The Mirror….

A voice within is silent,
losing its loquaciousness midst the noisy crowd...
unnerved by revelations...
but shadowed by misinterpretations cloud...
the self camouflages its identity..
through multifarious forms and roles...
pure, unadulterated would perhaps be serendipity...
unearthed in deep holes...
i seldom soliloquise that in a life burgeoning with opportunities ,
why everyone gets into different moulds...
like wet clay having no potential
and succumbing to the potters interpretations....
Would it require another renaissance to jolt the predictable minds...
why aspirations are mere means to get money or another position...
My genre of peers are oft found following trends, where creativity and thinking seem defunct...
there may be degrees , there may be profiles and accolades to boast ,
 but all seem the same with perhaps different names...
its an ocean deep and voracious,
with mimics of different trends.
passions rest like pearls in oysters...
originality  pricelessly  contained...
There comes a Bhagat who inspires anyone to write the  same college tales...
A size zero Bebo motivates zillions to grow thin and pale...
IIT's , IIM's  become destinations to be king of the flock...
and the black sheep suffer with a thinking block..
When I look into the mirror,
with my  fringes and flocks ....
Is it me who is standing...
or someone similar to the many in stock...