The Thousand Faces of Me

Sometimes I sit back and think—who am I, really?

Actually not in some deep philosophical way (okay, maybe a little), but more like… out of multiple versions, which version of me is me?

Infact the truth is that a different version of me exists in the minds of everyone who knows me.

There’s the version my co-workers know—the guy who’s always joking around, making light of tense moments, tossing in random one-liners during meetings just to keep things moving with a smile. They find some version in me who is always looking to accomplish things in simple or easier way even compromising on the quality at times.

Then there’s a version my students see. That version is confident, put-together, someone who always has an answer or at least a direction to move in. I walk into class, set up slides, code something live on screen, and make it look like I’ve got it all figured out. (Truth? Half the time I’m just carrying out stuffs with experiments and instincts)

To my close friends, I’m the guy who randomly disappears for days—lost in a project, some side hustle, or deep into debugging something at 2 a.m. They know me as the one who can’t stop talking about tech, cracking lame jokes, or suddenly coming up with something unexpected and strange out of nowhere.

And then there are my colleagues—those who see me as focused, hardworking and even a little too structured at times. The one who shows up with a checklist and makes sure things actually get done.

And guess what the funny part is. All of them are right but none of them really know the full me.
Perhaps I don’t even know that version of myself.

Over the years, I’ve noticed how I’ve changed myself—sometimes in significant and obvious ways, while sometimes in those subtle, silent alterations that almost no one can notice.

There was this one time at a family gathering, a cousin of mine looked at me and said, “How can you be so serious all the time ?” That same week, one of my students smiled and told me, “Sir, you’re always chill. Always smiling.”

Two completely different observations. Same person. Same week. And both observations were true—from their point of view.

I remember a client I’d worked with remotely for months finally met me in person. The first thing he said, laughing, was, “You’re way more relaxed than I imagined!”

Apparently, I gave off serious corporate vibes over email—structured responses, clean formatting, always to the point. In reality, I just like clarity... with a side of sarcasm and jokes.

It’s strange, isn’t it? The person I think of as “me” might only exist in my own mind. Even then, I’m not always sure who that is. Some days I feel like I’ve got myself figured out. Other days, I feel like I’m still becoming whoever I’m meant to be.

I am sure I am not the only one who feels this. Yes, we all wear different masks, not because we’re being fake, but because identity isn’t fixed, its not absolute. It’s flexible and relative. We adjust. We shift. We keep changing. However, that doesn’t make us fake or unauthentic—it makes us human.

So who am I, really?

Maybe I’m all of those versions. Maybe mix of all versions based on scenario or environment I am in.
Maybe I’m just pieces scattered across people’s memories.
Maybe the real “me” isn’t a solid thing—but a collection of moments, impressions, and evolving reflections.

And maybe that’s okay.
Maybe we were never meant to be just one thing.

But still…
Sometimes I wonder—if I met myself the way others do,
Would I even recognize me?