A hundred worlds, a thousand places,
Inhibitions gone, reticence shed.
Who is she, they wonder, they shrug, they ask,
For there she sits, the girl in red.
Red is special, it has something,
Red she welcomes, embraces.
As though hidden secrets can finally be revealed,
The truth beyond the lies, the faces behind the faces.
Yearnings recalled, dreams unlocked,
Longings, desires, rise from the core.
Crimson, brave, clear as day,
No dread, no fear, no riddles, no more.
People pointing, disbelieving,
They whisper, they talk, they stare,
Then shake their heads, eyebrows raised,
As if to say, how could she, how dare!
Is it pride, they ask themselves,
Is it lust, or is it fame?
What has she done? For want of what?
Oh scarlet shame, the scarlet shame!
She sits alone, amidst the stares,
And then as though, an epiphany.
Lifts her eyes, then meets the gaze,
This is me, yes, this is me.
It might be fame, it might be lust,
And yes, it may be pride, indeed.
The questions grow, I answer none,
My scarlet friend, is all I need.
For when she wraps her ruby arms,
Around my body and my soul.
Emboldened is my spirit thus,
I sit alone, yet not alone.
I feel a spark light up my eyes,
I feel as though the world is mine.
I heed no signs, for I am wise,
The doubt you sought, you will not find.
You watch, you point, I do not care,
The things you heard, the things you said.
My fame, my lust, my pride is mine,
For here I am, the girl in red.
~Rrashima Swaarup Verma