Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be? 

- Charles Bukowski 

       It all begins with a name. Then as one grows up, as one gets exposed to the world, as one gets entangled in the society, layers of identities spin around one leading to suffocation. Identity is supposed to liberate one, not torment and shrink one. But it does. Over one's lifetime, identity crawls behind like a shadow waiting to devour the very essence of one's life. But, yes, identity is a privilege as well as a punishment, like a double edged sword. One who is aware of this politics may survive in sailing the ship called 'Life'. 

       One island you ought to anchor at is Art. From being a passion to a profession, art shapes one's identity. To articulate the identity of an artist is to let people know the scenes that happen behind the stage, to mention the joy and sorrow, to realise the impact of the societal ideologies, to speak aloud the less to untold experiences of an artist, who deems it to be their utmost identity.