On the evening of Banaras ghat pooja, a girl was dolled up as a bride but the only difference was that she was running away, not from a relationship but from something that could catch her forever in a lifetime as a house-wife or a child producing machine.

Tears? Dried up long ago. Her eyes filled with determination and longing for freedom. She chose herself. Her dignity. Her dream. Her true-self. Not a forced relation by her cruel relatives.