Who is this, R. Tagore

I came out alone on my way to my tryst. 
But who is this that follows me in the silent dark? 

I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not. 

He makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger; 
he adds his loud voice to every word that I utter. 

He is my own little self, my lord, he knows no shame; 
but I am ashamed to come to thy door in his company.