Identity

 

Identity: The Story We Inherit and the Story We Create

A few years ago, I found myself contemplating a deceptively simple question:

Who am I?

At first, the answer seemed obvious. I am a son, a brother, a husband, a father, an engineer, a writer, etc. But as I reflected further, I realized that each of these labels represented an identity, some given to me at birth and others earned through experience.

That realization led me to think deeply about the nature of identity itself.

I was born to Telugu-speaking parents in the small town of Tirupattur in Tamil Nadu. My family belonged to a long line of merchants. My father owned a textile showroom and dedicated his life to the business, while my mother managed our home and family.

Growing up, my world revolved around two places: school and our textile shop. My elder brother and I spent much of our childhood helping our father. Whenever he travelled out of town to purchase inventory, one of us would often skip school to look after the shop. It was simply part of life.

In our community, education was rarely considered a long-term pursuit. It was common for boys to join the family business after completing the 10th or 12th standard. College education was the exception rather than the norm.

By all expectations, I was destined to follow the same path.

Yet there was something different about me. I was endlessly curious. Whenever I encountered a toy, a machine, or any new object, I wanted to understand how it worked. I was fascinated by mechanisms, processes, and the hidden logic behind everyday things.

Academically, I was not a brilliant student. I would describe myself as average. However, I enjoyed learning and was willing to put in the effort.

Then came the turning point.

When my 10th standard results were announced, I scored 8.8 CGPA. Today that may not sound extraordinary, but in the context of my family and community, it was completely unexpected. The result surprised everyone, including me.

My only goal had been to outperform my elder brother's score by a small margin. Instead, the result opened a door that I never imagined would be available to me.

Ironically, my brother had also successfully completed his schooling around the same time. My father, who had been patiently waiting for one of us to join the business full-time, suddenly faced a difficult dilemma.

As a family, we discussed our options. Eventually, a compromise emerged. My brother would enroll in an evening degree program while continuing to support the family business.

When it came to my future, I knew exactly what I wanted.

I chose to pursue a Diploma in Mechanical Engineering.

My reasoning was simple. I did not know how long I would be allowed to continue my education. Whatever opportunity I had, I wanted to maximize it. More importantly, I wanted to satisfy my curiosity about how things worked.

Looking back, that decision changed the trajectory of my life.

It opened doors to higher education, professional opportunities, and experiences that would have been unimaginable during my childhood. I went on to build a career as a mechanical engineer, eventually taking on leadership responsibilities and working across technical, commercial, and strategic roles.

The interesting thing is that none of these later identities were inherited.

They were earned.

This distinction between inherited and earned identities has become increasingly important to me.

Inherited identities are the ones we receive without choice. Our family, language, birthplace, culture, and community shape our earliest understanding of who we are. These identities provide roots. They give us belonging and continuity.

Earned identities, on the other hand, are built through choices, effort, and experience. They emerge from the institutions we attend, the professions we pursue, the values we embrace, and the contributions we make to others.

Neither is more important than the other.

Inherited identities tell us where we come from.

Earned identities tell the story of what we choose to become.

When I revisit the question "Who am I?", I no longer search for a single answer. Instead, I see a collection of identities woven together across different stages of life.

The curious child in a textile shop.

The student who chose engineering.

The professional who pursued a career in technology and industry.

The husband, father, manager, and writer.

Each identity represents a chapter in an ongoing story.

Perhaps that is what identity truly is; not a fixed definition but an evolving narrative. Some parts are gifted to us by circumstance. Others are created through our decisions and actions.

Together, they form the unique story that each of us carries through life.

The letter "I" in the word "I" is not a single thing. It is a collection of identities, inherited and earned, that together define who we are.

And perhaps the most beautiful part of identity is that while we cannot change where our story begins, we always have a say in how the next chapter is written.