Away from myself...

I stood next to her while her eyes were filled with tears. Batting her eyelids to somehow get rid of those tears, she looked into those eyes that were red with rage. Eyes that mercilessly accused her of imperfection. I saw her as she swallowed to clear her throat in an attempt to justify herself and bring to light her efforts; but all in vain, for she couldn't even gather enough strength to voice her grief and anger.
     While they smiled as they saw her crying beneath those persistent apologies; she slipped out of the crowd and hid behind those doors , and tears rolled down her cheeks.
As I proceeded towards her with intentions of consoling her, I saw him standing opposite her and wiping off those tear drops.
I dont know why, but my feet couldn't move any further and so I chose not to...
"I never trusted them, and always feared if they also included him"

The proud possession!

She was standing in the shade, with her back leaning against the wall. I saw her new scarf; bright red with the traditional bandhini patterns, a perfect match for her blue denim. She could carry any accessory with such grace... I was flattered. She seemed too conscious of it too; making sure that it was tied properly, ensuring that it held no crease and flaunting it at every possible opportunity.

I suddenly realized that she had noticed me admiring her scarf, even from a distance. She looked at me with a smile and I could see that twinkle in her eye. I was convinced that deep inside, she was filled with child-like innocence. There she stood wearing that scarf , confident that people would notice and admire her proud possession.

For too young she was to realize that "Though the scarf be red, green or blue; there are many people out there, who have it too....."