My Identical

In this world of billions I am truely alone. Alone not because i have no friends or relatives, alone because there is no one like me. Every morning i wake up and do my regular duties and work at my regular place. In these habitats of mine i have come to know everyone.But no one is like me. However the search of my identical does not end.

This search takes me to loads of places.Sometimes i wander in perceptionally lewd alleys and forbidden lanes. Here i try to talk to the folk. These men and women who have sold their bodies for upkeep of their livelihood see me as a customer but when they know about my search , they lose heart. Yet they paint my mind with their unusual stories. Some of them talk about sadness and some of their hopes. I do not consider their work bad nor do i consider their souls corrupted. I do not burden myself with judgement.

I sit by the river and see the boats. I try and find my identical in the boatmen.I do not talk. I try to observe and learn. These men of labour and toil inspire me. Once they held sway over this city. Once if they wanted they could have withheld their services and the city would have starved to death. Yet they did not. They have kept their word. But has the city honoured them??

I find a part of myself in rebellion. It rebels against age old customs, hypocrisy, ignorance, insensitivity and many more. I feel this part of mine just wants to explode.But i control it. I try to find my identical in the street protesters and writers.

The street protesters are all in their young. They are idealistic. However they are not tolerant. They do not tolerate opposers. I went with a banner of support to meet my protester identicals but they mistook me as a supporter of they people they were opposing and hurt me. When they realised their mistake, they stopped hurting me and continued their work.The protesters are physical and brutal.

The writers i felt were almost like me. But when i asked them how they wanted to implement their thoughts, some of them ignored me. I felt like they were more than me. I would have to reach a stool as high as they are and sit on it to talk to them. However some were kind but their answers made me feel as though my identical cannot reside here.

Alas i do not know where i shall find my identical mind. A person who would understand me, love me when i hate, cry with me , talk to me when i am angry and hope for me when i stop hoping. I once had held a hand in mine but alas i left it. Now there is noone like me!!