When I was born... I didn't know my name. I didn't know my religion. I didn't know my nation. I didn't know... what God looked like. Someone... told me. They handed me words... before I had questions. Definitions... before experience. Conclusions... before observation. Little by little... I stopped seeing. I started remembering... what I'd been told. What color... is the world... without language? What is Life... before someone defines it? What is Love... before fear explains it? I looked... through borrowed eyes. I called inherited thoughts... my own. I defended ideas... I had never examined. Not because I was dishonest... Because... that's how every child learns. The question... isn't whether we inherited beliefs. We all did. The question is... which ones... still belong? If I had been born... somewhere else... Would I defend... a different truth? Would I pray... to another name? Would I fear... another hell? Would I be... just as certain? Perhaps certainty... isn't evidence. Perhaps... it's habit. So today... I return... these borrowed eyes. Not because they were evil. Not because anyone lied. But because... I want to see. For the first time. Teach me... without memory. Show me... before language. Let me see... with my own eyes.
