There she stood, as always, complete with a pretty outfit and her curly hair as golden as the sun. Sometime she was looking out of the window, her head raised slightly skywards. On other occasions, she stood sideways on the sill, looking inwards..perhaps introspecting? Whatever be her mood, the contentment on her face was unmistakable. Every time I passed her by I wondered, what made her day, or was it life in general that continued to woo her?

Maybe it had something to do with her involvement with the differently-abled kids who visited her class each day. She gave them immense pleasure and joy time after time.

On rare occasions she stood with her hands stretched out towards the flowers on the other side of the window. On those days, her tranquil face belied her inner turmoil. When there were no flowers, the toy cars gave her company on the sill. She seemed content as usual, but I could tell that she yearned greatly for those flowers. Sadly, they could never be hers.

This enigma of a doll that I see standing every single day beyond the glass of the classroom window fascinates me to no end. I pass her by and blow her a kiss, praying that one day she finds a prince or a friend who’ll give her plenty of flowers and more.

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