She isn't born with wings, yet she dreams to fly. She doesn't know her heart exists, still loves. Not aware of something called the mind, yet she wonders. Wonders what's life all about and how it will treat her. When she is in her single-digits, she has already fallen in love with the world. Her world. Her perfect family, her perfect surrounding, her perfect friends. Just perfect. It's later in her teens that she realizes that there's no such thing as perfection. That it is a myth. The perfection she had fallen for destroyed her wings, her heart. But since heartbreak has become universal, it's often misunderstood. It's seen by it's width and not the depth. The girl whose wings were cut-off asks everyone today. Why is not acceptable to let the child in you continue to live? Why is it demanded that, with time, it's only the mind that should overpower everything? When did the heart become the devil and wings, horns? After all these years of broken beliefs, she still asks herself. Asks if she will ever allow herself to fly again, to love again and for just sometime not think? Because she knows it's just her heart that has died and not the mind. And her questions don't remain unanswered. Because life throws her at a man's feet where a woman is suppose to find her 'heaven'. She thought to herself, "If this is how heaven is, I rather burn in hell". Having to treat an uncivilized man like god,she started wondering if god really existed. Years of slavery under her 'god' and her kids, she questioned the purpose for her existence, to which she never got any answer. A million woman out there don't get their answers although their questions are the simplest of the lot. They don't live, they survive. They don't breathe but simply inhale and exhale. 