Again , numbness descends mercifully.
I'm outside myself, hovering above , close to the seep-stained ceiling, watching mom gasp.
Right now, i'm much too miserable to wonder what she sees when she looks at me: her only daughter , the bookish nerd ,the constant daydreamer , the chubby bespectacled mess with large manly feet with splayed toes.The boy/girl who metamorphosed overnight into an almost beautiful (marriage material -mom would have said) girl.
She might look at me and find a girl , who is too miserable to look at her mother in the face , which otherwise might see in her mother's eyes the years of blight and disappointment.
But I do hear what she says: "Oh , Azra , No !"
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