The wind was gravely chilling. I felt like moving no more.
Wrecked at my knees, short of air in my lungs, I was drawing myself into state
of Hypothermia. I remember the stress I exerted to bow down and sit, rest for a
while under an icy shed. The storm had wiped out everything from my vision. Sands
were overrated. Just like tiny little rocks. It was only here where I built our
castle. Sands were smooth then, and lighter. In the blurred vision, only one figure was
precise; a lonely girl in orange. Her bare feet had trailed a name. Shipra!
Her first glimpse asserted I could meet someone; someone who
would be like me. I had always guessed chances of that happening were
diminished. And so were they. The storm was needed to uncover the true face.
And I was struck in middle of that storm. How long the icy shed will sustain
standing, I will calculate with number of days left in my life, or may be
hours. My skin which was ripped out weren't bleeding. A part of storm had
entered inside me. Everything was freezing; outside me, and inside me.
