They Call It Fame

They Call It Fame

A Poem by Pratik


“The fame thing isn't really real… you know…Don't forget …I'm also just a girl… standing in front of a boy… asking him to love her.”  Julia Roberts (as Anna Scott in Notting Hill)

A pseudo-panorama,

On the tainted panes

Of my white limousine,

The mutant flashes

Of thousands flashbulbs

Engaged in a bedazzled seizure

Of my synthetic effigy,

Through the night’s curtains

I see the scuffling torsos

Of Jurassic shadows,

The catcalls and yelps calling,

Garbled variants of my name

Coalesce in the exhaled air,

Like a frosty slush inundating

Ruins of the wraith town,

They clamor in tiny streams

For the last piece of molded cheese.

They call it


In parallel chronologies,

When I gag in taffeta pillows

And purging in crystal lights,

I tell stories

Of a lost fable.

Once upon a time,

Camouflaged in the folds,

There lay a sculpture

Drawing cryptic contours

Around my navel ring.

As I saw the coy smile fading,

The stolid face

In a luminescence of shadows,

Your construed truths,

Mumbles of constrained space,

Soaring ambitions and antagonistic lives,

There were few beats

Of my plummeting heart

That knew what was coming.

It was over.

Sooner than the flicker of fireflies.

But there were leftovers,

A melanin residue,

He called it


© 2012 Pratik

Author's Note

This is one of the spontaneous pieces I wrote. I was watching Notting Hill a few days back… and there was this scene of Julia Roberts coming back to Hugh Grant in a humble submission only to be rejected probably because the protagonist, Anna Scott( played by Roberts) was famous and the people( in the film) lead unequal lives. That was perhaps one of the ‘it’ moments of the cinematic wonders I had watched. I remembered one of the interviews given by one of the leading Indian actress who I remember telling that Fame is like the flame of a lamp- it lights up the room it is in, but beneath the flame there is darkness.

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register

Featured Review

Interesting take on fame. Never heard this way before. I liked it, but it was dark. As the night falls and we search for one last breath to be seen by others it gets absorbed in the wind of today and surrounds the grey mist-like-fog coming towards you.There's no mistake. You are seen, and they call that fame too. Nice! :)

Posted 9 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


Great combination of words that blend right in as I read and absorb in thought to what has been wrote.
Excellent write.

Posted 8 Years Ago

Great captured fame in its essence....

Posted 8 Years Ago

You have a very good hold on your vocabulary. The ability to splash a writing with more than 300 words, and a piece like this with I think less than 200 words. A very controlled writer, you know where to let your pen's ink flow and where to put a full stop!
Love this one, and the one about judging people! both have different styles.
Commendable work! Looking forward to read more of you!
Hitting the share button too :)

Posted 8 Years Ago


8 Years Ago

You can check out my new poem 'Retrouvailles. It's something new that I have tried.

8 Years Ago

I just read it... I generally start from history and work my way to present n latest!!
Its ama.. read more

8 Years Ago

Thank you... actually that wasn't the voice of the elevator. i wrote it as the boy making a pass at .. read more
The two parrallels work nicely. The same individual from the perspectives of the fans or media, switching over to the famous ones perspective. They just know he is here, he knows how he got there.
cool write.

Posted 8 Years Ago


8 Years Ago

Thank you! Glad you liked it :)
You have portrayed your vision well here ...I love it! Excellent analogy!

Posted 9 Years Ago

I loved this, very clever and creative. I almost feel sorry for these people and often wonder how they aren't blinded by all those flashes from the cameras. But I remember money buys them pretty much anything. hmm.

Nicely done!

Posted 9 Years Ago

This is the poem of some celebrities lives because they have to really screen people to see if they like them for fame, fortune or a true friend.
A lot of them are on the defensive side because of jealousy and hatred.
This is my perception of your poem and stars lives.

Posted 9 Years Ago

You have described vividly the ups and downs of fame so well, I don't envy those that choose to let themselves be at its mercy. Love your command of vocabulary too.

Posted 9 Years Ago

Nice write. Speaks volumes.

Posted 9 Years Ago

First Page first
Previous Page prev
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


27 Reviews
Shelved in 1 Library
Added on February 16, 2012
Last Updated on October 5, 2012



Raleigh, NC

Hello! I am Pratik Mukherjee from Calcutta, India - the city of Mother Teresa and the famous poet Tagore. My pen name is Aaran, a variant of the word 'Aran' and derived from the Aran Islands, a gro.. more..


Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..

Deja vu Deja vu

A Poem by Muse

Sugar and Sun Sugar and Sun

A Poem by Muse

The Last Waltz The Last Waltz

A Poem by Muse

Old Old

A Poem by Muse

Succubus Succubus

A Poem by Muse