She can hear her own words resounding in her mind. ‘There is much more in life and I have much more to see… much more to learn. The day school ends, we shall all cross a threshold. And that day a door shall forever be closed upon us.’ She cannot believe how clairvoyant she had been. Words she had once spoken in an attempt to sound grown-up and mature had indeed come true.
She is jerked back to the present as the car drives over yet another speed breaker on the state highway. She is enveloped in the night’s darkness and in the absence of any artificial light to guide her, she cannot see anyone. No one can see her. She realises that her i-pod which she had been listening to, is still playing on shuffle. She switches it off – another light being put out that evening. She hunts for the earphones, she had plugged into her ear at the beginning of the journey. She had lost them in her bouts of dozes and preoccupation. In her search, she loses grip on her i-pod. 
The car lurches forward again – this time over an unexpected pot hole in the road. She jots forward and falls on the luggage. She hadn’t realised how cramped she had been, sitting for six hours in the back of the car, stuffed with luggages – suitcases and loose bags. She had been stuffed in because she was small and she would fit – as if she were yet another burden, yet another luggage. She hears others in the front telling the driver to take it slow. She doesn’t make a sound – just assembles herself back in the small seat. She gathers her legs on the seat – there isn’t enough space on the floor to keep them there. She tries sitting cross-legged but she can’t. Finally she pulls her legs to her chest, puts her head in the cradle of her thighs. 
She goes back to her search of i-pod and ear plugs. She realises, it isn’t there on the seat. It has probably fallen down. She tries to search for it with her hands but she can’t find it. The rhythm of the silent drive is broken yet again. This time she abandons her search, knowing that i-pod has moved somewhere in the realm of inaccessibility at the moment. She resumes her seat. Suddenly all her bouts of preoccupation and all her epiphanies attack her together.  She feels something choking her. She hasn’t eaten anything since lunch. She feels an incoherent sob in her windpipe. She tries to muffle it. She knows she is going to fail in her attempts yet again. She gives up. She does what she has been doing for a while now. She buries her head in her arms and buries herself in herself. She cries – silent but loud sobs. She cries so that no one can hear her but her world echoes with them and her spirit suffers yet another fissure just by the intensity of the quake.


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