My mask is slowly crumbling. It is getting harder and harder each दिन to pretend everything is ok. I know I have to wear a mask made of stone, but every stone cracks once in a while and mine is just beginning. And when my mask finally comes off, the truth will finally be here. But until that day, Until the दिन my mask falls off my face I will stay standing In the hallway of pain, right in between the doors of प्यार and Hate, waiting to see which door will open first. Not screaming. Not breathing. Just waiting. Waiting for the दिन that someone saves me. Saves me from another दिन of beating. Waiting for my mask to fall of my face. Waiting....