Who Am I

'Who Am I' is a transcendental audio experience traversing geographic borders in the pursuit of a collective consciousness. The album explores spirituality, femininity and identity intertwined with spoken word poetry, song and traditional chant. It tells the story of a woman in search for truth, as she embarks on a journey of essence and looking to the natural world for wisdom to overcome her deepest fears. Who Am I brings to life Sunara’s untold story; that of a spirited outsider reaching into the future at the time of the Draconian Age. Serendipity, intuition and an enchanting journey of purpose as well as her quest to uncover the missing links of her ancestors, give this unique album its magical extra dimension. It is a meditation on the convergence of spirituality, mythology and mysticism; a unique meeting point between tradition and modernity.

Transcript

I am who I am and where I am is home.

I am who I am and where I am is home.

I am,

I will,

I live today,

I try hard,

I breathe.

I work for me,

I do my due,

I want,

I hope,

I wish I could fly.

I love what isn't loved,

I hate,

I listen to the wind,

I die tomorrow,

I watch myself,

I accept what I'm given,

I write to escape.

I can see,

I don't have a father,

I allow time for change,

I smell mother's cooking,

I believe in the oneness.

I go home,

I never smoke,

I practice.

I cry for stillness,

I play,

I survive each day,

I shine because of you.

I get nothing,

I grow,

I think too much,

I talk,

I sleep,

I look plain,

I surprise myself,

I still have chocolate.

I smile,

I make,

I spend,

I throw,

I speak,

I cook,

I clean my room,

I fly when I can,

I travel inside.

I drive my own life,

I fall and get back up,

I go where I've never been,

I grow,

I pray,

I hold on one more day.

I fight,

I choose,

I feel sad,

I open my hands,

I turn back,

I close the book,

I start again,

I end when I've finished.

I carry my thoughts,

I follow my own voice,

I exchange,

I create stories,

I search my soul,

I freeze.

I am and I will.

The sounds of my mother's memories filled my ears.

She would sing songs,

Recall chants and recite stories of moments past.

A deep sense of longing lay at the core of all that she spoke of,

Sang about and whispered in the sacred silent nights between dusk and dawn.

Her memories were her personal connection,

A guide to who she was,

A compass that was leading the way and a navigator for her consciousness.

As a child I escaped deep into my mother's story,

Songs and chants,

Not wanting to return.

They took me to a place of possibility that I recognised and knew so vividly.

A place I had visited before.

I was transported,

I drew with my eyes closed,

I painted in my dreams,

I held onto still images of her memories and kept them close to me.

I am a woman,

I am brown,

I am an immigrant,

I am majority,

I am a seeker of truth,

A dweller in the unknown and a dreamer of the impossible.

I am a seeker of truth,

A dweller in the unknown and a dreamer of the impossible.

A journey from home,

Performances about life,

Actions of every day,

Stories of all colours,

Across borders,

Of human struggles,

Of love,

Breaking stereotypes,

A time between tradition and modernity,

Reinventing cultures and celebrating difference.

Spirituality,

Community,

Identity,

Things that keep us sane,

We create art to make peace.

I come from a long line of Sufi saints who brought Sufism to Bangladesh.

Though it is a spiritual approach,

My work is not religious,

It just reflects the way I am in my life.

Our perception is shaped by our environment.

Our environment is shaped by our perception.

I am who I am and where I am is home.

I am who I am and where I am is home.

Who am I?

Who am I?

How did I get here?

Where am I going?

Light was my first love,

Captured in a shadow,

An infinite existence.

Overwhelmed by waves,

Darkness was my solitude.

Travelling through open gates,

Sky envelops me.

I hear my own steel voice.

I hear my own steel voice.

No,

No,

No.

No,

No,

No.

No,

No,

No.

I can tell you I am a woman.

I can tell you I am with child.

I can tell you even ineffable things about love and such,

Describe each labyrinth of my mind and the temperament of my soul.

I can tell you the moments I became conscious of my consciousness,

The fateful shade of purple that painted the sky.

Yet in all this self-awareness,

There lies an ontological mystery.

I am at odds to disguise who am I?

Displace,

Displaced,

Displace,

Displacement,

Displacement,

Displacement to be my home,

Displacement to be my home.

The fear is I shall give birth to an Oedipus,

Blind to his beginnings.

Surely I will,

For I am blind,

Blind birthing the blind.

And in realization of my wretchedness,

He will take these two ivory tusks and impale his irises to darken the shame.

The disgrace of displacement,

Displacement,

Displace,

Displaced,

Displace,

Displacement,

Displacement,

Displacement to be my home.

The gods are mocking me in chorus,

Or maybe my tragedy is as mythical as my metaphor.

