...the doorstep again...she's been there...and she is here again...but alone. The picture on the other side is foggy...She looks back longingly..unwilling to let go of it......but no one is letting her live it. Again she feels the seering pain shoot through her. She closes her eyes tightly till tears escape. 'It will pass..it will pass ' she chants. She is breathless but slowly she feels the pain subside. 'Should I see a doctor? But what will I tell him?' She checks again, but cannot locate the source of pain. How tired she is...rest seems at bay. She is massaging her head slowly...damn! of course she will never find the source of pain......it is not physical. She sits by the side of window and recalls...never a popular child...known only for her chubbiness she cringed at the thought of a big gathering where she would be the butt of their jokes. The best escape was to bury herself in books..atleast she would find solace in their silence. In no time she was popul