, we start identifying with everything we play. And in the absence of all the roles, our life may feel hopeless and empty. But are we more than the roles we are playing? Is there something more valuable under layers and layers and years and years of being the doting father, the CEO, the soccer mom, the jovial gay, the little miss perfect, or the independent “adult”? Maybe our roles serve as a safety blanket, and we are not ready to face ourselves in that state of vulnerability and confusion.

We all have developed an image over the years of how others view us. Our entire life revolves around this coined image. Our plus points, our negative traits, our dressing style, our haircut and our mood, they all in a way define who we are.

Let me give you an example. About a year ago, I had gone to a nightclub with my fiancé. Being a Saturday night, the place was packed, and the wait person had already come to us three times to ask us to place our drinks order. Since we were waiting for our friends, we told him off all three times, which kind of put him off. Our funda was clear, we are just waiting for our friends, and once they arrive, we will place our order. The man, however, got ticked off and spoke to us rather rudely. Both of us decided to leave the place and wait outside for our friends. Obviously I was cheesed off, but it didn’t matter so much as I anyway was not in the mood to spend the next three hours in a severely over-crowded place.

Shortly our friends arrived. I told them the incident and for some reason they didn’t pay much heed. And suddenly I was feeling irrationally angry. How could he speak to “me” like that? I am going to put him in his place. I went and had an argument with the owner and snatched an apology from him, as all my friends looked on.

Technically I should have felt powerful and relieved, since I had made a strong point. But somehow, I felt low, defeated and upset. The next day, I realized that the whole going back and arguing was a mere ego trip. My friends have always known me as a girl, who stands up for herself and does not back down. And my ego obviously overtook the fact that I was not interested in spending the rest of the evening at that club. But not crashing my image in front of friends, who have known me a long time, was the most important thing in the world for me at that time. And I didn’t even realize when the obsession of being right overtook anything else that truly mattered during the course of that evening.

As a teenager, I used to be really fascinated with people who had the knack of communicating differently with different people. It’s almost like donning a difference appearance, depending on who is in front of you. I used to be thoroughly impressed with such individuals. They had the ability to get along with everyone and be the centre of attention. Wow!

But now I really do wonder who they are actually! In playing multiple roles and maintaining an image, do they even recall who they actually are? I no longer feel fascinated or impressed with them. Instead, I feel blessed, that in moments of satori (where the evil mind does not take you over), I can actually get in touch with myself – the real me. And what can be better than those around you liking and accepting you for who you are, instead of who you can play?