Delusions of heroic grandeur,

For the quest for self-knowledge is not unique to me or any other branch of this diasporic tree.

It is the common condition of humanity,

But it burdens and dismembers me.

History is the nightmare in which I am awake,

Ruptured and forever changing.

In those midnight tremors,

I am the ivory keys and history plays me incessantly.

Each stroke strums at my identity,

A syncopated symphony,

Reverberations to the soul,

Discords in consciousness.

History,

The cure and the cause to my cultural insanity,

Displaced pathology.

I am the disused byproduct of imperial conspiracies,

And so is he,

He,

A being more unaccounted for than me.

But I cannot construct his or my identity out of half-remembered memories or fractured pre-colonial utopian fantasies.

Yet,

I must resist the silence,

I must resist the silence,

I must resist the silence and discourse,

Displaced,

Displaced,

Displaced,

Displacement,

Displacement,

Displacement to be my home.

Without anchor,

Without horizon,

Rootless,

Stateless,

Wingless,

Weightless,

I must stay grounded in this prison of language,

For if I succumb to the silence,

Surely I shall fail to exist.

Or maybe silence is the answer and identity,

The myth,

Assembled for the purpose of purposefulness.

O God,

Free my mind of this historical myth that enshrouds me.

I am who I am and where I am is home.

I am who I am and where I am is home.

I am who I am and where I am is home.

Simple,

Or simply put,

A way for that bestial angst to draw breath some other day.

No,

I must not take refuge in simplicity,

Nor seek asylum in reverie.

I am chained to history.

Displace,

Displaced,

Displaced,

Displacement,

Displacement,

Displacement to be my home.

What do they see when they look at me,

Us,

A woman in limbo,

A foetus in purgatory,

To be born but still with a kind of death,

Bereft of a homeland you've never left?

The umbilical,

The ambiguity,

Cut,

And I am in pains to see your destiny.

Sunburnt shadows on the nape of your neck,

Curls encrusted with molasses,

White cotton your second skin,

A signature of whips on the small of your back.

My mind is running a priory,

But in this present space and time,

My arms and soul are rocking pure liberty.

Water submerged the earth like the beginning of time.

My mother always mentions the importance of home as the place of our existence before our consciousness.

Mine began here.

In the waters of my memory,

I search for home.

Where is home?

In anticipation I made my journey in search for truth.

As the waters are bound by the cycle of creation,

I realised I am looking for something that is moving,

As I am moving also.

My homeland swept me away in a state of euphoria.

Through the movement,

The turbulence and the ebb and flow of circumstance,

The people hold onto their will against all odds.

Where is that will?

I search for it wherever I go.

I am looking at their will as they look at mine.

In their space that was once my space,

I ask,

Can we share the same fertile earth?

Sometimes they embrace me,

Sometimes they reject me,

Sometimes they make me feel like I am an outsider,

Sometimes they make me feel like I belong.

My deeper memory was overcome with melancholy,

Foretelling the mark of separation and the pain of eternal loss.

When you see your end,

You face your moments of truth.

Home is a bittersweet pill between love,

Euphoria,

Beauty and pain.

We live in the place that lies between.

It gives us with one hand and takes away everything with the other.

Truth is a light built on sorrow.

Tears do not wash away heartache.

Knowledge does not bring comfort.

Home is a bittersweet pill.

My love for a land that I belong to is a bond that cannot be broken by time or circumstance.

The light and the way walk parallel.

My place is somewhere in between,

Trying to hear the sound of my own voice and the sonics of my soul.

Essence is the path closer to the subconscious.

The soul transmits inner truths without words.

As I walk further into my path,

I find I am losing more and more of my rationale,

Leaving me naked to myself,

Like the seed I began with.

I dance to remember.

The stream,

The lake and the valley direct me to the palace within me,

That place I want to be,

Within and without.

The established connection is eternal.

I live it through the essence.

Intangible is the state of my being.

I dance to remember.

The path closer to the subconscious.

The path closer to the subconscious.

The path closer to the subconscious.

The path closer to the subconscious.

The path closer to the subconscious.

The path closer to the subconscious.

The path closer to the subconscious.

The path closer to the subconscious.

The path closer to the subconscious.

Who am I?

How did I get here?

Where am I going?

Light was my first love,

Captured in a shadow,

An infinite existence.

Overwhelmed by waves,

Darkness was my solitude.

Travelling through open gates,

Sky envelops me.

I hear my own steel voice.

Where am I?

Where am I?

River Goddess,

I seek you.

You submerge my essence,

I am you.

I find reason for surviving a greater vision to my existence.

But losing hope,

The beginning of entrapment,

Begging for release as voices around me become my own consciousness.

