The Girl In Red Dress

She was sitting on the

Window seat, lost in 

Deep thoughts. Dry lines

Of tears, time and again,

Wet, yet, no emotions

In her eyes or on face.


Clutching the hem of her

Red dress, She let the tears

Flow down the cheeks, 

Slightly touching her lips

And dropping down from

Chin. She was done.


She does not feel anything.

Neither the pain, nor the

Hunger, there’s no 

Rumbling or growling.

Only emptiness; yearning

To be filled, yet, not adjuring.


It’s been long,

Since she detested human

Touch. The piercing of

keen and serrated objects

on her body made her

Feel more alive than

The embracing.


She had been flying in

The face of contradicting

Mind sets; setting limits

For her bearing, none

On their filth. The isolation

befriended her.


“Is it my imagination?

Or it happened for real?”


There was blood,

Blood on her hands,

Of own potential drives and

Ambitions. The massacre

Shattered her, too. What

Was left, after all?


She searched and

Searched; nothing impetus

The hollow soul. Void,

Misery, pointless breathing;

Devoured the last bits 

Of hankering.


But, in the end,

It was HER CHOICE to make.

Either to the path of flight

Or the downfall to hell,

She was the pen’woman’

Of her fate.


The girl in the red dress,

Wiped her tears and

Cleared her vision, making

Her way out.

Ultimately, choosing to

Rise above all.



This poem holds a special meaning for me. I feel, when someone else reads it, the poem would leave many questions on their mind, “Who is that girl?”, “”What happened with her?”, “What is she going through and why?”, “She chose to rise above what?”. I would love to know about your take on the poem.

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27 thoughts on “The Girl In Red Dress

  1. Good to have you back!

    Anyway, this poem makes me think of those of us who might have emotional scars that nobody else sees. We might appear totally normal on the outside but unless someone really knows us they don’t know what internal battles we might be fighting and so we should always strive to be kind to one another.


  2. Oh no! I wouldn’t do that ever. How can someone leave the treasure chest just like that? I had time crisis last month and I’ve started posted regularly, though only twice a week.

    Strange, even I thought, most of the fellow bloggers might have felt that I’m gone forever! xD I’m glad to hear from you, again. *hugs*

    Liked by 2 people

  3. This is amazing, Anjali. I love how you still kept the suspense and left it to us to draw conclusions.
    Whatever her story, choosing to swallow pain and come out strong is all that matters and she’s ballistic to have done that.
    If I haven’t said it already, much love. This is cool! x)


  4. Thank you, Viraj!
    I like your perceptive. It is indeed, necessary to rise above the injustice so that you can set an example so strong which inspires millions of others to do the same. A present day example which can be quoted here, an acid attack survivor recently walked the New York Fashion Week ramp, isn’t this awesome? She has raised the hopes for other survivors as well that they can lead a normal life like anyone else.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Being an optimist myself, I connected with her “choosing” to rise. This was much more important to me than who she is, or what her current situation might be. I have learned three things in my 61 years… (1)You will be tested, but you don’t have to be beaten. (2) No matter what situation you can currently in, it will eventually change, (3) Love is all there is! [Found you at the Community Pool] Touching poem. I liked your comment at the end of it.


  6. Hey Anjali,
    I would like to tell you that I have nominated you for the Sunshine Blogger Award. So,please visit my blog and see the questions. I would love for you to answer. Thanks :)


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