Do you know me?

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Would you know me?

All over the world, across the cyberspace or across a few inches between two persons sitting on a park bench, in silence with intense loudness or in whispers this question is asked, yesterday, today and tomorrow—as long as relationship would matter.
We assume things about a person that may be partially right or fully wrong, there is really no other alternative. She may not say anything significant about herself to let you know, she may not even know herself let alone let you know or she may intentionally let you know what she is not. On top of that lies the uncertainty embedded in human language—you want to say something, instead you say some other thing and she understands something else.

You have to assume always.
Depending on the quality of pairing between you and her, you understand her or she understands you. But finally, it is your assumption about her with all its uncertainties built-in. Is it a tragedy? Is it helplessness? I think not. Even if I am wrong about her totally that does not matter much.
We create our world by our assumptions only; and we live on those assumptions. There goes the saying—man is a collection of memories. Memories virtual are real to us.
Do you really know me? Do I know myself?

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