When the negativity travels bone deep,

I cannot escape,

I am lost.

Submerged in the sanctuary of soullessness,

I am overcome by the fears caused by losing time,

Losing what is mine,

In search for a new me.

I am propelled by curiosity,

It lives within me.

River Goddess,

I seek you.

You submerge my essence,

I am you.

I find reason for surviving a greater vision to my existence.

On the road I cling to a legacy released when space took a hold of what was unseen.

Belief seemed futile under circumstances that last but seconds in the greater picture.

A reality seemed miles away from an inmate that lives in me.

Dreams scattered in search of a lost dream.

Love emerged.

Love for what I could be,

Love for eternity,

Love for the cycle to continue,

Love for memory,

Love of truth revealed or concealed,

Love of the universal,

Love for self,

Love of you and me,

Love of old souls,

Love of nature.

Love for divine love,

Self-love,

Spirit-love,

Momentary love,

Just love.

It was my first country,

The first place I ever lived.

No,

No,

No.

I am you,

You are my soul,

You are my soul,

You are my soul,

You are my soul.

You are my soul,

You are my soul.

No,

No,

No.

Baby,

Baby,

Baby,

Baby.

No,

No,

No.

My mother was my first country,

The first place I ever lived.

No,

No,

No.

Beyond the turbulence,

Beyond the unrest,

Beyond the chaos,

Beyond the pain,

Beyond the rock,

We are stronger than we can ever imagine.

We are stronger than we can ever imagine.

We are stronger than we can ever imagine.

We are stronger than we can ever imagine.

Beyond the turbulence,

Beyond the unrest,

Beyond the chaos,

Beyond the pain,

Beyond the rock,

We are stronger than we can ever imagine.

Beyond the turbulence,

Beyond the unrest,

Beyond the chaos,

Beyond the rock,

We are stronger than we can ever imagine.

Amitraya namaha.

Am Surya namaha.

Am Kagay namaha.

Am Pushne namaha.

Am Hiranya garbaya namaha.

Am Marichay namaha.

Am Aditya namaha.

Am Savitri namaha.

Am Adikay namaha.

Am Bhaskaray namaha.

I am born of water,

In a land where water has no recognition.

In the waters of my memory,

I search for home.

Movement is my essence,

Spirit is my calling.

I am a child of water.

I seek knowledge beyond the precipice.

I listen for the sounds of the world beyond my home.

We are formed by the pillars of our upbringing.

We are bound by the bonds of love that hold us.

I draw wisdom from the cycle of a bygone era.

Pain takes the stone of stability and I lose my foothold.

Enclosed within darkness,

I resist the passing.

I am without innocence.

I am the child of an immigrant family in a strange land.

Where thoughts vanish the concrete walls and mothers struggle to find water.

I search for a place of belonging in a land far from my home.

I seek knowledge beyond the precipice.

I seek knowledge beyond the precipice.

I am born of water,

In a land where water has no recognition.

Ooh.

.

.

Ooh.

.

.

Ooh.

.

.

Ooh.

.

.

Ooh.

.

.

Ooh.

.

.

Ooh.

.

.

Ooh.

.

.

Ooh.

.

.

Ooh.

.

.

Ooh.

.

.

The Sound of the Wind Home is the place before our consciousness,

A moment of solitude and stillness beyond.

Listening to the voice within unfolds a journey of dreams that opens new horizons between the voice of ancestral memory and the conflict of present confinement.

Freedom emerges in the space between time.

Hope is drawn from the seed of yesterday and the promise of a future that defies tradition.

I live to dream and dream to live.

The Sound of the Wind I am confronted by two silhouettes.

The two shadows envelop me like branches of a tree and rob me of all my possessions.

They take away my dreams engraved on my senses and my second innocence is lost.

Desolation.

.

.

Desolation.

.

.

The Sound of the Wind In the reflection comes knowledge.

In the solitude comes wisdom.

I am haunted by my dreams until they recede into memories.

I am shaped by the path that imprints our essence.

The Sound of the Wind In the reflection comes knowledge.

In the solitude comes wisdom.

I am haunted by my dreams until they recede into memories.

I am shaped by the path that imprints our essence.

The Sound of the Wind I move to be at one with the elements.

I draw from the fountain of creation and I am embraced by the unseen eye.

The Wind speaks to me of three trials,

A testament of pain,

Loss and truth.

I submit my will to the forces and my turmoil is healed in the release of trance.

The Sound of the Wind I become the spirit of dance and the ripples of my ancestors guide my destiny.

I am the light of the world and I am the light of the world.

I am the light of the world and the ripples of my ancestors guide my destiny.

The Sound of the Wind I clasp the earth for reassurance.

My journey is a quest to meet the soil of my father's existence.

