She was an important part of me since my childhood without being a part of my life. She was a precious reason why I remembered every silly incident of my memory as a kid. The gift for her was still lying safe in my cupboard and the apology for her was still living inside the kernel of my heart. I know I won't find her. If I would find her then I too know that I would be a complete stranger to her. There was no point in Fortune will want us to bombard again. Who would take an interest to fulfil my wish to complete a silly story? Of course, no one. I know I could never find my Rag Doll...

Odd times and mismatched personalities are no less than a nightmare. These are worse for those who take it as a dream...a beautiful...never-ending dream... He was that dreamer. Living it for a lifetime inside himself. She was the image of the reality formed in his mirror...harsh and dark. What if they would alter their personalities? The nightmare would be altered or....or the dream?