Background story of the girl: http://commixed.weebly.com/blog/anya
It is a holiday from school, so Anya is at home, lying with her back to the bed, lost in thought. She has a blanket over her legs, and a torn cloth spread over her stomach. On it is kept a peach seed. The fire is burning, and in an aluminium utensil, covered by a steel thali, something is cooking. The other utensils have already been washed, and are leaning against the wall next to the burning wood. Anya sits up on the bed, and carefully holding the cloth and the seed stands up on her bare feet. Her slippers seem to lie neglected next to the door. Anya finds them to be a hindrance for all the running and jumping about that she needs to do in the day. She walks to her trunk of clothes and opens it. She unwraps the cloth that covers the material inside the trunk, to reveal a slightly messy interior. She places the peach seed and the cloth meticulously in one corner of the trunk. She then walks back to the bed to fold the blanket that she had on, and she keeps it on one side of the bed. Since she was told by her mother to take off the rice from the fire in a while, she picks up a rag from the ground, and holding the sides of the searing hot aluminium with the cloth protecting her hands from burning, she places it on the floor. The glow of the fire has brightened, and afternoon light seeps in from the window. Going to the low table made with bricks and a piece of cardboard, Anya sits on the floor in front of it. She takes out a notebook and a pencil from her school bag, and opens the notebook to do her Hindi homework. She realises that there isn’t enough light in that portion of the room for her to read clearly, so she gets a candle and a matchbox from across the room, and lights it. From a tilted candle over the table, two drops fall on its surface. She sticks the candle on it and starts working. The fire, not being fed wood, becomes milder. Meanwhile, sitting on the floor, Anya plays with her pencil and taps on the table with her fingers with the beats of a local song. She also hums a tune with it. After about an hour of work and play, all done together, she hears her friends approaching her house. She is done with the homework at the perfect time, so she blows out the candle and rushes out of the room. A light bulb hangs in the room from the ceiling, without current in its wire, and her slippers still lie awaiting a warm foot placed in them for luxury.
Sounds of children chattering like tiny birds, and running can be heard moving far into the distance, as the light from the candle transforms into smoke, and the liquid wax trickling down the side of the candle freezes in time. The door creaks as it still moves with the wind that swished past it when Anya rushed out of her house to join her friends. The pages of her notebook flutter in the wind that enters the room from the door and the window. In the excitement with which she ran out of the house, the dupatta over her shoulders fell on the entrance, without her realising it. Her bag that was leaning against the table slowly drops to the floor. The flames from the wood have become smaller, and the sound of emptiness can be heard, when suddenly there are a few footsteps, and the dupatta lying on the floor is pulled out in just a blink. This small movement brings back a sense of joy in the house.