I move to the sway of the wind.

I tread the straight road in pilgrimage to my beginnings.

The Sound of the Wind I clasp the earth for reassurance.

My journey is a quest to meet the soil of my father's existence.

I move to the sway of the wind.

I tread the straight road in pilgrimage to my beginnings.

I am the warrior of truth.

I am the warrior of truth.

I am the warrior of truth.

I am the warrior of truth.

I am a beacon of freedom beyond confines and transcend the afflictions placed upon me.

I am torn between life and aspirations and become a child of nature.

I hold the red cloth and the fire burns within.

I am the warrior of truth.

I am the warrior of truth.

The Sound of the Wind I embody the guidance of the path and the surety of the way.

I feel my father's presence and my mother's blessings and have found myself in the reflection of others.

I invoke the past in the present and command the forces that flow within me.

I subdue the turbulent sea and become the eternal woman.

The Sound of the Wind Ya Salam,

Ya Halim,

Ya Habib Ya Zahir,

Ya Rahman,

Ya Rahim Ya Jami,

Ya Wali,

Ya Waki Ya Batid,

Ya Karim,

Ya Jali Ya Basid,

Ya Rafi,

Ya Latif Ya Zahir,

Ya Batid,

Ya Wali Ya Majid,

Ya Shahid,

Ya Mazid Ya Hamid,

Ya Waki,

Ya Thamid Ya Salam,

Ya Halim,

Ya Habib Ya Zahir,

Ya Rahman,

Ya Rahim Ya Jami,

Ya Wali,

Ya Waki Ya Batid,

Ya Karim,

Ya Jali Ya Basid,

Ya Rafi,

Ya Latif Ya Zahir,

Ya Batid,

Ya Wali Ya Majid,

Ya Shahid,

Ya Mazid Ya Hamid,

Ya Waki,

Ya Thamid Ya Salam,

Ya Halim,

Ya Habib Ya Zahir,

Ya Rahman,

Ya Rahim Ya Jami,

Ya Wali,

Ya Waki Ya Batid,

Ya Karim,

Ya Jali Ya Salam,

Ya Halim,

Ya Habib Ya Zahir,

Ya Rahman,

Ya Rahim Ya Jami,

Ya Wali,

Ya Waki Ya Batid,

Ya Karim,

Ya Jali Ya Salam,

Ya Halim,

Ya Habib Ya Zahir,

Ya Rahman,

Ya Rahim Ya Jami,

Ya Wali,

Ya Waki Ya Batid,

Ya Karim,

Ya Jali Ya Salam,

Ya Halim,

Ya Habib Ya Zahir,

Ya Rahman,

Ya Rahim Ya Jami,

Ya Wali,

Ya Waki Ya Batid,

Ya Karim,

Ya Jali Ya Zahir,

Ya Halim,

Ya Wali Ya Zahir,

Ya Rahman,

Ya Waki Ya Zahir,

Ya Halim,

Ya Waki

Reviews

Not what I was expecting for a guided meditation at first, but ended up being quite a lovely exploration of language and spirit.

Thanks a lot for your reflections for me plenty of insights.
💫

Incredibly powerful ❤️

Love this. Amazing journey

Very interesting mix of spoken word, earthy music, and just being. You can tell this was made with love. Looking forward to experiencing it again.

Excellent 🙏thank you very much for this wonderful meditation.. I only have one thing to suggest.. you have 2 diff things going on in this session,

you have relaxing parts n energetic parts.. wish u had 2 diff sessions, the energetic one for like morn or afternoon session.. the more calmer n relaxing part for even or nite.. was so into it and then energetic part caught me off guard n then couldn’t relax , I finished.. I loved it.. it needs 2 sessions.. thank you 🙏🏼Namaste ☯️🎧🎶

WOW. What a beautifully enchanting piece of art.

I went to other dimensions within myself. Amazing work of spirit, art and beauty! The journey contrasted sharply the mirror I’m most used to looking into...this is...me

Bueatiful words and music. Needs to listened to again. Om Shanti

I love this piece. It is extraordinary. Not your usual guided meditation, more an arts journey which takes you to all sorts of places and so worth the ride. Provoking words and sensory richness. Exploration of one woman’s journey into her very existence.

That was an extraordinary and artful recitation filled with prose, imagery, passion, simulating sounds and exotic voices. It felt like reading 20 books at once. Very compelling in it's uniqueness and elegance.

On occasion I would miss a word or two but not a huge distraction.
THANK you for sharing your talents 💕

Words cannot paint the picture that you conveyed to me with this piece. You spoke to me in ways I’ve only heard my creator speak to me. Please share more, as your words are keeping me afloat and in this existence❤️🕉