Rogue

My magniloquent self

Stands in the middle of a vociferous crowd

I hear the people

Singing accolades for me

I love this fame

I love the idea that people around me

Acknowledge me as an achiever.

The fact that all the kudos

Is unearned and undeserved

Remains inconsequential.

So what if I am grabbing

Someone else’s share of applause

Who would ever come to know?

I am not a scrupulous person like everybody else

And I am sure that the immoral me

Will never have to face any eye.

I see my reflection in the mirror

And feel proud of being what I am.

But

Is my reflection proud of being me?

Why is it giving me that look of disavowal?

Despite all the admiration, all the glory,

Why does my own reflection

Make me feel like a scoundrel?

I scream blue murder

And shatter the glass into a thousand shards

But each shard screams back at me

And tells me

That I’ve cheated the figure in the glass

I’ve cheated my own self.

Devanshi
April 2004