…She drove down to the loneliest road she could think of. Sitting at a corner of a bridge she wished that there was a faint overpass in her life too, which allowed people to reach up to her. May be she had some and she herself burnt those with her own hands. In the absence of human presence she allowed herself to break her own promise and lit a cigarette. She looked at the smoke coming out of her mouth after the first puff, there she made another wish. She wished to be the smoke, which existed yet was invisible. She wished to merge in the sound of dry leaves with the blow of wind, she wished to lose herself in the sound of screaming peacocks; her heart was screaming too, for someone who would understand her silence and embrace her the way nature embraces the earth. She looked right through the jungle…through the trees to find the answers but there was none. When there is no one to listen, it is better to speak to the nature…but don’t expect the answers. A drop of tear rolled down her cheek without her permission. In an effort to control that another one became a rebel and then the other and the other. She sat down helpless and scared… Scared of losing control on herself. She was scared that she might repeat what she had seen all her life and what she despised all her life. May be it was this fear that kept her alone, maybe it is this fear which will make her live alone. She always was at the receiving end…of all the hate, the anger, the frustration, the confusion, the regret, the helplessness … And knew that she won’t ever be at the other end…the giving end. The moment she would realise that she has travelled at that far end where she never wanted to be, that probably would be the end of her.