I'm Nobody Poem by Kali Kaivalya

OPENING REFLECTION:


Who am I? — a question that echoes through the ages, haunting mystics, philosophers, seekers, and sceptics alike.

In a world obsessed with names, labels, and roles, the quiet declaration "I'm nobody" may seem like a retreat into insignificance.

But Kali Kaivalya's voice here does not whisper self-denial — it roars with spiritual insight.

This is not the cry of defeat, but the revelation of freedom.

To say "I'm nobody" is to look beyond the mirror of the ego, beyond the fixed identity built from memories, achievements, and expectations.

It's to walk into the wilderness of being, where the self is no longer a separate island but a wave in the great ocean of existence.

Drawing from Buddhist Anatta, existential absurdity, the interconnected web of life, and the humility of true knowing, this poem is a meditative unravelling — a gentle yet radical peeling away of illusion.

What remains when the "I" dissolves? Read on, and listen not just with the mind, but with the silence between your thoughts.


I'M NOBODY


I'm nobody—

not less,

but less separate.

Not empty,

but emptied of illusion.



The self — this name, this face —

is stitching in a dreamt-up robe,

woven from thoughts, memories, and roles.

What I called "I"

was only mist in the morning light.



The sages spoke of Anatta —

no fixed flame,

just flickers in the wind.

No core, no soul to call my own —

just change, just flow,

just being known

through what I'm not.



In silence, mystics found the same:

The "I" dissolves,

The veil is torn —

and in its place,

The One is born.



I am not a drop within the sea —

I am the sea

forgetting it was ever a drop.



I'm nobody —

not a mask,

not a meaning imposed by time.

Existence never promised sense.

It asked for courage,

not design.



Before the world gave me a name,

Before I chose a path or claim,

I was the vast, unshaped unknown —

not less than self,

but fully grown.



To wear a role is not to be —

to fix myself is blasphemy.

This freedom stings,

yet sets me free:

no essence carved,

no fate decreed.

A spark that flares, then fades to night—

a whisper

lost in cosmic flight.



I'm nobody —

not alone,

but wholly interwound.

I breathe because the trees exhale.

I stand because the soil holds still.

The I is we,

the self, a thread,

within the cloth of what is said

by rivers, stars,

and stones that see.



The separate self is a myth, a tale —

We're branches of the same inhale.

I vanish into root and sky —

No ego left to claim the "why."



I'm nobody —

and in that name,

I wear no crown,

I play no game.



Like Socrates,

I kneel to truth:

'I know I know not, '

says the youth

who dares to ask,

and never own

the wisdom that was never grown.



No pedestal,

no final word —

just silence where the soul is heard.

Just space to learn,

to bend, to bow,

to walk in wonder, here and now.



To say "I'm nobody" is grace —

to cast off the mask,

to find one's place

not as a star that seeks to shine,

but as the sky,

beyond all time.



CLOSING REFLECTION:


In the end, to be nobody is to return to the source — before the name, the form, and the story.

It is to be present without pretense, to act without attachment, to love without condition.

Kali Kaivalya invites us to embrace this absence, not as a void, but as vastness.

"I'm nobody" is not erasure; it is expansion.

It is the wisdom of one who has stepped out of the tight circle of self and merged with the boundless rhythm of being.

It is the humility of knowing we are both everything and nothing — dust and divinity, drop and ocean.

In a world loud with declarations of "I am, " this poem becomes a sacred pause,

a space to simply be.