By Sharmila Bhattacharjee
She was beautiful, tall and slender
Black fringes hung gently on her temples
A beautiful smile lit up her dimpled face
There was a spark in her eyes
She was not the one to surrender.
She might have seemed gentle, timid or shy
You might have thought her weak or scared
Or imagined her lips quiver in fright
But she is different, she is strong
Challenge her again and you’ll cry.
But you pushed her down – into the dungeon of darkness
She was the one you wronged
She is scarred, she is bruised
Her body worn out but her spirit unnerved
But she stands tall with a determined face.
Her heart burns with an indomitable fire
Love…no place… only anger and hate
No shackles will keep her restrained
She is the phoenix who rises from the ashes
Admit it, she’s the one you’re beginning to admire.
A scar runs down the side of her dimpled face
Crimson-red blood stains your unclean hands
You are the guilty one – you restricted her
The one you’re slowly beginning to fear
She is a woman – imperfectly perfect
She has and will always rise above all this.
By Sharmila Bhattacharjee
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