The Belle


Beauty, they say

Resides in the gleam of one’s skin.

It oozes out from cerise lips

And also from delightful dimples.

It flashes through the eyelashes

And the blush of one’s cheek.


But each time

You lift your face-


By the curve of your lips-

You prove them wrong.


Those scars that line

Every inch of your face

Aren’t blemishes

But they are like sparkles

Adorning your face

The way dazzling stars do

In the mesmerizing darkness

Or the way, colors combine

To form the stunning rainbow.


Each time you smile

You silently say

To the whole damn world

That beauty

Lies in the eyes of the beholder.  

I was inspired to write this poem after reading this phenomenal story about acid attack victim Rupa. I don’t know how good this poem is but I drove home the lesson that ‘ No sorrow is too hard to overcome’.

Respect to all those women who bares their scars like how a proud lioness does.