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Naina Taneja

Chameleon

i grew up with books.

dragons and mermaids filled my mind

living in a world of my creation


i owned a book. one. singular. book. non-fiction, that is.

obsession would be an understatement.

a creature with an ability

unlike anything i had ever seen before


the chameleon.


jealousy was the anchor wrapped tightly around my ankle,

chaining me to the ground.

it seemed an impossible feat

to accept that i could not be a chameleon,

so naturally, the only thing that made sense

was to chase the reality

of becoming a chameleon

able to change myself to blend into my surroundings


a skill that was purely my own.

i was endlessly proud to be a chameleon.


this morning at school we were given an assignment

identity; what it means to be you

and as i sat at my computer

nothing came to mind

i was a chameleon, that meant change

i was many things

and as my mind drew a blank

it hit me for the first time ever --- being a chameleon

may not be a good thing


a chameleon is prey.

hiding from bigger, scarier, predators.

is that what i had been doing? hiding?


so yes i am a chameleon

i have been one for as long as i remember

But i think it's time to stop,

being a chameleon.

To see how life would be through the lens of

something different

anything really


Maybe a tiger, or frog, or even a peacock.

Just -- not a chameleon.


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