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...

Each pair of eyes held the same exhaustion, the same helplessness—as if even during lunch break, life trailed behind them like a burden.

I was sitting under the gulmohar tree. The tiffin was open, but hunger was wandering somewhere far away. The sight of roti made me nauseous. The wind was running its fingers through my hair—and I felt like flying away with it. Anywhere. Just far from here.

"You're not looking at him, but you're definitely thinking about him."

Nam ...

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