An encounter : An 8th standard girl who is expected to be all smiles and happy during her evening play hours caught my attention as she wasn’t doing the expected. She sat in a corner, fiddling with something and stared. Something about her disturbed me and I managed to befriend her. One day as I stood up to leave, she told me that her mother was strict and had no time to listen to her. And I smiled and assured her that I would listen whenever she needed. As I walked away, I said a prayer that let her not have anything that I fret to tell me. The very next day, as usual, after my work, I caught up with her. It was always more of a monologue. I kept talking about various things and she continued staring with occasional glances. That day when I stood up to say bye, she held my hand and said “I don’t like my father.” My heart sank because I dreaded something of this sort coming up. I held her close and the story she told me, I’d like to keep to myself. She is taken care of today. Oh,...