The story starts: She was an innocent prisoner, a victim of circumstances, a victim of this cruel, canny world and was serving her sentence in a prison awaiting execution. He was in the same prison, about to be freed and he met her one day. He saw her innocence, he deeply thought of what she termed as a crime. 'No', he said, 'you ought to be free'. He decided to set her free. He fought for her and the doors of the prison were opened for her but she refused to be freed... She denied to come out. But the man was determined to set her free, he did not give up, he had to take her out, he broke all the walls of the prison, he was fatally wounded by the time the last wall was broken. She was sitting at the same place unmoved and she screamed at him, "Whyyyyyyyy? Why stranger.......... why you? Why..... when because of whom I am here, he never cared to bring down the walls.... why you?" For the last time his dying eyes met hers and he said .................. T...
Nothing is what most often we have to say. Why is it difficult to speak out?
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