It was December and like other months gone so soon I looked outside my room window and I saw the old leaves falling down I sat counting my death but I was lucky that I had my family my handsome husband and my 6 year old boy both of them were so precious to me, I closed my eyes and went 17 years back when I was a young teenage girl who will to become a writer when she was sitting on her bench everyone was enjoying and celebrating on the absence of there maths teacher Sheena, but Ahilya Bhatt being different was writing a poem the same air of December, when cold air was breezing here and there. She looked and wrote about the loneliness she has because she was separated from all of them. She called herself "Lady Lazuras" a poem of Salviya Plath she always cherish her work she closed her notebook and packed her back waiting for school to get over because it was the last lecture she could only her the last moments of the clock...