Knowing nobody

In 'Tales of Kitagaki', the powerful Governor of Kyoto arrives to meet the Zen Master Gasan. He sends ahead his ornate calling card engraved with his grand political title. Gasan glances at it and flatly refuses entry. 'I have no business with such a fellow,' he shouts. Realising his mistake, Kitagaki takes the card, draws a sharp line straight through his title, and sends it back. Gasan smiles warmly and says, 'Ah, is that Kitagaki? Show him in. I would love to meet the man.' Kitagaki's crossed-out title holds up a mirror to our modern reality - a world deeply anchored in corporate designations, personal branding and an exhausting race for external validation.

We often spend lifetimes curating a 'Somebody'. The sum of our visible achievements. Underneath all the layers we build for our identity, who are we? Ancient Indian philosophical texts identified this as Svarupa, with connotations of reality's essential, unchangeable, intrinsic nature. Unalterable and pure. Existentialist thought echoes this. Dissolve the ego-identity - name, career, status, possessions - and what remains beneath the Somebody is a Nobody. Svarupa, however, beyond the contrast of nobody and somebody, is what is underneath all along, waiting, whether the Somebody was ever built or not. Even Odysseus, a king, had to become 'Nobody' to escape the Cyclops' cave. His ego couldn't bear the lightness of it, so he quickly succumbed and announced himself as a 'Somebody' once more.