The room was locked.
Lights off. Curtains drawn. Windows shut.
Her eyes — swollen, red, heavy — told stories no one asked about.
She cried. Loudly. Then silently.
She shouted toward the ceiling, the sky, the unknown.
“Why so much pain? What have I done?
Is it a crime to be a girl in this world?
Why is it so hard to have a voice… to be free… to just be me?”
So many questions.
And yet, no one to answer them.
Later, she washed her face, tied her hair, and got ready.
The library — her silent temple — was calling again.
As she opened the main gate, she stopped.
A man in orange robes stood there — like he'd been waiting.
A wandering monk.
Without a thought, she reached for a ₹10 note and offered it.
But instead of leaving, he looked straight into her soul and said,
“All your wishes will come true. You will succeed.”
She stood still — surprised, unsure.
But something inside her softened.
“Was that… my answer?” she thought.
She didn’t know.
But her steps felt lighter as she walked away.
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