Neha clutched her bag which lay on her lap ,stopped her breath as her eyes were stuck at the open door towards the right end of the classroom. Through the row of windows leading to the door, one could see the quadrangle garden separating the next set of classrooms and set of happy student whose lecturers let them go early. Scrolling her eyes across the dead classroom, half asleep and rest with transfixed eyes at the clock above the projector nothing could be more divine then the sound of the bell. A sunny Saturday morning with cool breeze blowing, the first hours last ten seconds seemed the hardest . A rectangle classroom, with the projector on one breadth and a plane wall on other. With rows of window at a stretch on each length wall and from the forward view of projector, the door was present at the right corner. The window towards the left were covered with curtains...